It has now been a little over 60 hours since I got off the
bike after crossing the finish line in Leadville. At the time of finishing I was adamant about
not returning saying ‘NEVER AGAIN’ but much like anything that was difficult,
as time passes the pain dulls, the hardships disappear, and I’m finding myself
more and more open to potentially going back for another go… With that said, open to potentially going
back is far from committing to doing this extremely hard race a second time.
My buddy Mark and I drove up to his sister’s cabin in Basalt
CO. It was right at 7,800’. We stayed there from Friday to the following
Thursday morning. During that time we
got used to altitude, relaxed, and got in a little riding. There’s a road from Basalt to Hagerman Pass
that has a steady 2.5% grade from 7k’ up to 11.5k’ at the Hagerman rail tunnel
(approx. 25miles from the cabin.) We
rode this road several times during our stay, each day it got easier and easier. On Monday we made a recon drive over to
Leadville and drove to various places on the course including ¾’s the way up
Columbine. This was Mark’s 10th year to
do the race so he knew how to get around the course. At the time it was a tad bit intimidating for
me to finally see the course in person.
The video’s and pictures do not do this course justice.
Our wives arrived on Tuesday (they flew in) and we hung out
with them on Tuesday and Wed and got in a hike.
Thursday morning we all left Basalt and headed for Leadville.
We arrived in Leadville (10,200’) Thursday afternoon in time
to register and pick up our race packets.
The town was lined with bikes, vehicles with bike racks, bike riders,
and their crews. The little town was
very busy. Mark and Katy have a friend
who has a nice vacation house in Leadville so we headed over there and met up
with our other friends that were also staying there – Garret and Linda. We all went out to eat that night and came
home to go to bed. Friday we got up and
rode the start out to the base of St Kevins (pronounced St Keevins), the first
real climb of the day, and then rode the finish. The last 3 miles is not out-and-back, the
course splits and there is a completely different route to the finish. After the ride we went back to the house,
changed, and headed over to the mandatory race meeting.
The mandatory pre-race meeting was held in the local high
school gym. It was jammed packed with
people. After some talks, discussions,
and other ceremony we were free to leave and get ready the next day’s race. We opted to go back to the house and hang
out. We thought we were ready to roll
for the next day and would spend the afternoon chilling but that was before
bike maintenance, grocery store visit, clothes and gear prep, food prep, crew
route recon, and dinner ate most of our Friday afternoon. Before we knew it the sun was down and we had
to roll out to the starting line in 6 hours…
After a decent night’s sleep, I got up with Garret and
ate. Everyone else got up and started
getting ready to. We got dressed and
rode over the starting line. Temps were
somewhere around 42 degrees but I hardly felt the chill as I was amped up and
ready to get this show on the road. The
ride over to the start took about 10minutes and we headed off to our designated
corrals. As I got in to my silver corral
(thanks to a good qualifying race at the Austin Rattler, I’m up in the front) I
hear the announcer say we have 42minutes till the start.
42minutes went by quickly.
I brought my iPod and jammed out to a familiar playlist I had often
trained to. Eventually I see Zach (he’s
in the silver corral with me) so I go over and talk with him briefly. With 10minutes to go I handed my iPod off and
tried to keep my anxiety to a low. They
collapsed the corrals and all the riders moved up and packed in. At this point I was surrounded by a couple
hundred other riders. We were probably
20 riders across and 200 or more yards deep (I’m told there are close to 2,000
of us.) Michelle is standing off to the
side of me outside the barriers, I can’t really look over at her to much
because she seemed more nervous than I was.
The start of the Leadville 100 goes off with a bang,
literally a shotgun bang. We’re rolling
and the speeds are building quickly because the start route is all downhill. I’m currently in the front 150 riders and can
see the leaders up ahead. Speeds
continue building and we’re soon rolling out of the city at well over 30mph. Looking back at the computer file, we
averaged 28mph for the first 7 minutes!
Our giant pack pass several Single Speed riders who despite spinning
what seems to be a 150 cadence, they can’t match the speed of the start. Despite how fast we’re going, I see the front
group of pros putting a gap in us. By
now Zach has moved on and is up front with the others. This is the last time I see him on the
course.
Shortly after we cross the railroad tracks and make the
famous right hand turn off the pavement on to the dirt and we start heading for
St Kevins. The opening climbs are small
rollers and the pack starts separating.
