Of the three three Leadville Trail 100 mountain bike races that I’ve completed, this year was the most difficult by far. My goal for this race was to complete it in under 9 hours. This would have put me in about the top 120 of the 1300 competitors. Finishing in sub-9 would mean shaving almost 50 minutes off of my time from last year, and it was a real reach. But I knew I would never know if it were possible unless I try. It wasn’t possible this year, and trying for sub-9 took a real toll. Overall, I still feel extremely satisfied to have completed the race, and to complete it in under 10 hours.
After spending several nights in Vail, Colorado, I arrived in Leadville on Thursday night to continue my altitude acclimatization at 10,200 feet in the highest incorporated town in the United States. Through the hospitality of my friends (and Leadville natives) the McHargues, the people at the B&B I stayed at, and other friends in town for the race, it was a fabulous experience outside of just the 100 mile mountain bike race. The only thing that would have made it better was if the rest of my family could have come with me to enjoy it as well.
Friday morning was the medical check-in and pre-race meeting. It was hard to believe that after all of this preparation and endless talk about this race, that it was finally one day away. I volunteered to help perform the medical check-ins of the 1300 competitors. From 7am to 10am people lined up to sit down at a table for one of us to ask them about medication they are taking or allergies they have. I’m not a doctor, but because most people have no allergies or medication, I can help speed the people through who have no issues. The great thing about this job was that it gave me a few minutes to talk to each racer. Some were in and out in a minute, but some stayed and chatted for a few. Amongst others, I got the chance to chat with champion pro racer Tinker Juarez, Brian Wiens (brother of 6-time champion Dave and also top-100 LT100 rider), and well-regarded cycling and tri coach and author Gayle Bernhardt.
We had been watching the weather reports for the race change on a daily basis, but it looked like race day was going to be mostly clear, with 30% chance of thunderstorms, which is a typical Leadville day.
On race day when I woke up to my alarm at 4:25am, I was less-than-thrilled at the patter-patter sound of rain outside. The temperature was 39 degrees and there was light rain. I ate breakfast and left the house at 4:55am to place my bike in a prime position as close to the starting line as I could. Thankfully the rain had stopped. Many other racers also woke early to get pole position, so I found that even with the early wakeup, my bike was positioned probably in about 300th place. Not a bad start, but there were enough people in front of me to potentially slow me down on the first big climb, St. Kevins. Being able to rip up this climb was an important ingredient to a sub-9 race.
Generally in an endurance race, you don’t want start too hard and tap all of your energy too early. This can be disastrous as your tank runs empty before you have to tackle one of the most difficult climbs of the race at the 80 mile mark, followed shortly by another 30 minute climb. However, taking risks for reward is important in this race, and so starting out near the front and very fast ensured that I wouldn’t hit congestion on the large ascents and descents of the first 20 miles of the course. My strategy for this race was to go very fast, at a sub-9 hour pace. I knew that finishing in less than 9 hours was not very realistic. Race conditions had to be perfect, everything had to go right, my fitness had to be better than I thought it was. I also knew that the only way to try to make under 9 hours was to begin the race at a blazing fast pace, tearing up the first two large climbs well about my lactic threshold. Lactic threshold, or LT is the level you reach where metabolic waste and acid collects in your muscles at a faster rate than your body can expel them. This threshold is your body’s ‘redline’, and the clock ticks when you’re in it before your muscles fatigue and cramp. My strategy included a lot of luck. Luck that my muscles could endure long periods in LT, and luck that with a solid nutrition plan I could keep fueling my body to continue moving.
By now the sun had come up and looked down the hill to the mountains in the distance where we were shortly to be headed. The mountains looked beautiful as the low-lying clouds were lifting off them, with the peaks showing some fresh snow. However, not far in front of us, a couple of miles in my estimate, was a large blob of gray. The temperature now was 41 degrees, and in that blob of grey, temperatures were surely wet 30’s. I turned to Mike McHargue (who was also trying for sub-9 and who I was going to pace with for the race) and asked, “rain jacket?” “Hello no”. There was no question we would be wet and cold. The strategy though was to hope the rain would be short and that the energy expended during the climb would warm us. We didn’t want to be overheating on the climbs and waste precious seconds having to stop and stow a rain jacket. If we were going to make sub-9, it would be by mere minutes. Mike and I strategized on how to shave seconds by not stopping at certain aid stations and making sure our crew was so efficient that we wouldn’t have to stop for more than 30 seconds to replenish our fuel.
Race Start
The race began at 6:30am with a shotgun blast. Because of the standing room only density of the riders with their bikes, it took about 30 seconds to pass the starting line. We proceeded at around 20 mph for a few miles down the road as a large throng of riders elbow to elbow. Extreme focus had to be given on the riders all around, as any mistakes here could cause a massive pileup. Thankfully there were none, although I did see a single downed rider about 4 miles in whose accident seemed quite serious. The rain began somewhere along this section. It was mostly a very light rain and would vary in intensity for the next couple of hours.
