W

hen I saw Sam ahead of me I knew that it was time to attack. Glory was at hand. Sam was the strongest rider amongst the group of friends I was racing the 2010 Julian Death March with and if I finished ahead of him, I would be first among my friends. It was Go-Time.

The Julian Death March is an 86-mile mountain bike race that gains 14,000 feet of elevation on everything from clean pavement to hike-a-bike jeep trails. I first raced the JDM last year and completed the first 62-mile loop in about 7 hours before calling it quits. Not being able to complete the full course last year left a sour taste in my mouth and I was back for redemption. I would do everything to finish the full Death March this year.

The race started at 8:00am from Frank Lane Park in Julian which is really just a dirt parking lot. About 80 riders rolled out of town on pavement with a police escort. We turned left onto a rolling country road making our way into the hills. I was in a group just behind the leaders, watching them quickly spin away. Placing high up in the JDM was out of the question; my goal was to simply survive the race. In order to survive, I needed to keep an easy pace early on and let the leaders go. My friend Sam was in that front group – he’s a serious hardman.

Mickey and I looking fresh before the race.

The gap was widening when a rider flashed out of our group, sprinting to join the leaders. She was going all out to chase them down and I seriously wondered if she knew this was an 86-mile race. If it was so important to stay with the leaders, she should have been with them from the start. Chasing at full power in the first half hour of the race can’t be good.

The leaders disappeared and soon we were flying down the 8-mile descent along Eagle Peak Road. Down, down, down we went on gravel roads. It’s eerie losing 2,500 feet of elevation all at once because you know you’re going to have to get it back soon enough. After 20 minutes in free-fall, the fun was over and we made the left had turn onto Cedar Creek and began climbing rugged jeep trails.

Great fisheye perspective on the initial 2,500 foot descent.

I kept an easy pace and focused on proper nutrition – it was going to be a really long day. The jeep trails gave into gravel roads and then quickly into smooth pavement as I began the climb up Engineers. I was feeling much better than I did racing last year and made quick progress to the top.

I was racing with several friends. My friend Sam was with the leaders. Dr. Hodges was somewhere ahead, not sure how far ahead. And my friend Mickey was somewhere behind, taking a slightly easier pace to finish the day. So, I considered myself 3rd among friends, which isn’t bad – it’s at least on the podium, right?

Sam, Dr. Hodges, Mickey and I.

After a quick stop to refill bottles, I began my descent down Chariot Canyon. I was feeling great and kept a quick pace as I turned down Rodriguez Canyon to the base of the infamous Oriflamme climb. Oriflamme is an absolute beast climbing 1,600 feet in just 3.5 miles over a rutted and rocky jeep trail. It was in the early steepness of Oriflamme that I discovered that my lowest gear was worn out, the chain skipping whenever I tried applying high torque. I walked a lot more than normal telling myself I was preparing for the hike-a-bike sections of the Leadville 100.

At one point I was passed by two women racers. They looked super strong and were climbing fast. I remembered passing them earlier and said “Hello” as they rolled past me walking. I caught them up near the top as they apparently stopped to pee. We would spend the rest of the race leap-frogging each other. The only reason I ever caught them was when they stopped to pee. Funny.

Back at the top of Chariot Canyon I felt déjà vu descending again. But, instead of turning towards Rodriguez this time, I kept left headed for the base of Banner Grade. I found Dr. Hodges at the Aid Station at the bottom of Banner Grade and we left together in search of the new section of the JDM nicknamed “Wayne’s Trail”.

Headed to Chariot Canyon after Fages Monument.

The trail turned out to be little more than a goat path through the rocks and weeds. With my lowest gear out of commission, I was forced to walk a lot and got frustrated and a bit bonky. I was not prepared for the climb back into Julian to be this difficult and I suffered as I watched Dr. Hodges go off the front.

The Girls passed me at some point then another woman racer passed me that I recognized as the one who’d sprinted to join the leaders early on. How the heck did she get behind me? She must have gotten lost along the way. She climbed ahead of me and then dropped down another trail to the left and began to accelerate away. I didn’t think there was a descent here so I stopped and consulted my Garmin to find out she’d just gone off trail again. She was headed back for the bottom of the climb. I shouted “Wrong way!” to no avail. I remember seeing her wearing earbuds…

On Hwy 79 speeding towards Soapstone Grade.

I finished the remaining bits of the climb and headed back into Julian, the first 62-miles of the race complete. This is when I had quit last year, too exhausted to go for the final 22-mile section. When I had checked in last year they asked me if I was headed back out and I had answered, “Heck no!” This year, when I checked in I told them I was headed back out before being asked. I wanted to commit to going back out.

Dr. Hodges was just finishing up refilling his bottles when I arrived. We decided to head out for the second section together. As I was mixing Perpetuem I saw Brent Prenzlow (race winner) who said “Hello”. We chatted a bit and it dawned on me that he’d won the entire race 20 minutes faster than it took me to complete the first 62 miles. Damn, that’s fast.

Dr. Hodges and I heading into the Santa Ysabel Preserve.

Within minutes, Dr. Hodges and I were speeding towards the Santa Ysabel Preserve and the final miles of the race. I was feeling good and optimistic about a strong finish. We hit the initial sections of dirt in a strong clip and Dr. Hodges admitted to feeling a bit knackered and suggested I go on ahead. He couldn’t follow any strong pushes now. I thought about it but decided to finish with him. I had nothing to gain by being a few minutes ahead of him so we continued on. We caught the Girls (peeing again, I believe) and descended to the bottom of the hill. They caught us up on the climb and everyone was friendly about it. They were getting to be old friends at this point. They must have stopped again for some reason because we caught them just as it started to flatten out in a faster section of the course. I spotted Sam ahead just after passing them.

I accelerated up to Sam to see what happened and could tell immediately that he was struggling with The Bonk. He said something about being surprised we had caught him then mentioned he probably hadn’t eaten enough. He looked confused and pale and his eyes were almost rolling in their sockets. I offered him a GU which he accepted and then I was off the front, hammering to put some distance between us.

I don’t know who this guy is, but he sure is having fun!