We get to the meat of the climb and I quickly realize this day is not
going to be an easy one. The power meter
shows I’m well over 500 watts (which is not remotely sustainable) so I force
myself to back down the power and as I do I quickly start getting passed and left by
those I was previously riding with.
About 5 minutes in to the climb I feel my head throbbing, a headache is
coming on. I back down the power a
little more and finish the climb. As I
crest, I feel a hand on my back and it gives me a gentle push. It’s Mark.
I tell Mark I have a headache and he can tell I’m not
looking good. It’s good to see my
friend, especially in that moment but at the same time it tells me I’ve given
away a lot of time and positions. That
opening climb has already put a beating on me and we still have 80-something
miles to go. Mark goes on and I descend
behind him with a dozen other guys.
(Later Mark tells me that he thought I was going to quit because I
looked so bad when he came up on me.)
It’s a 4 mile paved road decent and I get a chance to recover.
At the bottom we see our crew (our wives) waiting for us before we
cutover to the Hagerman section that leads to the Sugarloaf climb. It was great to see them and it gives me a
little boost. (Later I realize this race
is one of a lot of little boost brought about by friends, family, and cheering
supporters.) We start the Sugarloaf
section and Mark opens a gap on me. My headache
seems to be gone but I keep the power at bay and work my way up the various
climbs of this segment. This series of
climbs are draining. I’m passed by 30-50
people in this section including professional cyclist Rebecca Rusch and the lady she was pacing.
At the top we start to descend, this section is called
Powerline but it’s basically the backside of Sugarloaf. It’s a fast decent with lots of rocks, some -15%+ grades, wash outs, and everything else you don’t want to see when flying
downhill. I’m flying down the various
descents and passing riders often taking lines through the worst of the rocks
but it’s difficult to stop a speeding train.
While I’m somewhat terrified by what I’m doing, somehow it makes me
smile and laugh so I keep it up completely white knuckled. I pass Rebecca’s friend toward the bottom and
then pass Rebecca at the very bottom as she slows up to find her friend. My body is drained now and I’ve still got a
LONG way to go. Catching up with Rebecca
and her friend gives me a little hope and a smile. I pay her a nice compliment and she says "Thanks" as I ride on. Time to find some friends of my own as I make my way to
the section called pipeline.
The section between Powerline and Pipeline is a lot of roads
and pastures. It’s open and exposed and
the wind is brutal. You need friends and
a paceline to get through this section quickly.
I group up with 5-6 riders and we start rolling. We make it to Pipeline and I blow through the
feed zone without getting anything from our ‘other crew,’ the Ross family. Seeing them ready to take care of us gives me
yet another little jolt. It’s 45minutes
to the next feed zone where Michelle, Katy, and Linda are waiting for us and I
have plenty of fluids to make it.
The next section between twin lakes (the base of Columbine)
and Pipeline is relatively easy and open with some nice single track
sections. I bridge up to a group and
join them. I eventually leave this group
and bridge to another. Behind me a
tandem crew creeps by and I jump in their draft. We hit some single track and this tandem crew
is railing the single track. We’re flying
through this single track and they don’t miss a beat. This tandem crew is bad ass. The single track spits us out on to some more
roads and somehow I catch up with Mark and his group. This gives me a new flicker of joy. It’s incredibly charging to see my friend on
the course again.
Coming in to Twin Lakes you descend out of a neighborhood,
cross the road, and make sharp left turn in to one of the parking lot of Twin
Lakes. I take the lead on the descent
and hit 35+mph as I cross the road I’m starting to panic as I’m going way to
fast. Somehow I manage to transition to
the short piece of single track and make the hard left turn in to the parking
lot. We roll across the Twin Lakes dam
through the feed zone (it’s a circus here – literally hundreds of crew members
yelling, cheering, crewing, and seemingly having a party.) Our crew is at the alternative twin lakes
area which is about 10min further up the course, literally at the base of
Columbine. I head over there with
Mark.
We see our crew and pull over to grab some food and new
bottles. At this time I’m still on a
sub-9hr pace but Columbine is no cake walk.
I eat a rice cake portable and Mark takes off. I eventually take off not looking forward to
what lies ahead. As I start going up I
see Mark up ahead and start closing him down.
I get within a couple of bike links but the constant 7% grade is taking
a toll on me so I decide to back down the power and find my own pace up the 6
mile climb.
