Beverly Fat Tire Frenzy

I had a long blogpost written and then I lost it. So I will summarize. This was my first mountain bike race in 3 years. I came in DFL. The mud was terrible, it was slick, there was lightning and pouring rain. I didn't fall down. It was a good day.

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Sugar Bottom Scramble 2010

OK, so again I entered the fray and tried my second mountain bike race of the year. My first attempt at mountain bike racing did not go very well at all as I wrote about in this post : http://mikemac356.blogspot.com/2010/04/decorah-time-trials-aka-suck-fest-2010.html

Normally I run, I am not much of a mountain biker although I do enjoy it, I was pretty apprehensive about this race but having said I would do it by God I was going to do it. The Sugar Bottom Scramble was billed as the Iowa State Mountain Bike Championships and the race was held 23 miles south of where I currently live so it was definitely convenient. The course would be run on the mountain bike trails in the Sugar Bottom recreation area around the Coralville Reservoir.

Things didn't start out the best as I was on call at the ambulance service the night prior to the race and as luck would have it we got a couple calls that were spaced out so I really didn't get much rest. I also could not find my bike tools, extra tube or chain lube in my newly cleaned garage. I did try to hydrate though and I definitely succeeded as I had to use the porto potty several times before the race started. Myself and Jessie arrived about 0900 for the 1000 start of the Cat 3(beginner) category. We had to walk about 400 meters to the sign in point where I filled out the necessary waivers, then Jessie stayed there while I went back to the car to get my bike and equipment. The first thing I noticed about this race as compared to the time trials earlier in the year was everyone didn't look like Lance Armstrong. There actually looked like there was a few guys I could beat and everyone was not wearing spandex. The atmosphere was much friendlier and less cliquish.

At 1000 we all lined up on the gravel round headed east for the mass start, there was 27 of us Cat 3 riders as well as 3 Collegiate Division guys that had decided to race with us. I stayed to the back of the pack not really knowing what to expect with the mass start. After a few words of  encouragement the race organizer blew a whistle and I hit the start button on my GPS and away I went. I was at the back of the pack as we pedaled down the road and up a steep hill, as we climbed the hill the first rider fell out as he was having chain issues. I passed him and took a right into the woods. 

The first thing I noticed was that the trails were not as difficult as the ones at Decorah as well as being dry. Decorah had been brutal as well as muddy. The course went generally downhill for the first two miles and I was keeping one of the collegiate riders in my field of vision as I shifted gears into the second chain ring and concentrated on keeping my pedals spinning over the roots and around the turns. Somewhere in the first two miles the rider with the chain problem passed me on a turn and I was dead last. No problem I thought I just need to finish. The chain guy had issues two more times and we passed each other twice in the next two miles until he must have resolved the problem and he pulled away and I never saw him for the rest of the race.

Approximately mile 4 I passed the collegiate rider who had been slowing down since we entered the uphill section, at mile 4.6 I passed two more riders on a hairpin turn, they were stopped and looked like they had some medical issues. I resolved to keep a steady pace. 5 miles into the race we popped back out onto the gravel road this time heading west, I knew that we were about half way but I also knew the most technical part of the course was to come. My legs were starting to fell the burn from all the climbing in the first 5 miles.  As we entered the woods again we paralleled the lake for about .5 miles and the cool breeze and the boats on the water made me glad I had entered this race. As we crossed the road again I saw a long uphill section of single track and slipped down into the easiest gears.

I was alone, I could see no one ahead nor hear anyone behind. I kept pedaling telling myself no matter how slow I went I needed to keep pedaling and not to coast. We were hitting intermediate and expert level trails at this point and there were several places were I had to push the bike uphill when I lost momentum on an obstacle. We crossed and recrossed a little creek on wooden plank bridges that were usually followed by steep rocky uphill climbs. It was at mile 6.8 as I was going down hill on a particular steep and rooted section of the course that I got too far over my handle bars and went ass over teakettle. Bike going one way and me the other. Unlike Decorah this was my only crash and I recovered quickly jumping back on the bike and heading down the trail. I heard voices ahead and saw an incredibly steep hill with people standing at the top. From pre race recon I knew this must be the double black diamond "Cyclocross Hill." Discretion being the better part of valor at this point, I just hopped off my bike and ran and pushed my bike up the hill. I waved to the spectators as I  hammered it ( for me anyway) towards the finish line, which I knew was less than a mile ahead. I rode passed the finish line as Jessie clapped for me. This race was much better than my previous experience. For one thing I didn't finish dead last and I actually enjoyed myself. I will definitely be doing this race again next year.