I was ahead of the Girls, Sam and Dr. Hodges. I was the first of my friends on the course – in my mind it became a Stage Win that I was after. I doubled-down on GUs and sucked at Perpetuem to keep myself from bonking and forced my legs to go harder. I spotted a rider ahead of me and made it my goal to catch him on the next hill. I did that and then spotted another rider and another.

I caught a rider just as we were leaving the Preserve and dirt trails for good. The only thing ahead of us was the 3 or 4 miles of pavement back to the Start/Finish line. We had to dismount to get through the gate and I made sure to use a cyclocross move to get going again faster than him. He said something like, “Well, I hope you’re good on the road” and I thought to myself, “Actually, yes, I rather do enjoy the pave…” I hammered it hard to keep a gap to him, but never really looked back either.

Completely wiped out, but very happy after the race.

My legs were searing, on the verge of cramping up. I was dead tired. Salt encrusted, sticky from GU and Perpetuem, I had been on the bike for NINE solid hours. I was scared shitless that a revived Sam would chase me down in these last miles so I kept the pressure on, not believing that I could stay away. And that’s when it hit me…

I absolutely love this shit.

I got pretty emotional at this point. After all the hard work, long hours and endless miles of training. All the energy and preparation, it was really worth it. I was doing something that was extraordinarily hard and I was doing it well.

I wiped the tears away and continued to hammer back to Julian. I finished the Julian Death March in 9:27:10 in 18th place overall, 7th place in my age group. Of the 80 riders who began the day, only 28 would finish the entire course.

Good night, Julian. Thanks for a great race!

When the shotgun goes off this Saturday morning signaling the start of the Leadville 100, I’ll roll out all alone in a sea of 1,500 other racers. I will pedal the fifty miles to the top of Columbine Mine and the fifty miles back all by myself. No one but me will push my bike up the Powerline. No one but me will turn those pedals over to get me to the finish line. It’s easy to think I’m in this alone, but really, that’s just an illusion.

I do not ride alone.

Karydes got the ball rolling way back in 2006 by inviting me to train for and ride our first century together, the MS 150. The team we organized for that ride (Team Climb On!) has raised over $50,000 in the fight against MS since then. Oh, and we completed the ride in style…

In 2007 alone, Team Climb On! raised over $22,000 for the National MS Society.

Dr. Hodges, Alpha Dave and the rest of the Mighty Descenders showed me what riding hard was really all about. Getting invited to their Monster Climbs trip in 2008 was a breakthrough experience. Suddenly, I could pedal all day, up mountains and down.

Horseshoe Meadow Road climbs 5,000 feet out of Lone Pine. Amazing.

The Mighty Descenders at Monster Climbs II

Marcos kicked it up a notch by suggesting that I race – “You should race, you’ll do great.” Suddenly it was all possible and we began cycling at a whole new level. Later he’d remark that we should, “Mix it up a bit to keep it fresh, maybe do some MTB rides.” That would be how I started MTB racing and entered my name into the 2009 Leadville lottery.

Marcos and Dr. Hodges racing the 2009 Julian Death March.

After winning last year’s Leadville lottery, I was terrified – what had I gotten myself into?!?! Having DMoz crew for me and Bazza and Daphne join me at the race made it all possible. Their support and encouragement sped me along my race and helped me finish strong. I’m very much looking forward to sharing this beautiful race with my wife and kids this year.

Bazza took this photo of me racing inbound on the new singletrack at last year’s Leadville 100.

Racing Julian Death March this year was crucial to my Leadville training plan. Riding alongside guys like Mickey, Dr. Hodges and Sam taught me what “Never quit!” really means. I’ll never forget watching Sam struggle against The Bonk without giving in and how Mickey finished his JDM within minutes of the final cutoff because he just wouldn’t quit – no matter what. I could not have done as well as I did without these guys.

Sam, Dr. Hodges, Mickey and I at this year’s Julian Death March. I’ll never forget this day!

Having training partners, nah… having Dirt Bros like Marcos, Mickey and Karydes have allowed me to take ultra-endurance cycling to a new level. Heading out into the pouring rain for a 40-mile MTB ride with 5,000 feet of climbing is a great way to get strong. I can always count on a hard ride and “never give up attitude” every weekend. The way we encourage each other to go hard and push our boundaries makes us all stronger.

The Dirt Bros make their way down a cold and snowy trail to climb the infamous Oriflamme Canyon.

Two of my Dirt Bros, Mickey and Marcos enjoying a recovery bevvie in Cuyamaca.

And of course, the Family… Always there, supporting me to ride countless hours even to the point of organizing our vacation calendar around cycling events. Putting up with stinky kit hanging from the banister and a sore, sleepy Dad every Saturday afternoon.

My Girls cheering me on!

When I finally roll back onto 6th Avenue, at mile 103.5 on Saturday, I’ll be thinking about all the people who helped make this day happen. Thank you.

The 2009 Leadville 100 gets underway on a shotgun blast. By Bazza.

I finished the 2009 Leadville Trail 100 mountain bike race in 11 hours and 24 minutes, and I have to say I am rather proud of that. This 100-mile MTB race is aptly nicknamed “Race Across the Sky” for starting above 10,000’ and topping out well over 12,000’. It took everything I had to finish under the cutoff and earn my Silver Buckle.

My 2009 Leadville 100 Silver Buckle wants a little brother. I’ll do my best to deliver.

This year, I want to go faster. I’ve thought long and hard about what I want to accomplish this year, and since I’m one of those “you gotta say it to create it” kind of guys, here it is…

I will finish the 2010 Leadville 100 an hour faster than last year.

Yes, finding 60 minutes on the Leadville course will be difficult. And, just saying so doesn’t make it happen, but I do have a secret plan. And since my plan is secret I’ll share it with you here. Just don’t tell anyone else, especially Lance – ok?

A Year’s Training

After winning the race lottery last year, I hired a coach to help me train. We had just enough time to work together for me to fully understand the benefit of coaching. This year I have a whole additional season of training under my belt and I have data to prove that I’m faster and stronger this year.

I’m confident that training with CTS helped me earn my Silver Buckle last year.