St Kevins
The St. Kevins climb is about 1000 feet of climbing very early on in the race. It is the second steepest grade climb in the race and has many loose rocks and ruts. It would be considered a difficult climb except that it comes so early in the race that my fresh adrenaline soaked legs weather the climb quite well. The climb up St. Kevins began at a pace slightly less than desired. The climb was made more difficult due to the extreme focus on finding a good line up the technical trail with so many riders. I had to keep forward momentum, but not bump into elbow room crowd around me, all the while being careful to avoid rocks and ruts. A quick lack of focus means being forced into a sandy rocky rut and wasting a lot of energy trying to continue upwards and fine room between the riders to get out. After about 15 minutes of climbing, I was gasping for air and was content that although the pace of the riders in front of me was slower than I had planned, it was probably keeping me from burning out too early. Toward the top of this climb I began to feel a twitch in my right quadriceps. This is an early warning to muscle cramping, which if unaddressed could end my race. I was concerned to be feeling this during the first hour of the race. I was pretty sure, however, that I could fix the problem. Drink more water and gobble down some electrolyte (salt) pills. Thankfully my nutrition strategy prevented muscle cramps for the remainder of the race. The rain continued on and off for the next several hours.
Powerline Descent
Powerline is the steepest and most technical descent of the course. And as if a cruel joke, it is also the steepest and most technical climb of the race, which is faced at 80 miles. The 1600’ vertical descent takes about 10 minutes. It is very fast and fun, but can be race ending if you crash. There are ruts large enough to swallow your entire bicycle. The trail turns into peach pit of ruts. Miss the good line and you will end up in one of them. When I pre-rode the course, Powerline was very sandy. It was very difficult to maintain a fast pace and also braking control. Last year during a pre-ride I feathered my brakes down a section and went into a tailspin, falling backwards into a rut, leaving a large and painful bruise. It was after my pre-ride that I decided to stick with a wider grippier tire instead of a lower profile faster tire. It’s better to sacrifice a little time than risk a crash. However, due to the light rain, the surface was very tacky and my tires were gripping good. I was able to descend quickly and with confidence, although I had to slow down a bit to maintain control because the bumps were jarring me a bit too much. Once I reached the bottom of the descent I noticed my suspension fork dial was set at the ‘lock-out’ position. Whoops. At the bottom of powerline is a creek crossing. Riders line up at the bottom to walk over a wet plank. Most feel it’s worth sacrificing 15 seconds or so than soaking themselves through the 20 foot creek crossing, to the dismay of the crowd at the bottom egging people on to fly through the creek. For whatever reason every year I fly right through the creek, this year no exception. I was worried that the rains would make the water deeper, but I felt I was already so wet that I had little to lose, and perhaps the cheering crowd would offer a brief moment of pleasure. It did. The crowd loved it, and I loved hearing them cheer.
Powerline to Twin Lakes
The strategy of this section is to find a pace group. Riding in a group and letting the riders ahead of you break the wind can conserve 30% or more of your energy. This is a section where it is very important to conserve energy for the 8 mile, 3600’ ascent to come. With a little luck, you get in a large pace group and suck someone’s draft for 15 miles. I had no such luck. There were no pace groups to be found. Eventually I was able to latch onto a few riders, but they were going too slow for me to be on my sub-9 pace. As I pulled forward, they all latched onto my wheel to suck my draft, so I ended up expending too much energy while the clowns behind me were able to relax. Eventually I had to just peel off to the side, forcing another rider to the front, and slow down may pace so I could get some sort of rest. I’m forced to scrap some speed during the only section for a long while where I can get some recovery.
I blew right past the Pipeline Aid station. As I passed through, I was happy to hear ‘Go Gary’ from Kathleen Brooks. I never keep crew at Pipeline, and while she was crewing my friend Eric, I wasn’t sure why she was at Pipeline rather than Twin Lakes. Regardless, it was good to hear her cheer me on. I was so cold at this point that I barely could turn my head to acknowledge her. My lips and legs felt numb from the cold and rain. I didn’t want to eat or drink anything. Other than the rhythmic pedaling, I felt like a statue on the bike. I started to wonder what hypothermia felt like and how close I was to it. I was soaking wet, cold, and numb. I stopped and put on my rain jacket. Probably a couple of minutes wasted, but thankfully it shortly ended my misery. The rain jacket provided enough insulation to warm my wet body and turn my focus from the cold. Unfortunately I probably wasted too much energy trying to keep warm. I passed renowned Lance coach Chris Carmichael on this section. It made me feel good, as he was an 8:45 rider last year. Although I figured Lance’s comeback meant lots less training for him this year. I briefly chatted with him but I think he was suffering too and so not very talkative.