Addendum: GO Mikey GO!!http://www.flickr.com/photos/13292076@N08/4944210486/in/set-72157624721249001/lightbox/

Decorah Time Trials aka Suck Fest 2010

In my continued quest to keep at least some of the "action" in Former Action Guy I try to participate in at least one competitive sporting event per month. Mostly this involves running, and I have competed in races from 5k to Marathon. I have also participated in one sprint distance triathlon but find it hard to train for those with no convenient place to swim. The last couple of years however I have been mixing my running with mountain biking as a way to cross train and to give the knee that I had surgery on a rest from the continual pounding. I enjoy mountain biking and their are some really nice trails literally yards from my house. So this led me to get a wild hair and I decided to enter a mountain bike race. I looked around the state for a good beginning race and decided on the Decorah Time Trials because it had individual starts as opposed to a mass start. Riders would leave the start line at one minute intervals and negotiate the course at all possible speed. So I sent in my entry fee and marked my calendar for April 25th.

Decorah, Iowa is located in extreme northeastern Iowa about 20 miles south of the Minnesota border. It is beautiful country and the Decorah Parks and Trails systems are located over and around a set of massive bluffs on the northern edge of the town. The Time Trials Website said this about the course:10 miles, 3,189' of climbing, 402' elevation change. It also said " This course is highly technical, use common sense and always stay with in your ability level." If I was a thinking man, I would have started thinking right after reading this, however being a former action guy I pretty much discounted this description as so much editorial fluff. I ride my bike at least once a week, what could be so technical?

My first indication it was going to be a long day was that I had inadvertently scheduled myself to be on call at the ambulance service I volunteer at the night prior to the race. Being an out of town member I am required to stay at the ambulance garage while on call. I usually don't sleep very well at the garage, not sure why that is but I usually go home tired the next morning. That night while on call we had a page for, you guessed it a bicycle accident. I can't say much because of HIPPA considerations but it was pretty serious in my opinion and I hope the individual is ok. On the way back from the hospital I started day dreaming and hoping this wasn't some kind of bad omen. I had been experiencing some apprehension about the race and this kind of put an exclamation point on it. I think it was mostly nervousness about the unknown, something action guys feel all the time. I had felt it many times myself but not for awhile. But even former action guys shrug this nervousness off, old habits die hard.

The morning of the race dawned gray, rainy and about 50 degrees, I woke up about 0400 after a restless night and packed my stuff to head back to the house. I arrived home about 0500 and woke my oldest girl and youngest boy to accompany me and be my road crew. Jade was to be the official photographer and backup driver in case for some reason I was unable to drive. Jessie was just along because he is cool and still likes to do things with me. We piled into the Escape and headed to Decorah. It was about a 3 hour drive and they slept most of the way, while I switched the radio tuner between NPR and Country music. When we arrived in Decorah we were a little early for check in so we stopped at Mickey D's to grab some chow. Of course I ordered two sausage and egg biscuits and after we drove away I discovered that the mental giant behind the counter had given me two sausage biscuits. I always get screwed at the drive thru.

So we found the check in and I parked along the road and went to grab my packet with tshirt and race number. One of the highlights of my life is the new race tshirt. I savor the designs and the new shirt smell. It is my tradition that I don't get to wear the shirt until I finish the race. One of those bad luck thingies. I have hundreds of them and every few years I have to cull the herd and get rid of them. A few years ago I had the bright idea of making some of them into a quilt as a way to recycle them. A family member who shall remain nameless (M*m) assures me it will be done by this July. As I made my way to the check in tent I couldn't help but notice that most of the people that were there all looked pretty fit and most of them had some kind of biking outfit on, consisting of spandex biking bibs and multi logoed shirts. Pears don't look good in spandex so I was sporting a pair of black baggy shorts and a cotton tshirt advertising the "MWR Balkans Turkey Trot 2002." There was also a multitude of bikes, single speeds, multi speeds, 29 inch tires, clip on pedals, and everything in between. My bike was a 300 dollar model I had bought in Colorado about 7 years ago. I was wearing my running shoes which were clip-less.

Since I had pre-registered I was able to select my start time and wanting to get a head start on what I suspected would be a learning experience I picked the first open start time available. I would start 14 minutes after the first rider which I figured should put me in good shape to finish with light for the drive home. I grabbed my stuff, perused the information sheet in the packet and affixed my race number to my handle bars. A lot of the other riders were warming up by riding up and down the road, never having been big on all that kind of stuff I sat in the car with my kids and Jade showed me pictures and videos off the laptop she had brought. I did however have to get out and use the porto potty about a million times. This is normal for me, it means my adrenaline is kicking in. I used to hate this when I was a parachutist because it is very difficult to piss once your rigged up and I used to have to get pretty inventive to answer natures call.