Data is a big part of my training regimen and all indicators are up. My long-term endurance power is higher and much longer. My short burst power is also higher and I’m able to recover and go again faster and more often than last year.

I’ve also raced a few key endurance events this year that point to success. I finished the 86-mile, 12,000’ Julian Death March this year when last year I bailed at mile 62. I also finished this years’ Triple Bypass an hour faster than last year.

After crunching all these numbers, I am confident that my training this year will take 23 minutes off my Leadville time.

Pacing and Experience

Hey, I’ve “been there and done that.” Experience is a huge advantage and even though I was able to preview the course last year, nothing could prepare me for racing over 11 hours in the Rocky Mountains. And previewing the course again this year was a great opportunity to refine my ideas and approach to racing Leadville.

One of the biggest breakthroughs that came from my preview trip last month was about how to properly pace the two hardest climbs, Columbine and Powerline. Instead of trying to hammer these climbs (and then explode), I’m going to set a reasonable pace to stay moving and feeling good. I’ll spin over the top quietly instead of trying to “stamp my authority” on these vicious climbs.

The infamous Powerline.

Between my experience on course and new approach to pacing and nutrition, I’m sure I can steal back 19 minutes over last years’ time.

My Racing Machine

Last year I raced a 2007 Santa Cruz Blur LT which is a very sturdy and capable all-mountain bike. With an aluminum frame and up to 160mm of travel, it was a solid and totally inappropriate racing platform for Leadville. My Santa Cruz was for sale within hours of finishing Leadville.

Searching for a new bike to race Leadville, I looked no further than the winner’s bike. Sure, I considered a lot options, but in the end, the Trek Top Fuel won out for being super light and rigid with a gruppo made for XC racing. I love the fact that it’s a 10-speed double instead of a 9-speed triple. And being an easy 6 pounds lighter than my Santa Cruz, it is super responsive and climbs like a goat.

My Trek Top Fuel 9.9 SSL doing what it does best – looking good.

Many say that a full-travel bike is not the way to go at Leadville, but I really appreciate the ability to climb smoothly while sitting and being able to hammer the bumps without hovering over the saddle wasting my legs. I firmly believe that modern suspension systems have effectively minimized power loss from the “bounce” and more than make up for it with better traction, handling and more comfortable ride.

I’m confident that my new racing machine will save me 12 minutes this year.

Friends and Family

I had a fantastic support crew last year headed by my longtime friend DMoz. Having a dedicated crew chief at the start and Twin Lakes gave me the support, confidence and encouragement I needed to finish the race last year. I also traveled to Leadville with my dear friends Bazza and Daphne who roamed the race course shooting some really great photos of me and the event. It made all the difference in the world to have such great friends supporting me in the days before and during the race.

The great news this year is that they are coming back with me to Leadville to help me race again. And as a bonus, my wife and kids will be there as well. It’s going to be a huge boost to have my family with me, both in motivation to do well and excitement to share this beautiful race. I’m looking forward to seeing my family at the finish line – and how cool would it be to pull off what Wiens did last year – cross the finish line with my kids? Outstanding!

Dave Wiens finishing the 2009 Leadville 100 with his boys. Photo courtesy DavidWiens.com & Kurt Hoy/singletrack.com.

How much faster will I go having the best support crew in the world and my family by my side? I’m convinced exactly 6 minutes faster.

My Secret Plan

So that’s the secret plan I’ve been developing all year long. I’ve shaved exactly 60 minutes off my Leadville time. All that’s left to do now is race. See you in Leadville, look out for #126!

I was not going to preview the Leadville 100 course this year. I mean, I previewed it last July and raced it in August so I thought I had a pretty good grasp of what to expect. But when Marcos finally got his “Yippee!” card, it became a must-do event. Since we were already scheduled to ride the Triple Bypass in July, it made sense to head to Leadville and extend that trip a couple of days.

Mickey, Cecil, Marcos and Arlyn at Zichittella’s in Leadville.

Getting an idea of what to expect on race day will be a huge advantage for Marcos and I went along if just to share my experiences and maybe have the most epic bike trip ever with my Dirt Bros. I accomplished all that and still got something very valuable.

The Leadville Trail 100 MTB race is really hard.

The human mind has a funny way of forgetting the suffering and focusing on the glory. Over the past year, the Leadville course (in my mind) has gotten easier and easier, almost to the point of becoming “just a tough day in the saddle.” Our trip to Leadville two weeks ago was a much needed wake-up call.

Leadville is hard, not just because of the distance (103.4 miles) and not just because of the climbing (10,938’ by my Garmin). It’s hard because of the distance and the climbing and most importantly, because of the elevation. It’s hard to explain what it’s like to ride hard above 10,000’, especially for a flatlander like me – I can smell the ocean from my house!

I did not arrive in Leadville with the freshest legs, having ridden the Triple Bypass as hard as I could the day before. We started out early the next morning to ride the first and last 25 miles of the course, from 6th and Harrison to the bottom of the Powerline and back. The idea was to get as much of the 50 miles and 5,500’ of climbing in before the inevitable afternoon thunderstorm attacked. It can get pretty crazy at 11,000’ in the Rockies during a thunderstorm, even in July.

Mickey and Marcos approaching the St Kevins climb.

My legs felt pretty good as we rolled down 6th Avenue, from the race’s Start/Finish line. We took it easy on the early dirt roads and I pointed out where the cows were in the opening scenes of “Race Across the Sky”. We settled into a steady rhythm up St. Kevins where a pattern emerged that would often repeat itself on the two-day course preview. Mickey goes off the front with Marcos hanging on for as long as he can while I sit up and let them go. We’d arrive at the top, not far from each other, but almost always in that 1-2-3 order.

The course on Kevins was in really good condition. I remembered it being a lot more cut up last July. It should be super smooth by race day next month after hundreds more riders preview the course. We rounded the big left on St. Kevins and waited a few minutes for Cecil who was struggling with the impact of cycling at high altitude. We were already well above 10,000’.