Twin Lakes
I made it to Twin Lakes in about 2:50, which was 5 minutes off of my sub-9 hour pace. Although I was only five minutes off, every time checkpoint I had was very aggressive and it would be difficult to make up this time. Last year pulling into Twin Lakes I was feeling good and hooting and hollering down to my crew as I was coming down. This year I was suffering. I wasn’t throwing in the towel for sub-9, but I was feeling the pain of the increased pace. I knew my batteries were drained and I was at the foot of the big climb. This year I had to do it in 1:40, 9 minutes faster than what I had thought was a blazing pace last year. I was realizing sub-9 was slipping away, but I was happy to see that I mostly maintained it for the first 40 miles of the race, considering the extra energy fighting to keep warm and soggy trail conditions. Although sub-9 was slipping away, I was still not giving up, and we’ll see how I do up to Columbine Mine.
Columbine was tougher than I had expected. Last year I picked a cog and a pace that allowed me to pass a lot of riders. Long steady hill climbs is something that I’m particularly good at. While I wasn’t concerned at this point with gaining or losing ‘positions’, passing riders was the sign I needed to see that told me I was close to my pace. I wasn’t passing enough riders, and some were even passing me. Not only was I not improving my pace from last year, but I felt worse and I felt my pace was slower. My fast start was really catching up with me now. About halfway up, Mike McHargue passed me. I was happy to see him. I had no goal to beat Mike. Actually, if I could just keep pace and work with Mike to the finish, that would be the sign of a successful race. Mike is an accomplished endurance athlete and Leadman (one who competes in all 5 Leadville endurance events). One week after the mountain bike race, Mike will compete in the 100 mile trail run over much of the same terrain. I tried keep up with his pace. I could only hold him for a few minutes. After he was about 10 bicycle lengths ahead, his pace seemed to slow and I tried to keep him in sight. I was able to do this for about the next 15 minutes. I was distracted by something, and then he was gone.
What is very exciting about the Columbine climb is the top of the mountain marks the 50 mile turnaround. Therefore, the race leaders are soon going to be coming down the mountain. The higher up the mountain I am when I see the race leaders, the better. At this point I’m wondering whom I will see first. I was pretty certain it would be Lance. Typically you’ll know when he’s coming by the shouting of cheering ahead as the leader approaches. The leader this year was Lance Armstrong. Either he was coming down so surprisingly fast, people were just exhausted, or nobody cared, but I heard no cheering to warn me that he was coming. I was just coming around a switchback as Lance came flying towards me. He grabbed a fistful of brake and gave an audible grunt as he briefly came to almost a complete stop, either to avoid flying off the trail or plowing into exhausted riders taking the turn too wide. As I continued the climb I tried to recognize other riders coming down. I noticed Dave Wiens somewhat far behind in second place, calling out encouragement on his way down, as he is know for doing. “Keep it up.. Good job, keep it up…”
The last third of Columbine is above treeline. The trail turns rocky and the pitch steep. It is beautiful but painful to see winding and unobstructed as far as the eye can see, a line of bikers slowly trudging their way upwards. It reminds me of the videos of Everest expeditions where you can see the summit of the mountain, but you know that short distance is a day or more away.
The sun never really came out. Most of the climb was cloudy with brief moments of sun. Now, I’m starting to feel a little bit of rain. The pitter patter of the rain increases, but I’m not really getting wet. Then my head starts to sting, and I realize that we are riding into a hailstorm. I still have about 20 minutes of climbing left, and I hope that as I climb the hail doesn’t increase in size, turn to snow, or worse, become an electrical storm. I begin to get cold again and stop to put on my rain jacket, which I stowed earlier at the Twin Lakes aid station. Thankfully the hailstorm does not last very long.
(randomly found picture on google of sort of what it looks like atop columbine)
Twin Lakes to Pipeline Inbound
It felt nice to make it to the top of Columbine. I uneventfully flew down the hill, making it back to our crew point in about 40 minutes. This was slower than my plan, but I found myself enjoying the descent and taking it a bit slower in order to get some of the recovery that I missed out on earlier. When I’m going too fast, I tense up too much and it does not offer as much rest. At Twin Lakes, Jill did an awesome job having my camelbak ready to go. I grabbed it, some new S-Caps, shot bloks, and I was off.
This section begins about 15 miles mostly flat terrain, with two short but incredibly steep ascents. Here again is where you want to latch on to some other riders and share turns pulling and resting in the draft. I could have really used the help because there was a strong crosswind. I was struggling to maintain a good pace on this section. I was losing a lot of time, but there was a massive double whammy 1600’ climb coming up, followed by another 30 minute climb, and the demons were telling me that there is no way I’m going to be able to do these climbs. I was slowing down in the hopes that somehow I would find some energy to continue on. However, the more I consumed, the more nauseous I felt. I don’t think I was metabolizing my fuel, and worse, I was worried I’d throw up. Some people passed and I tried holding onto their wheel to conserve energy. However, just focusing on the wheel in front of me and trying to maintain stride was more than I could handle. I was on my own, flapping in the breeze.