As Mark pulled away from me I set in to a pace I could
maintain and found a rhythm. It seems
everyone is passing me and I’m NOT passing anyone. “oh well” I tell myself “just get up this
climb.” About 1/3 of the way up the pace
motorcycle comes down honking “Riders coming”.
The pro’s are already coming down!?!?
I see the leaders and I’m humbled by how fast these folks really are in
person. They are at least an hour ahead
of me and we’re around 3 and a half hours in to this race. Rebecca and her friend catch and pass
me. The tandem crew catches and passes
me. Daniel, one of Wink’s friends passes
me. Several people comment “how did you
get here big guy?” Several other try to
encourage me by saying “way to go big guy keep going.” I just keep my head down, control my
breathing, and focus on grinding out a tempo.
¾’s of the way up Columbine the road goes away and turns in
to a rocky jagged jeep trail. As it
makes this transition it also gets steeper.
I see Ken (the founder of the Leadville event) up ahead sitting atop his
4wheeler on a tight rocky section where people are already walking. The two riders in front of me get off their
bike in front of him and I have no choice but to get off too as there is
nowhere for me to go (I’m extremely thankful to them for this.) The air here is getting thin at an elevation
of over 11,500’ but almost as bad as the thinning air is how the trail is
turning upward. Grades are 12%+. Ken makes a comment that the two riders in
front of me (both wearing Lifetime Fitness kits) were “making that kit look
bad.” They say nothing and we keep
pushing our bikes up hill.
There are a few more sections along the upper part of
Columbine where we have to get off and walk.
I start seeing some of the people who passed me (Rebecca and her friend,
Mark, the Tandem crew, and a few others) coming down but I don’t care anymore I
just need to get to the top. The last
mile of that climb is ridiculous – rocks, thin air, descending riders, tight
jeep road, erosion, steep grades, and other ascending riders who are just as
taxed as me. It’s also quite disturbing
to look up (you are now above the timber line) and see how far that last mile
really is as it snakes up to the top of the mountain. I finally get to the top, make the small
descent in to the turn around, and I’m ready to get the heck off this
mountain. I'm at 4:50 at the top, I can still
break 9 hours! I get a surge of energy
and joy, “Columbine is done” I cheer to myself.
But, before I can start to get off Columbine I have to climb back up the
descent I previously made in to the turn around. I snicker at the cruel joke this small climb
is to me and my tired legs.
I make the short climb and I’m flying down the
mountain. As I start down the trail is
full of people now. Literally there are
people everywhere trying to get themselves up the mountain – most pushing their
bikes as there is nowhere to ride. I’m
worried about running in to one of them (or a whole line of them) but my main
priority is getting to the bottom. A few
riders in the line call my name but I can’t see them, I have to concentrate on
going downhill. I get to where Ken was
and he’s still sitting there watching.
There’s literally a line of people and bikes lined up from the top to
the ½ way point down the mountain and most are walking. As I’m flying down I pass so many people who
are still working to make the journey up.
I bridge up to another fast descender and we’re flying down
together. He over cooks a turn and slides
out at about 25mph. I slow, he says he’s
okay, and I keep going. My brakes are
squealing loudly in a pitch I’m not used to and that is obviously caused by the
heat of constant use. Texas descents
have nothing on this place. I imagine
they are glowing red like a formula1 car but I refuse to look down at them,
there’s nothing I can do but hope they will hold. I pass a few more descenders and I’m off of
Columbine! This brings me great joy and
I’m still on a sub 9 pace. I pull in and
get some more bottles another rice cake portable and I get rolling.
Making my way from Twin Lakes to Pipeline is fairly
uneventful but the day and the climbing is starting to take a physical toll on
me. I make it to Pipeline but I pretty
much ride most of it on my own because there are no groups and the riders I
bridge to are more spent than I. The
wind is ripping in to our face and nobody seems to want to push very hard in to
the wind.
I get to the Pipeline feed zone and see the girls and get
yet another little boost in seeing familiar faces. I get some fresh bottles and I’m
rolling. Ugh, Powerline is coming
up. Everyone tells me this is the
hardest part of the course and at this time I’m pretty worn down as I’ve been
on the course around 6 and a half hours.
I work my way over to Powerline and it’s a daunting site looking up from
the base of this section. I’m told the
first part is extremely difficult to ride with fresh legs and that much more
difficult when your legs are spent. I
give it a shot and don’t make it far before I’m off and pushing along with
everyone else in front of me. ¼ of the
way up I get on the bike and try to ride up.