We descended Turquoise Lake Road and the climb to Sugarloaf Pass went easily in the same 1-2-3 pattern. I was content with being third and had joked earlier that we would be awarding reverse-KOM points for the trip. You get more points for being last than first. It was my goal to get that reverse polka-dot jersey.

The Dirt Bros on Turquoise Lake Road.

I was riding a bike rented from the guys at Cycles of Life which I have to say might be the coolest bike shop ever. Brian was super helpful outfitting us and I was excited to try the hardtail 29’er I rented. Many people claim that a hardtail 29’er is the best riding platform for the Leadville 100 and I’ve been wondering if I could go faster on one. I quickly learned that the answer was a definite, “No.” Sure the hardtail was stiffer on climbs, which might translate to a small amount of additional power transfer, but it also required a LOT more control, even on relatively smooth sections. Getting bumped out of the saddle is not good on a long climb. And the descents are terrible compared to my full-travel bike. Maybe I just don’t have the proper bike-handling skills, but descending on a hardtail takes a lot more energy and focus. My legs got sore from holding myself off the saddle – on my Trek I can recover, sitting on the saddle as I descend. It was good to discover all this before buying a hardtail and regretting it later…

Looking up the Powerline with Marcos and Mickey walking.

We started down the Powerline and I remembered cold rain, buzzing transformers and acrid smell of brake pads from the race last year. We were lucky to be descending in warm sunshine. Even though I was careful on the descent, I still got “rutted out”, having to stop and walk my bike laterally to a new line. It was a good reminder to take my time and parse the trail for the best line. I certainly won’t win Leadville on this descent, but I sure could lose it by endo’ing into one of these caverns.

We stopped at the bottom to discuss race-day bridge strategies for the creek. Last year, a lot of fans shouted at racers to try and ride the creek, I just don’t think it’s a good idea to rinse your drivetrain and risk falling in the water at mile 25 of a 100 mile race. I showed Marcos the “alternate” bridge in case there is a backup on the planked crossing then we turned around to go back up the Powerline.

On race day last year, I had been exuberant at the bottom of the Powerline and charged up the lower sections only to blow up when it got steep and then freak out cause I was going so slow in the hike-a-bike section. Once the grade settled, I pushed too hard and blew up again on the upper parts because I hadn’t eaten properly. This year, I settled into a steady pace and walked the hike-a-bike at a normal clip. Again I let Mickey and Marcos go up the trail ahead of me. As a result, I climbed faster than race day and felt much, much better at the top. Last year, I was blown at the top of the Powerline and didn’t fully recover until the final Aid Station on St. Kevins. This year, I felt great and set a much faster pace back up Turquoise Lake Road, gaining time. I’d learned a valuable lesson – pacing and proper nutrition make the day.

At the bottom of the Powerline. The hard part is still ahead.

Soon we were back on St. Kevins again and I remembered hammering these final miles of the race last year. I was really wishing I had my Trek with me instead of the lumpy hardtail as I picked my way down. I caught up with Marcos and Mickey on the fire roads and I guided them to the Boulevard climb – that final kick in the ass at mile 100 when you’re still over three miles from the finish. It seemed a lot easier this year, but still fairly loose and rocky. Last year, I rode past many who were walking their bike and I vowed ride it this year again.

The final gravel roads back into Leadville are much longer than you’d expect and I had trouble holding Mickey back. That kid is on terrific form. Finally, we made the last right turn onto the pavement of 6th Avenue and rolled together to the finish line. I could see in my mind the hundreds of fans and the cheers from the crowds from last year’s race – I really can’t wait to be on that last half mile again this year.

Enjoying a delicious High Mountain Pie.

After an evening of focused recovery that included a delicious High Mountain Pie, some vino and a few beers, I found myself staring at the Fruit Loops in the breakfast room of the Super 8 – ah, what the heck. After kitting up, we drove out to Twin Lakes at the base of the Columbine climb and discussed feed zone strategy before saddling up and heading towards the high country again.

Letting Marcos and Mickey go up the road to Columbine Mine.

Based on what I had learned on the Powerline, I refined my strategy for the penultimate climb on the Leadville course. I will not attack Columbine, I will sneak by. It won’t even know I was there. I paced myself evenly, letting Mickey and Marcos go up the road, focusing on eating at regular intervals and not over-exerting on the steeper sections. I walked the steep, loose sections without worrying about losing time or falling back. The higher I climbed, the better I felt instead of bonking and needing to rest like last year. I ignored the voice in my head that said I was going too slow and instead slowly ate a GU and kept my hydration on track. In the end I climbed Columbine 5 minutes faster this year AND felt much better. All this after two really hard days in the mountains.

The view from Columbine Mine.

Miraculously, I arrived at the high point of 12,600’ on the Leadville course first. I came to a stop and turned back to see where Mickey and Marcos were. Small, colored dots in the distance told me they had taken the bonus spur on the GPS course I had loaned them to a spectacular overlook of Twin Lakes over 3,500 feet below. I waited a few minutes while their dots grew back into life-sized mountain bikers and then we rolled down to the turnaround point of the Leadville 100 MTB course together.

Dirt Bros on Columbine.

After rolling into the Columbine Mine turnaround point, Marcos, Mickey and I all stopped and got off our bikes. Marcos’ comment summed it up, “That was really hard.” Yeah, got it.

It was raining lightly as I dove into the sharp right hand turn under an overpass at mile 113. My tires struggled vainly to maintain purchase with the slick pavement and when they finally let go it was sudden and violent. I slammed into the pavement and began a long slide, finally coming to a halt 10 meters later.

My primary concern as I lay there on the ground was that Mickey was going to catch me and take the “Stage Win”. I had dropped him just minutes earlier on the run-in from Vail Pass where I somehow got max KOM points.

I was riding the Triple Bypass as hard as I could because I had something to prove. With the Leadville Trail 100 MTB race just over a month away it was time to give my fitness a real test. A 120-mile road ride to 11,000’ over three gigantic Rocky Mountain Passes seemed like just the thing.

Note: The Triple Bypass is a 120-mile road ride through the Colorado Rockies over three distinct mountain passes; Juniper Pass (11,140’), Loveland Pass (11,990’) and Vail Pass (10,560’). In total there is well over 10,000’ of climbing for the day at some serious altitude.