Pipeline Aid and Powerline
I wasn’t planning on stopping at Pipeline, but I needed help. I instructed a willing volunteer to dump half my camelbak full of energy drink and dilute it with water. I was desperate for some energy my body could metabolize to energy quickly. At the aid station I drank 3 shots of cola and some m&m’s. I knew I needed to drink a lot of water and I should have also filled the empty bottle in my cage with water, but I forgot. I was still hurting as the 15mph crosswind turned into a headwind. But, as if by magic, as I approached the powerline climb, I started feeling some more energy in my legs. I walked the first part of the climb, which is so steep that I had not planned to ride anyway. Toward the top of the portage, volunteers were offering more coke and candy. I took a couple more shots of coke and handful of fruity mike & ikes. I got on the bike and started climbing. There was a brief downhill section, and on this section I got my first flat tire. I secretly relished this time off the bike. Unfortunately, I was too wasted to do anything in a hurry, so I probably spent 10 minutes fixing my flat. I got back on the bike and was able to remain on my bike for just about all of the remaining climb. It was by no means a blazing pace. It was a “how slow can I climb while still being able to remain upright” type of pace. Even though sub-9 was long out of the question, I knew that simply staying on the bike would give me a shot at a respectable sub-10 performance.
The simple sugars were doing the trick. I felt ok cresting powerline and began the descent down the other side. The rain had stopped a while back and the sun was out. I was dry and it felt amazing to fly downhill and feel the cool breeze. The next climb is a long road climb. I had taken my last gulp of water and I had what I thought it was a 45 minutes up until the Carter Summit aid station and my new goal was to try to do it in 30. As I rounded the turn to the pavement, Kevin Kane was there cheering me on and holding out a bottle of water. I needed the water badly, but I was so stunned to see him, my natural reaction was to nod my head ‘no thanks’ and continue down. By the time I realized I had needed the water I was too far down the hill to turn around. I had to in order to finish in under 10 hours. Perhaps he had sensed that I still could use water, because about 5 minutes into the climb, an SUV pulls up to the side of me and Kevin’s outstretched arm is holding a half full bottle. While pedaling, I gladly take it, chug it down, and hand back the empty. It felt good to feel the crew support during a most unexpected time. I got to Carter Summit in 20 minutes. This was great. I had both climbed strong and overestimated the length of the climb. There was still some more off-road climbing, but I knew that I was in good position and it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. The good folks at Carmichael Training were manning the aid station. I asked for some coke and they have me half of a thermos full of it, which I chugged. I also jammed a handful of badly rain-weathered m&m’s down my throat, as well as two gooey melted bite sized milky way bars. I had never before trained with this nutrition plan, but it was working. Yumm! Somehow my legs received a boost of overdrive. I strongly pedaled the remaining climbs, and blasted down the descents. I knew I was behind where I should be because I passed many riders on the St. Kevins descent. My legs felt good and slingshotted by riders as if they were standing still on the brief uphill sections.
Leadville Junction to the Finish
After St. Kevin comes about four miles of dirt road, pavement, and a demoralizing slog up “The Boulevard”. On the pavement I was trying to keep a strong pace. On a pre-ride, this section took 30 minutes at a medium pace. I had about 45 minutes to get back before 10 hours. I was relatively sure that even after 100 hard miles of racing, I wouldn’t be 15 minutes off of my pre-ride pace, but I didn’t want to take chances, and it would have been nice to beat my 9:48 from the previous year. Ideally I would find some people whom I could draft. However, the riders near me where going too slow. Again I found that slower riders were drafting me, relaxing at my expense. Soon I hit ‘The Boulevard’. It starts off as a steep, rocky climb, but then levels out to a 15 minute, 3 mile gradual ascent. It is difficult only because it comes after 100 miles of riding and because everyone here is working harder than they would like in order to make whatever time goal they have set. My legs are feeling tired, and as I suspected, the slower riders who were relaxing in my draft previously are now passing me. Drafting them on the dirt and a climb would not be useful. I exit the boulevard, turn right onto 6th Ave, and soon see the finish ahead of me. I try to push hard enough to make it under 9:50. I arrive at the finish in 9:49.
I felt mostly good at the finish. After saying a few quick hellos and receiving some congratulations, Lisa told me Brent was right behind. I waited for him to finish just five minutes after me and congratulated him, and headed back to my room in Leadville for a quick shower and change. I then hung out for a while to wait for the rest of the 9 or so people who I knew who were doing the race. Later that night I had dinner at the McHargues and then headed back to my room, where I proceeded to experience some very cold chills. I went to bed wearing a t-shirt and two sweatshirts (one hooded) and was still freezing cold under the double covers. I fell asleep and woke at about 3am sweating. While I never felt sick during the race, I wonder if perhaps my body had been fighting something, and the weakened immune response during the activity of the race caused the bug to take hold. Who knows. The next day was the award ceremony, and then travel back to DC.