At 0950ish a guy with called us all to the start line and gave us a pre-race briefing. Everyone seemed to be pretty chummy and there was a lot of cat calling and joking while he was trying to speak. The race started about 1005 and as I waited my turn to start I tried to get some pointers on techniques from the riders ahead of me. Basically it looked like they were just riding all out until they were out of our sight. I decided I would start steady but not too hard I wanted to pace myself. The start itself was my first challenge, when it was my turn I moseyed up to the start line and waited for the countdown. One of the race staff grabbed my seat and told me to go ahead and sit. I guess this was so riders could clip into their pedals prior to the start, as I mentioned before I was clip-less and I was used to starting with one foot on the ground so the start was mildly disconcerting as I felt pretty dorkish.

When the official starter said GO!! I took off at what I hoped was a mannish looking speed, the first 200 meters of the course were on a paved surface and up and over a small hill. Once I crested the hill I could see some race staff pointing to my left into the woods. I took a sharp left and headed up the trail which almost immediate started going up hill. The grade was pretty steep and the trail was muddy and slick. Did I mention it was raining? I slipped out of my pedals, Did I mention I was clip-less? I figured discretion was the better part of valor and I started running up the hill pushing my bike ahead of me. This pattern repeated itself multiple times over the next 2 miles. My tires had so much mud on them I was getting no traction going up hill and eventually I stopped trying and just got off and pushed on all the inclines. I think 2000 feet of that 3000+ feet of climb the website had mentioned was all in the first frickin two miles. The trail kept switch backing up and down the first ridge line, taking us almost to the top and then almost back to the bottom again. My heart rate was redlining as I struggled and gasped for breath. It was during this time the first rider passed me, eventually I would lose count of how many did. Finally the trail dumped us out on the top of the ridge line and it started heading down the other side. It was about this time the GPS I had fastened to my handle bars lost signal and turned off. From that point forward I lost all concept of time and distance in the seemingly endless collection of muddy switchbacks and roots.

I remember thinking somewhere along the way that this would have made an excellent Special Forces Selection and Assessment event. The course continued to take us up and over a set of steep ridges and my legs were starting to get tired. It was about the middle of the course where the"technical" part really started. I took my first spill as I tried to jump a log. My rear wheel hit the log and skidded to the left kicking me into the downside of the hill. I toppled over like a weeble and the only thing that kept me from rolling down the hill was a fortuitously placed bush. Since my head was downhill and my feet where uphill it took some maneuvering and a lot of energy to get myself back on the trail. The impact of the crash had knocked my rear brake cable out of its clip and I discovered I had no rear brakes as I tried to maneuver around a steep hairpin turn a little further down the trail. I managed to stop by using my front brake and leaning way back off the rear of my bike. I scoped out the issue and discovered all I had to do was get the cable back into its housing and back on the clip. This I did with a little cussing. My second crash happened as I tried to negotiate a large rock and root obstacle.My front tire stuck in the root sending me not quite over the handle bars and into a small tree. Once again I fell over rather violently and wasted a lot of energy righting myself. The roots along the trail were constantly causing my rear tire to skid like a drift racer in Tokyo, and I was hoping for a small section of flatness where I could catch my breath.

My third and final crash was the most spectacular. I was negotiating a particularly steep downhill section and over compensated and got too far over my handle bars as I tried to make another steep turn. I went ass over teakettle, bike and all, and ended up under my bike with my left calf stuck in the frame. My calf had this enormous cramp in it and I couldn't get it unstuck from the frame. I also happened to do this right in front of the aid tent that was setup up in the valley between the ridge lines. A large group of boisterous and drunk mountain bikers were cheering on the contestants as we passed by. One of them asked me if I was all right and tried to help me up. I managed to struggle to my feet and mumbled to him that I had a cramp. I tried to hop on my bike and get out of there with what was left of my dignity but low and behold my chain had come off my chain ring. One of the revelers called out" Hey it works better with the chain on!" I grimaced as I got the chain back on the ring and hopped on my bike. As I pedaled by him I grinned and said "Thanks for the advice." He grinned back, raised his beer can and said " No problem. I'm a mechanic."

There was only about .5 miles left in the race when we crossed back over the paved road and headed into a flat final stretch. I actually managed to speed up and change to a higher gear as I crossed the finish line, giving Jade the "Hang Loose" sign as she took my picture. I gingerly got off my bike and handed it and my helmet to Jessie as I tried to walk off the last 2.5 hrs of torture. I was muddy and exhausted but I had finished

I am writing this two days after the race is over and I have several bruises and some road rash but I am mostly good to go. I am starting to remember fondly some of the good things that happened during the race, like the two deer I saw mere yards away as I picked myself up from my second crash, or the huge morrel mushrooms I saw as I was trudging up one of the many uphills. I am already scheming about buying a better bike and maybe training for another race in August. In the interest of full disclosure I would like to say that of all the riders that finished the course I came in dead last with a time of 2 hours 29 minutes. However out of the 102 riders that participated only 87 finished. I was one of those 87, and I did it on a 300 dollar bike and with no skill to speak of. I am a proud of that and I will be wearing this tshirt for a long time.