To be honest, coming into the Triple Bypass I was freaking out a little bit. I desperately needed to know I was on track – I needed to know that the innumerable hours and miles I was putting in on the bike were paying off. For the last several weeks my power levels had been off target. I had been struggling to achieve basic intervals and self-doubt was getting hard to control – was everything ok? Do I have the legs to even finish Leadville this year? What was going on?

DMoz, Marcos, Mickey, Arlyn, Ajay and Karydes from Team Climb On! Missing are Cecil and Erik.

The “race” began right at Kilometer Zero as my buddy Mickey separated from our group of eight friends to draft on a slightly faster rider. I knew that if I didn’t follow him, I’d never see him again so I went too. I was putting in exactly the right effort as rider number three in our group and we began the first climb over Juniper Pass to Echo Lake.

Gaining just 2,585’ over 13 miles meant I could spin easily upward as the altimeter quickly approached 11,000’. Within a few miles, Mickey and his lead-out man picked up the pace and I let them go, wary of blowing up to soon. As I watched them pace out of sight, I figured I wouldn’t see him again until the finish line. It was hard to think straight above 10,000’ and my power dropped by at least 10%. I focused on setting an even rhythm and eating on schedule to avoid The Bonk.

At some point, DMoz passed me. This guy is skinny enough for concern and just completed Ride the Rockies in great form. Combine that with the fact he lives at elevation and now you’ll understand how frustrating it is to have him pass you chatting the whole way. I watched him go figuring I’d never see him again either. He managed to beat Mickey to the top taking max KOM points for himself.

Some lake on the Triple Bypass course – sorry, I wasn’t paying much attention!

Skipping the Aid Station at Echo Lake, I tipped my bike over and began speeding downhill towards Idaho Springs at 50mph in some sections. The speed and roads were exhilarating, the inexperienced descenders were not. I warily passed many cyclists who need someone to show them how to keep a line through a corner.

Marcos caught me on the outskirts of Georgetown, at the base of the second pass where I was planning to stop at the Aid Station. We stopped together and chatted while we filled up bottles. I was a bit nervous because he looked strong and I really wanted to maintain my current 3rd place among the team. I mean, a podium is a podium, right?

DMoz caught up to us while we were stopped causing a brief moment of confusion. We thought he was ahead of us. I guess we rocketed downhill past him. Unfortunately, 140lb guys just don’t go downhill as fast at 195lb guys… He took off a few minutes ahead of us and again I figured that would be the last time I saw him.
After a 14-minute stop, we were off again across a 2-mile stretch of gravel road. Many riders were unnerved by the rocks, gravel and potholes, but for some reason reveled in it. After a little while I no longer heard Marcos behind me and figured he had slowed up to do his own pace. Smart. On a ride like the Triple Bypass, you have to ride your own pace. 120 miles is a loooong way to go.

The road tilted upwards, but never very sharply as we climbed towards Loveland Pass. At 11,990‘, this would be the high point of the day. Again, the extreme elevation took its toll on me and I began to dream/hallucinate the strangest things. I forced myself to eat and set an easy, steady pace as I got higher and higher. At some point on US-6, above 11,000’, I decided that it was more comfortable to pedal with my eyes closed. Of course, as I was passing a cyclist every few minutes, this was a bit of a hazard. Somehow I worked it out.

My trick to achieving long climbs is to watch my altimeter. If I know where the top is, I can have a little party in my head every 100 feet – “Yeah! Only 2,300 feet to go! Heck, it’s actually even LESS THAN 2,300 feet now!”

Karydes and Ajay on the Continental Divide at Loveland Pass

Eventually I reached Loveland Pass and rather than stop to shoot a photo of the sign, I bombed the descent directly. Again, speeds near 50mph were the order of the day as I shot down to warmer and slightly thicker air. Along the way I saw and passed DMoz again. This time I shouted as I went past. Technically, I was in second place – I thought he’d catch me on the final climb over Vail Pass, but it began to seem likely for me to catch him on the final descent into Avon. The second step of the podium sure seemed nicer than the third…

DMoz and I stopped at the school in Frisco and refilled bottles, chatting about our experiences so far. He left first as I searched for the porta-potties.

The elevation at the Aid Station was around 9,000’ and with Vail Pass only 10,500’, I knew this would be a relatively shallow climb over 12 miles. I was feeling really good as I left the Aid Station and decided to up my tempo a bit to see what was in the tank. If I blew up on the last climb, no problem.

I quickly caught DMoz on the lower parts of the climb. He started grumbling about my quicker pace and fell off a bit. We started to get sprinkled on and he passed me when I stopped to put on my vest, but I passed him back when he did the same.
I was going up and up on the bike trail now, passing other riders at a healthy clip. It was a bit dodgy as the trail was only really wide enough for three across (both directions) and there was a lot of blind turns. For some reason, many riders rode the centerline, making it dangerous to pass them. Maybe they were entranced by the yellow line or something, but it was a bit annoying.

One woman I passed had a radio blaring music in her jersey pocket. She stepped up her pace and passed me back, with “The Love Shack” going the whole time. I got perturbed and passed her again, but she hung onto my back wheel with some other top-40 drivel blasting out. I think they invented earbuds just for her. Feeling quite good now, I picked up the pace even more until I could no longer hear her.

Colorado was in full beauty for the race – and the weather was near perfect!

Rounding some corners near the top of Vail Pass I sighted a rider I recognized. Could that be Mickey? He had stopped, but was getting back on and pedaling again. I furiously chased and yes, it was Mickey! Instantly, I saw how I would beat him to the top of Vail Pass and then hammer alone to the finish. There was a slim chance it would work. I slowed as I passed him and asked if everything was ok. I got an unintelligible reply and took off for the top of the Pass, just about a half mile up. Later I found out he had no real idea where the top was and was just following me up. It was a bit confusing at the top and I made the mistake of going through the parking lot instead of straight to the top. Suddenly, I saw Mickey in front of me, just meters from the top and had to all-out sprint to get there first. Mickey gave me a funny look and asked, “Is this the top?”