It was great during this trip to experience creating good memories together with new and old friends.
After spending several nights in Vail, Colorado, I arrived in Leadville on Thursday night to continue my altitude acclimatization at 10,200 feet in the highest incorporated town in the United States. Through the hospitality of my friends (and Leadville natives) the McHargues, the people at the B&B I stayed at, and other friends in town for the race, it was a fabulous experience outside of just the 100 mile mountain bike race. The only thing that would have made it better was if the rest of my family could have come with me to enjoy it as well.
Friday morning was the medical check-in and pre-race meeting. It was hard to believe that after all of this preparation and endless talk about this race, that it was finally one day away. I volunteered to help perform the medical check-ins of the 1300 competitors. From 7am to 10am people lined up to sit down at a table for one of us to ask them about medication they are taking or allergies they have. I’m not a doctor, but because most people have no allergies or medication, I can help speed the people through who have no issues. The great thing about this job was that it gave me a few minutes to talk to each racer. Some were in and out in a minute, but some stayed and chatted for a few. Amongst others, I got the chance to chat with champion pro racer Tinker Juarez, Brian Wiens (brother of 6-time champion Dave and also top-100 LT100 rider), and well-regarded cycling and tri coach and author Gayle Bernhardt.
We had been watching the weather reports for the race change on a daily basis, but it looked like race day was going to be mostly clear, with 30% chance of thunderstorms, which is a typical Leadville day.
On race day when I woke up to my alarm at 4:25am, I was less-than-thrilled at the patter-patter sound of rain outside. The temperature was 39 degrees and there was light rain. I ate breakfast and left the house at 4:55am to place my bike in a prime position as close to the starting line as I could. Thankfully the rain had stopped. Many other racers also woke early to get pole position, so I found that even with the early wakeup, my bike was positioned probably in about 300th place. Not a bad start, but there were enough people in front of me to potentially slow me down on the first big climb, St. Kevins. Being able to rip up this climb was an important ingredient to a sub-9 race.
Generally in an endurance race, you don’t want start too hard and tap all of your energy too early. This can be disastrous as your tank runs empty before you have to tackle one of the most difficult climbs of the race at the 80 mile mark, followed shortly by another 30 minute climb. However, taking risks for reward is important in this race, and so starting out near the front and very fast ensured that I wouldn’t hit congestion on the large ascents and descents of the first 20 miles of the course. My strategy for this race was to go very fast, at a sub-9 hour pace. I knew that finishing in less than 9 hours was not very realistic. Race conditions had to be perfect, everything had to go right, my fitness had to be better than I thought it was. I also knew that the only way to try to make under 9 hours was to begin the race at a blazing fast pace, tearing up the first two large climbs well about my lactic threshold. Lactic threshold, or LT is the level you reach where metabolic waste and acid collects in your muscles at a faster rate than your body can expel them. This threshold is your body’s ‘redline’, and the clock ticks when you’re in it before your muscles fatigue and cramp. My strategy included a lot of luck. Luck that my muscles could endure long periods in LT, and luck that with a solid nutrition plan I could keep fueling my body to continue moving.
By now the sun had come up and looked down the hill to the mountains in the distance where we were shortly to be headed. The mountains looked beautiful as the low-lying clouds were lifting off them, with the peaks showing some fresh snow. However, not far in front of us, a couple of miles in my estimate, was a large blob of gray. The temperature now was 41 degrees, and in that blob of grey, temperatures were surely wet 30’s. I turned to Mike McHargue (who was also trying for sub-9 and who I was going to pace with for the race) and asked, “rain jacket?” “Hello no”. There was no question we would be wet and cold. The strategy though was to hope the rain would be short and that the energy expended during the climb would warm us. We didn’t want to be overheating on the climbs and waste precious seconds having to stop and stow a rain jacket. If we were going to make sub-9, it would be by mere minutes. Mike and I strategized on how to shave seconds by not stopping at certain aid stations and making sure our crew was so efficient that we wouldn’t have to stop for more than 30 seconds to replenish our fuel.
Race Start
The race began at 6:30am with a shotgun blast. Because of the standing room only density of the riders with their bikes, it took about 30 seconds to pass the starting line. We proceeded at around 20 mph for a few miles down the road as a large throng of riders elbow to elbow. Extreme focus had to be given on the riders all around, as any mistakes here could cause a massive pileup. Thankfully there were none, although I did see a single downed rider about 4 miles in whose accident seemed quite serious. The rain began somewhere along this section. It was mostly a very light rain and would vary in intensity for the next couple of hours.