I make it about 100’ before I have to get off again. I’m torqueing so hard on the pedals in such a
low gear that the front end of the bike is floating up and it’s going where it
wants to go (toward the wash outs) instead of where I want it to go. I have to get off again. I push the rest of the way up the initial
face of this iconic climb.
The problem with the Powerline section is that it never
ends. You make it to the top of a long
climb and you descend only to come around to another big climb. This happens 4-5 times. I walk some of the pieces of these various
sections. By this time I’m out of gas
and I quickly develop a new climbing strategy, when I see others walking, I
don’t even try, I just get off and walk that section too. I look at the clock and I know it’s highly
unlikely I’m going to break 9 hours now.
I have a little emotional breakdown but quickly get over my pity-party
and focus on finishing. I decide I can
finish in under 9:30 which is still respectable and I’m okay with this because
I’ve done everything I could do up to this point and despite my best efforts I
just didn’t have what it took to break 9 hours.
A few of these Powerline ups and downs and I’m spent –
physically and mentally. About the time
I see the final climb of Pipeline (I didn’t know it at the time) I say “Lord,
if this is what you got for me just keep throwing it at me because I’m
committed and I’m not going to quit, I’ll just keep doing whatever I got to do
to get over these.” I get to the top and
start descending, it’s the final decent and I’m quickly off SugarLoaf. I get an immediate endorphin drop and a huge
smile at knowing the hardest parts of the course are over.
My endorphin drop is extended when I make the turn off of
Hagerman pass and see our crew of Michelle, Katy, and Linda standing
there. Seeing my wife and friends was
refreshing. They give me more bottles, I
drink some extra water, and I’m off to make the final climb – the backside of
St Kevins.
This final test is 4 miles up a winding paved mountain road
that has an average grade of 5%. I
quickly find my tempo and to my surprise I’m passing people. I’m finally passing people on a climb! I get to the top and I’ve passed 15-20 people
on my way up. I exit the climb and get
on the St Kevins dirt and head downhill.
I’m on a super endorphin drop now and I’m all smiles from ear to
ear. I’m passing people. I’m patting people on the back as I pass and
cheering them on. I get to the bottom
and make it back to the paved road. I’m
riding solo and I’m riding strong again, nobody is attempting to ride with me
but it’s okay, I got 4 miles until I’m across the finish line.
The road to the finish has a detour up a dirt road that we
didn’t go out on. It’s also approx. 600’
to ascend back in to the city from the bottom of St Kevins. Again I’m catching and passing more
people. As I’m coming up on these two
riders with identical kits I hear one say “There’s the 9 hour mark, we didn’t
make it.” I look down at my computer and
it says 9:00:23. It doesn’t even make me
sad or phase me in any way at this point.
I look at the guys and say “we may not have broken 9 but we have a hell of
a respectable time.” They look over,
smile, nod, and say “yes we do.” I pick
up the pace but they don’t go with me. I
pick off a few more riders and make it over to the final hill approx. 200yds
before the finish line.
People are lined up on both sides of the road cheering. I see a guy on the hill and he’s
struggling. The people are screaming and
cheering for me and telling me to catch that guy. I race on and catch him as he crests the top
to the cheer of the crowd. As I crest I
see the finish line and ALL the people.
I’m so excited I keep my momentum going and descend the hill to the
finish line. I hear the announcer say my
name and time as I cross the red carpet finish, I’m done!
I sit on my top tube and start looking for Michelle and the
crew as I catch my breath and soak in the moment. One of Wink’s friends recognize my kit and
snaps a picture. The folks there give me
all kinds of loot – hats, treats, water, food, medal, wet towels, and other
stuff. After a few minutes Michelle
comes up, takes my bike, and I see Zach.
He smoked the course at 8:30-something.
We talk for a minute but I want to sit down. Michelle directs me over to where Mark is
sitting and I finally get a much needed break from the day.
9:15:22 was my official finish time. 353 out of 1271 who finished (another 600 or
so started but were pulled from the course for not making the allotted time
cuts.) This was a hard and taxing
race. While I’m more open to the idea of
doing it again, I think I may be okay with just crossing it off my bucket
list. The 2015 Austin Rattler qualifier
is a long ways off and a lot can happen between now and then…