We began coasting downhill together toward the finish, just 25 miles away. I asked him if we would share the top step or fight it out. Mickey had that twinkle in his eyes but admitted he didn’t have the legs to chase now. He was going to let me do all the pulling. Fine and fine.

We rocketed down the initial steep sections of bike path like two fighter jets, Mickey right on my wheel. He later told me it was one of the best descents of his life and I have to agree. We flew down the curvy bike path cooking some corners a bit too hot and diving into holes between riders to pass.

I had racing fever as we hammered the final miles into Avon. We picked up another rider who was willing to work and I started trading 30-second pulls with him. While in the draft I calculated how fast we’d have to go for me to take an hour off of last years’ time of 9:20. It began to seem possible.

At some point Mickey came to the front and did a terrific pull. I was next and knew what would happen – he went right off the back after his amazing effort. I kept the watts up, not waiting. The top step of the podium would be mine alone. Sorry, buddy. Down and down we went, rocketing through the roundabouts in Vail while the State Police stopped traffic for us.

Back on the bike path, we traded a few more pulls. With my turn over, I rested, knowing I only had a few seconds until it was my turn again. I looked up and saw bike path bend into the tunnel and prepared for a hard turn.

And that’s how I found myself sliding across the pavement wondering how far back Mickey was.

My collarbone was not broken. My arms were not broken. I had almost no pain – the rash hurts later. I checked for blood and even the rash didn’t look so bad. Something was wrong with my bike, but I couldn’t figure out what. It didn’t go or something. I told my new friend to go on without me – I was fine. He cruised on and I got back on my bike trying to figure it out. I really didn’t want Mickey to catch me – how stupid would that be? But there was some kind of odd clicking sound – I shifted and it went away. Perfect!

I cranked it up again and caught my friend, explaining everything was fine now. We started trading pulls again and I made sure mine were long and fast. I had a bit of a deficit to make up in order to keep to my schedule of arriving an hour faster. Suddenly, the finish line loomed in front of us. We had both set new PRs for the Triple and congratulated each other.

I came to a halt all by myself in the midst of a huge crowd, breathing hard, sweat dripping off me, feeling the sting of the fresh road rash and ache in my legs after a 120-mile ride through the mountains and let it all sink in…

Leadville, here I come!

Team Climb On! Race Results

Cyclocross is cool because the race course has such varied terrain – grass, pavement, sometimes mud and usually a little sand. This was not the case at yesterday’s race. The second race in the SoCalCross Prestige Series was held at a motorcross park way out east in the desert.

This is an example of what normally goes on at the MX park. You could see motorcycles flying into the air in the distance as we raced.

As we lined up, the race official announced, “Course conditions are sand, sand and more sand with a little wet sand thrown in just to mix it up.” He was unfortunately not joking.

He blew his whistle to start the race and took off with 14 other Cat 4 racers. I counted myself in 9th place going around the first turn and felt pretty good. I settled into my rhythm for the first lap, trying to focus on my dismount/remount form. I wanted to be smooth which was really hard in the sand.

I learned pretty quickly that a good Cross racer can push himself right up to the razor’s edge of his Red Zone without going 1 millimeter over – unless he really needs to, of course. My average heart rate for the race was 92% of max – that’s average! I hit max HR several times, probably in the running sections.

Can you see me? Carmichael kit and not looking at the camera – doh!

My only crash happened right away. Entering the first section of barriers I didn’t unclip my back foot before I stepped down which resulted in me face planting just short of the first barrier. I think I made some sort of sound and a clear “Oh!” was heard from the small crowd. I never stopped moving though, just picked up the bike and ran through the barriers.

Completing the first lap, I passed through the finish area where a race official was waving a cowbell at us. In my oxygen-depraved mind, I translated this to mean we were starting the bell lap – this would be the final lap. I was still feeling pretty good so I hammered the second lap, passing several racers. I even shouted encouragements to some guys who seemed to be going a lot slower that they should, especially for being on the final lap. Boy was I surprised when I completed the second lap and saw the official holding a sign saying “2 laps to go!” Turns out she had just been encouraging us along; I was dangerously close to my Red Zone and only halfway done! Zoinks!

I settled down and focused on recovering a little, which means I probably slowed down to 88% of max or so. I got passed by two or three racers and as soon as I got my breathing under control, I cranked it back up again, intent on catching them.

There are a lot of technical skills for racing Cross like how to smoothly dismount and remount your bike so you can jump over barriers, for example. I passed one guy who stopped to clip in while I just rolled on, clipping and rolling at the same time. That felt good. With the sand, it was really hard to focus on form though because the bike would stop rolling as soon as you stopped pedaling.

Racing Cross is very exciting. There’s always some near-disaster to attend to. Here’s how a section of the course might have gone:

Back on the bike, clip in and roll down this super steep section – sharp left turn at the bottom in deep sand, don’t crash! Ok, max power! Here comes a steep moto-jump, I can make it, lowest gear… Bike slipping in the sand – over the top! Pick up speed, into that hairpin, more deep sand – screw it, let’s just run – off the bike, carry, run, run, running is hard! Put the bike down, swing on – clip and full speed! Someone is right behind me! Here come the barriers, coast in… Off the bike, over the barriers – one, two! Bike down, swing on, clip and accelerate!

I focused on catching the guy in front of me, trying to make every action smooth and carry as much momentum as possible. If I caught the guy, I’d pick the next guy. Sometimes I got passed and at some point I realized I was catching guys in the single-speed group who were racing on the course at the same time as us. Poor bastards, at least I could shift down.

Racers struggle for traction on a deep course.

The final lap went very smooth, but I was very ready for the race to be over. I crossed the line in 9th place – solidly in the middle of the pack. For my first race, in a sandlot – I’ll take it.

Next Sunday’s race is in Irvine and lots of other racers commented on what a great course it is. I can’t wait.

I couldn’t stop staring at the cover of Velonews. The February 2009 edition had just been tossed in front of my while I sat munching a sandwich in my kitchen. The cover depicted a wet, slimy, muddy and yet intensely focused cyclist – I was completely captivated. What crazy sport was this? Cyclocross – what’s that? Road bikes in the mud? That’s just crazy.