St Kevins
The St. Kevins climb is about 1000 feet of climbing very early on in the race. It is the second steepest grade climb in the race and has many loose rocks and ruts. It would be considered a difficult climb except that it comes so early in the race that my fresh adrenaline soaked legs weather the climb quite well. The climb up St. Kevins began at a pace slightly less than desired. The climb was made more difficult due to the extreme focus on finding a good line up the technical trail with so many riders. I had to keep forward momentum, but not bump into elbow room crowd around me, all the while being careful to avoid rocks and ruts. A quick lack of focus means being forced into a sandy rocky rut and wasting a lot of energy trying to continue upwards and fine room between the riders to get out. After about 15 minutes of climbing, I was gasping for air and was content that although the pace of the riders in front of me was slower than I had planned, it was probably keeping me from burning out too early. Toward the top of this climb I began to feel a twitch in my right quadriceps. This is an early warning to muscle cramping, which if unaddressed could end my race. I was concerned to be feeling this during the first hour of the race. I was pretty sure, however, that I could fix the problem. Drink more water and gobble down some electrolyte (salt) pills. Thankfully my nutrition strategy prevented muscle cramps for the remainder of the race. The rain continued on and off for the next several hours.
Powerline Descent
Powerline is the steepest and most technical descent of the course. And as if a cruel joke, it is also the steepest and most technical climb of the race, which is faced at 80 miles. The 1600’ vertical descent takes about 10 minutes. It is very fast and fun, but can be race ending if you crash. There are ruts large enough to swallow your entire bicycle. The trail turns into peach pit of ruts. Miss the good line and you will end up in one of them. When I pre-rode the course, Powerline was very sandy. It was very difficult to maintain a fast pace and also braking control. Last year during a pre-ride I feathered my brakes down a section and went into a tailspin, falling backwards into a rut, leaving a large and painful bruise. It was after my pre-ride that I decided to stick with a wider grippier tire instead of a lower profile faster tire. It’s better to sacrifice a little time than risk a crash. However, due to the light rain, the surface was very tacky and my tires were gripping good. I was able to descend quickly and with confidence, although I had to slow down a bit to maintain control because the bumps were jarring me a bit too much. Once I reached the bottom of the descent I noticed my suspension fork dial was set at the ‘lock-out’ position. Whoops. At the bottom of powerline is a creek crossing. Riders line up at the bottom to walk over a wet plank. Most feel it’s worth sacrificing 15 seconds or so than soaking themselves through the 20 foot creek crossing, to the dismay of the crowd at the bottom egging people on to fly through the creek. For whatever reason every year I fly right through the creek, this year no exception. I was worried that the rains would make the water deeper, but I felt I was already so wet that I had little to lose, and perhaps the cheering crowd would offer a brief moment of pleasure. It did. The crowd loved it, and I loved hearing them cheer.
Powerline to Twin Lakes
The strategy of this section is to find a pace group. Riding in a group and letting the riders ahead of you break the wind can conserve 30% or more of your energy. This is a section where it is very important to conserve energy for the 8 mile, 3600’ ascent to come. With a little luck, you get in a large pace group and suck someone’s draft for 15 miles. I had no such luck. There were no pace groups to be found. Eventually I was able to latch onto a few riders, but they were going too slow for me to be on my sub-9 pace. As I pulled forward, they all latched onto my wheel to suck my draft, so I ended up expending too much energy while the clowns behind me were able to relax. Eventually I had to just peel off to the side, forcing another rider to the front, and slow down may pace so I could get some sort of rest. I’m forced to scrap some speed during the only section for a long while where I can get some recovery.
I blew right past the Pipeline Aid station. As I passed through, I was happy to hear ‘Go Gary’ from Kathleen Brooks. I never keep crew at Pipeline, and while she was crewing my friend Eric, I wasn’t sure why she was at Pipeline rather than Twin Lakes. Regardless, it was good to hear her cheer me on. I was so cold at this point that I barely could turn my head to acknowledge her. My lips and legs felt numb from the cold and rain. I didn’t want to eat or drink anything. Other than the rhythmic pedaling, I felt like a statue on the bike. I started to wonder what hypothermia felt like and how close I was to it. I was soaking wet, cold, and numb. I stopped and put on my rain jacket. Probably a couple of minutes wasted, but thankfully it shortly ended my misery. The rain jacket provided enough insulation to warm my wet body and turn my focus from the cold. Unfortunately I probably wasted too much energy trying to keep warm. I passed renowned Lance coach Chris Carmichael on this section. It made me feel good, as he was an 8:45 rider last year. Although I figured Lance’s comeback meant lots less training for him this year. I briefly chatted with him but I think he was suffering too and so not very talkative.