February 2009 cover of Velonews – it started everything. Courtesy VeloNews

Although… That guy is really having a good time. I wonder what it would be like to race cyclocross…

So, after the glow of Leadville was fading and Coach Colin suggested I look into the cyclocross scene, I said, “Hey, that’s a great idea.” Only, I didn’t have a CX bike, people to ride with or the faintest idea of how the sport really works. But still, I thought about that guy in the Velonews cover.

Why are all thos guys running with their bikes? CC amanaplanacanalpanama on Flickr

My two closest riding partners both have road, mountain and track bikes. I tried in vain to piqué their interest in giving CX a try. Nope. I can’t get the Descenders to get on their mountain bikes, much less give Cross a second thought. I signed up for a local cyclocross clinic and made myself go even though I didn’t want to after my buddy bailed on me.

I hope my bike gets this muddy someday. CC gzahnd on Flickr

The clinic (put on by SoCalCross) was perfect. I was able to borrow a Cross bike and spent some time learning how to get on and off the bike – yeah, I thought I knew that already too. Getting on and off fluidly is important as you run up stairs, jump barriers, etc. It’s key to keep your momentum going and not actually stop.

Cyclocross loves lots of sharp corners. CC coda2 on Flickr

We practiced carrying our bikes and running up hills with a bike on our backs – then it was time for a few practice laps. They had set up a micro-course around the soccer field and we toured it twice to get a feel for the barriers, sharp turns, run-ups, etc. My favorite feature was a 90-degree turn at the bottom of a steep hill.

Mud, snow and look at that face – what more could you want? CC static-photo on Flickr

After the second practice lap, we re-grouped for a mini-race. We lined up, someone yelled go and we were off. I was immediately “Game On!” – completely electric as we hit the first turns. I’m familiar with criterium racing so I tried to stay in the lead group. We got to my favorite turn and I became convinced it would be impossible to make the 90-degree turn at speed. I had to decide whether to overcook the corner and roll off the course or just go for it. I decided that crashing wouldn’t be so bad on grass so I just turned as hard as I could, in a pack of 6 or 7 guys (and a few gals). I made the turn, but fell back a little.

This guy is about to win, can’t you tell? Courtesy Ben Ross Photography.

The second race lap was more fluid although I really screwed the barriers up and had to hammer like hell to get back to the leaders. It all got strung out in the last bits, but I finished somewhere in the top third, I’m sure.

I really wish it rained more in Southern California. CC rcousine on Flickr

Can you tell I had fun? It was a BLAST! Cyclocross is the sport you’d pick if you were nine years old. It would go something like, “Road races makes baseball look fun and forget about the track – please, round and round all day? Mountain biking sounds kinda cool, but what about those guys over there playing in the mud and jumping fences with their bikes? I wanna do that!”

ONly a 9-year-old mind would want to race like this. CC spicybear on Flickr

While joining by buddies on the track would be practical, I just had no passion for it – I had to make cyclocross happen. And I did. In short order, I got a great deal on a Cross bike, connected with several local CX racers and got invited to a weekly local Cross workout. And now I have 6 CX races on my calendar between here and December.

My brand new Fuji Cross Pro. Let the races begin!

My first cyclocross race is Sunday, wish me luck!

The shotgun went off about a half second early. The blast surprised me as I counted down the last 10 seconds to the start of this year’s Leadville Trail 100 MTB race along with 1,232 other riders. I half-expected to start moving at the sound of the gun, but with about 800 riders in front of me, I was going nowhere until they did.

Me at the start. I was so amped. Courtesy Dave Mozealous

The pause gave me time for a little joke – I exclaimed, “There goes Lance and Dave!” as we all stood there, waiting for the gaggle of riders ahead to get moving. No one laughed, but I did imagine that Dave Wiens and Lance Armstrong were rolling down 6th Avenue in downtown Leadville, even though I couldn’t see them.

A shotgun triggers the start – 1,232 riders begin the 2009 Leadville Trail 100 MTB.
© 2009 Barry Munson. All rights reserved.

The first few miles of the race are neutralized and we sped downhill and out of Leadville proper. I was amazed at how composed and fluid the peloton was with so many riders. Only a few people bothered trying to move up – with so many riders, how far could you get? The race would be decided on the climbs anyway, not here.

As we descended from town, the most magnificent rainbow I’ve ever seen appeared over the mountains ahead. I’ve honestly never seen a rainbow that was as colorful and distinct. I took it as a good racing omen. “Wow, I’m actually racing the Leadville 100!” I thought to myself.

What a beautiful rainbow – and a great omen for the race ahead.
© 2009 Barry Munson. All rights reserved.

We made the right turn onto a dirt road and the racing began. You could feel the energy of the group double as we began to string out, approaching the first big climb of the day, St. Kevin (pronounced “Saint Key-vin”).

The brakes came on at the base of the climb as riders slowed and engaged hill. We bunched up with two clear lines forming and an occasional walker to the right or left. The trail was a lot smoother than when I previewed it in July, probably because of the recent rain and the 700 riders ahead of me. I settled into an easy rhythm. My legs felt great and wanted to go faster, but my HR monitor said I was doing exactly right so I didn’t bother trying to pass anybody.

Wow, that’s really lumpy.

Significant climbs of the Leadville Trail 100 MTB
St. Kevin: 1,191 feet in 4.2 miles
Sugarloaf: 1,017 feet in 5.2 miles
Columbine Mine: 3,179 feet in 10 miles
Powerline: 1,378 feet in 3.9 miles
St. Kevin (backside): 715 feet in 3.3 miles

I was expecting carnage on this first hill with so many amped up riders trying to get up a narrow, steep climb. A few riders were frustrated by the slow pace and I remembered some advice to tell jokes or sing a song to get the group to settle down, avoiding hot tempers and crashes. I said loudly, “So a guy walks into a bar naked with an iguana under his arm…” and received several chuckles. The shouting up front seemed to stop too. I don’t really know the end of the joke; I made it up on the fly.