Twin Lakes
I made it to Twin Lakes in about 2:50, which was 5 minutes off of my sub-9 hour pace. Although I was only five minutes off, every time checkpoint I had was very aggressive and it would be difficult to make up this time. Last year pulling into Twin Lakes I was feeling good and hooting and hollering down to my crew as I was coming down. This year I was suffering. I wasn’t throwing in the towel for sub-9, but I was feeling the pain of the increased pace. I knew my batteries were drained and I was at the foot of the big climb. This year I had to do it in 1:40, 9 minutes faster than what I had thought was a blazing pace last year. I was realizing sub-9 was slipping away, but I was happy to see that I mostly maintained it for the first 40 miles of the race, considering the extra energy fighting to keep warm and soggy trail conditions. Although sub-9 was slipping away, I was still not giving up, and we’ll see how I do up to Columbine Mine.
Columbine was tougher than I had expected. Last year I picked a cog and a pace that allowed me to pass a lot of riders. Long steady hill climbs is something that I’m particularly good at. While I wasn’t concerned at this point with gaining or losing ‘positions’, passing riders was the sign I needed to see that told me I was close to my pace. I wasn’t passing enough riders, and some were even passing me. Not only was I not improving my pace from last year, but I felt worse and I felt my pace was slower. My fast start was really catching up with me now. About halfway up, Mike McHargue passed me. I was happy to see him. I had no goal to beat Mike. Actually, if I could just keep pace and work with Mike to the finish, that would be the sign of a successful race. Mike is an accomplished endurance athlete and Leadman (one who competes in all 5 Leadville endurance events). One week after the mountain bike race, Mike will compete in the 100 mile trail run over much of the same terrain. I tried keep up with his pace. I could only hold him for a few minutes. After he was about 10 bicycle lengths ahead, his pace seemed to slow and I tried to keep him in sight. I was able to do this for about the next 15 minutes. I was distracted by something, and then he was gone.
What is very exciting about the Columbine climb is the top of the mountain marks the 50 mile turnaround. Therefore, the race leaders are soon going to be coming down the mountain. The higher up the mountain I am when I see the race leaders, the better. At this point I’m wondering whom I will see first. I was pretty certain it would be Lance. Typically you’ll know when he’s coming by the shouting of cheering ahead as the leader approaches. The leader this year was Lance Armstrong. Either he was coming down so surprisingly fast, people were just exhausted, or nobody cared, but I heard no cheering to warn me that he was coming. I was just coming around a switchback as Lance came flying towards me. He grabbed a fistful of brake and gave an audible grunt as he briefly came to almost a complete stop, either to avoid flying off the trail or plowing into exhausted riders taking the turn too wide. As I continued the climb I tried to recognize other riders coming down. I noticed Dave Wiens somewhat far behind in second place, calling out encouragement on his way down, as he is know for doing. “Keep it up.. Good job, keep it up…”
The last third of Columbine is above treeline. The trail turns rocky and the pitch steep. It is beautiful but painful to see winding and unobstructed as far as the eye can see, a line of bikers slowly trudging their way upwards. It reminds me of the videos of Everest expeditions where you can see the summit of the mountain, but you know that short distance is a day or more away.
The sun never really came out. Most of the climb was cloudy with brief moments of sun. Now, I’m starting to feel a little bit of rain. The pitter patter of the rain increases, but I’m not really getting wet. Then my head starts to sting, and I realize that we are riding into a hailstorm. I still have about 20 minutes of climbing left, and I hope that as I climb the hail doesn’t increase in size, turn to snow, or worse, become an electrical storm. I begin to get cold again and stop to put on my rain jacket, which I stowed earlier at the Twin Lakes aid station. Thankfully the hailstorm does not last very long.
(randomly found picture on google of sort of what it looks like atop columbine)
Twin Lakes to Pipeline Inbound
It felt nice to make it to the top of Columbine. I uneventfully flew down the hill, making it back to our crew point in about 40 minutes. This was slower than my plan, but I found myself enjoying the descent and taking it a bit slower in order to get some of the recovery that I missed out on earlier. When I’m going too fast, I tense up too much and it does not offer as much rest. At Twin Lakes, Jill did an awesome job having my camelbak ready to go. I grabbed it, some new S-Caps, shot bloks, and I was off.
This section begins about 15 miles mostly flat terrain, with two short but incredibly steep ascents. Here again is where you want to latch on to some other riders and share turns pulling and resting in the draft. I could have really used the help because there was a strong crosswind. I was struggling to maintain a good pace on this section. I was losing a lot of time, but there was a massive double whammy 1600’ climb coming up, followed by another 30 minute climb, and the demons were telling me that there is no way I’m going to be able to do these climbs. I was slowing down in the hopes that somehow I would find some energy to continue on. However, the more I consumed, the more nauseous I felt. I don’t think I was metabolizing my fuel, and worse, I was worried I’d throw up. Some people passed and I tried holding onto their wheel to conserve energy. However, just focusing on the wheel in front of me and trying to maintain stride was more than I could handle. I was on my own, flapping in the breeze.
Pipeline Aid and Powerline
I wasn’t planning on stopping at Pipeline, but I needed help. I instructed a willing volunteer to dump half my camelbak full of energy drink and dilute it with water. I was desperate for some energy my body could metabolize to energy quickly. At the aid station I drank 3 shots of cola and some m&m’s. I knew I needed to drink a lot of water and I should have also filled the empty bottle in my cage with water, but I forgot. I was still hurting as the 15mph crosswind turned into a headwind. But, as if by magic, as I approached the powerline climb, I started feeling some more energy in my legs. I walked the first part of the climb, which is so steep that I had not planned to ride anyway. Toward the top of the portage, volunteers were offering more coke and candy. I took a couple more shots of coke and handful of fruity mike & ikes. I got on the bike and started climbing. There was a brief downhill section, and on this section I got my first flat tire. I secretly relished this time off the bike. Unfortunately, I was too wasted to do anything in a hurry, so I probably spent 10 minutes fixing my flat. I got back on the bike and was able to remain on my bike for just about all of the remaining climb. It was by no means a blazing pace. It was a “how slow can I climb while still being able to remain upright” type of pace. Even though sub-9 was long out of the question, I knew that simply staying on the bike would give me a shot at a respectable sub-10 performance.
The simple sugars were doing the trick. I felt ok cresting powerline and began the descent down the other side. The rain had stopped a while back and the sun was out. I was dry and it felt amazing to fly downhill and feel the cool breeze. The next climb is a long road climb. I had taken my last gulp of water and I had what I thought it was a 45 minutes up until the Carter Summit aid station and my new goal was to try to do it in 30. As I rounded the turn to the pavement, Kevin Kane was there cheering me on and holding out a bottle of water. I needed the water badly, but I was so stunned to see him, my natural reaction was to nod my head ‘no thanks’ and continue down. By the time I realized I had needed the water I was too far down the hill to turn around. I had to in order to finish in under 10 hours. Perhaps he had sensed that I still could use water, because about 5 minutes into the climb, an SUV pulls up to the side of me and Kevin’s outstretched arm is holding a half full bottle. While pedaling, I gladly take it, chug it down, and hand back the empty. It felt good to feel the crew support during a most unexpected time. I got to Carter Summit in 20 minutes. This was great. I had both climbed strong and overestimated the length of the climb. There was still some more off-road climbing, but I knew that I was in good position and it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. The good folks at Carmichael Training were manning the aid station. I asked for some coke and they have me half of a thermos full of it, which I chugged. I also jammed a handful of badly rain-weathered m&m’s down my throat, as well as two gooey melted bite sized milky way bars. I had never before trained with this nutrition plan, but it was working. Yumm! Somehow my legs received a boost of overdrive. I strongly pedaled the remaining climbs, and blasted down the descents. I knew I was behind where I should be because I passed many riders on the St. Kevins descent. My legs felt good and slingshotted by riders as if they were standing still on the brief uphill sections.
Leadville Junction to the Finish
After St. Kevin comes about four miles of dirt road, pavement, and a demoralizing slog up “The Boulevard”. On the pavement I was trying to keep a strong pace. On a pre-ride, this section took 30 minutes at a medium pace. I had about 45 minutes to get back before 10 hours. I was relatively sure that even after 100 hard miles of racing, I wouldn’t be 15 minutes off of my pre-ride pace, but I didn’t want to take chances, and it would have been nice to beat my 9:48 from the previous year. Ideally I would find some people whom I could draft. However, the riders near me where going too slow. Again I found that slower riders were drafting me, relaxing at my expense. Soon I hit ‘The Boulevard’. It starts off as a steep, rocky climb, but then levels out to a 15 minute, 3 mile gradual ascent. It is difficult only because it comes after 100 miles of riding and because everyone here is working harder than they would like in order to make whatever time goal they have set. My legs are feeling tired, and as I suspected, the slower riders who were relaxing in my draft previously are now passing me. Drafting them on the dirt and a climb would not be useful. I exit the boulevard, turn right onto 6th Ave, and soon see the finish ahead of me. I try to push hard enough to make it under 9:50. I arrive at the finish in 9:49.
I felt mostly good at the finish. After saying a few quick hellos and receiving some congratulations, Lisa told me Brent was right behind. I waited for him to finish just five minutes after me and congratulated him, and headed back to my room in Leadville for a quick shower and change. I then hung out for a while to wait for the rest of the 9 or so people who I knew who were doing the race. Later that night I had dinner at the McHargues and then headed back to my room, where I proceeded to experience some very cold chills. I went to bed wearing a t-shirt and two sweatshirts (one hooded) and was still freezing cold under the double covers. I fell asleep and woke at about 3am sweating. While I never felt sick during the race, I wonder if perhaps my body had been fighting something, and the weakened immune response during the activity of the race caused the bug to take hold. Who knows. The next day was the award ceremony, and then travel back to DC.
It was great during this trip to experience creating good memories together with new and old friends.
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