As we continued climbing as it began to rain gently. The rain made me nervous. Every day for the last 10,000 years, the same pattern has repeated itself in the Rocky Mountains – mornings are cold and clear, leading to much sunshine and at sometime between noon and 4pm a thunderstorm rolls through bringing anything from light rain to hail and snow. All my wet weather gear was with Dave, my crew chief, at the Twin Lakes aid station, 35 miles ahead of me. All I had with me was my vest and arm warmers to ward off the morning chill. Cold rain slowly soaked me head-to-toe.

The rain spared no one. Lance and his posse descending towards the Sugarloaf climb.
© 2009 Barry Munson. All rights reserved.

We made the left turn where St. Kevin’s grade lets up and the speed increased as we motored on smoother trails towards the summit. The trail was getting really wet and I removed my sunglasses because of mud and fogging issues. Now I had to blink every couple of minutes to keep the mud out of my eyes. We descended the bit past the first aid station (I didn’t stop), made the sharp right hand turn onto the road and immediately kicked up the speed to 35mph. This is when being soaking wet in 30-something degree air becomes a problem. Down and down we sped as I lost all feeling in both feet and both hands. I could tell I was braking only when the bike slowed down. I began to shiver uncontrollably.

This was the hardest part of the race for me. I dug deep.© 2009 Barry Munson. All rights reserved.

At the rider briefing the day before, Ken Chlouber, Leadville Trail organizer made the point that Leadville was about digging deep and not giving up. He rallied everyone to stand and declare to not quit – no matter what. I looked down at my odometer – a paltry 14 miles in, 89 miles to go. Shivering, numb and soaking wet, I was surprised to have gotten so quickly to wondering whether I could finish or not. If I was digging this deep at mile 14, what would it be like at 67 or at 83? I resolved keep pedaling and worry about all this later.

The road finally flattened out, we made a right turn onto a nice smooth fire road and began the Sugarloaf climb. I couldn’t climb fast enough to keep warm and other riders streamed past me. I shivered and ticked the pedals over, but without much result. I told myself I was racing my race and to just let everyone go. Up and up I went. I knew the top was around 11,000 feet and my altimeter only begrudgingly recorded my elevation gain.

It’s times like this where you just have to settle into yourself and ignore all the warning signs. Get in your head, go to your “happy place”, whatever works. Just keep pedaling and everything will work itself out. In a bit of a stupor, I looked up and recognized I had summited Sugarloaf. Nice.

Every Leadville race finisher receives a medal from Merilee at the finish line. Those who finish under 12 hours receive a small silver belt buckle. Hard men (and women) who finish under 9 hours receive a much larger gold belt buckle.

Only 128 riders finished under 9 hours this year out of 1,232 at the starting line.

The overhead power lines crackled sharply in the rain as the trail tipped down. It sounded like man-made lightning and I wondered if this was normal – one more thing to not think about. The Powerline descent is fast and technical down a rutted and now very muddy trail. It’s the kind of descent where it’s impossible to stop; you just have to focus on nailing the line and not going over the bars.

As I sped downhill, picking up speed, I began to smell hundreds of hot brake pads – apparently I wasn’t the only one taking it easy down Powerline. As they say, you can only lose Leadville on the downhills. I picked my way down the line as fast as it felt comfortable amid a giant cloud of asbestos pad fumes. Do they use asbestos for MTB brakes?

I made it down and crossed the creek on the 2-plank bridge, ignoring calls from the mass of spectators to ride through the 18-inches of water. The last thing I needed was to crash in the creek. Re-mounting my bike after the bridge I heard a gasp from the crowd and a big splash as another rider confirmed my fear of falling in. I never even looked back; I had a race to run.

The Leadville 100 is an out-and-back course, so every rider sees each other at least once. You have to be careful near the turnaround point to not have a head-on collision with other riders.

We had a couple of miles of mostly flat roads ahead of us before the Pipeline aid station so I tried to find someone to draft with and cut down my workload. I found one guy and we had a good thing going, but we needed more riders. Most other riders were unable to hold our pace and I didn’t feel like going much slower. The rain had stopped and the sky was threatening sunshine as we traded pulls to the Pipeline Aid Station.

Race number 1399.

I heard rather than saw the aid station – the cumulative cheers and cowbells let me know we were closing in. We broke out of the trees into complete pandemonia. One of the best things about the Leadville 100 is the love it gets from the locals. The entire town had turned out to support the race, cheering and waving cowbells at us – giving encouragement and support. The aid stations are also full of family, friends and crew, giving the place a decidedly circus appeal.

I rolled through the mass of people, suddenly feeling fantastic. Even though I had no crew at this first aid station, the collective energy really filled me up. I got a bit emotional realizing how stoked everyone was about us racing. It hit me for the first time that in a way, we were racing for them. As I rolled out of the aid station, I looked down and saw my shadow, realizing the sun was coming out. I resolved to finish – I could do it. I would not quit.

The sun brightened and brought wonderfully low humidity with it, I was quickly dry and my hands and feet became very painful as the numbness wore off – that was a good sign. I flexed my hands to help the circulation and soon they felt nice and warm.

Twin Lakes on a sunny day – it was not sunny on race day.

The trail to Twin Lakes went quickly. The “new” single-track section was easy enough but the guy behind me wanted to go much faster. It was a race so I didn’t stop to let him pass. If I finished in 12:00:36, I’d feel like quite the bonehead, no? He came around me when we hit the road without so much as a comment or looking back. I think he understood.

The last mile into the Twin Lakes Aid Station is fast and downhill. You zoom down this fire road, get waved across the highway by a state trooper and then drop into the parking lot which was twice the circus that Pipeline was. There had to be a thousand people lining the parking lot and aid station, stretching almost a mile. I felt electric as I made my way through the crazyness. Someone shouted, “Way to go 1399!” at me and I got a bit emotional again. All I wanted was to make these people proud of my race.

Lance rolls through Twin Lakes without stopping.Courtesy Dave Mozealous.

Finally, I saw Dave in his bright orange Team Climb On jersey waiting at the CTS tent for me. I could tell he was 100% “game on” and handed me a fresh bottle of Perpetuem as I skidded to a halt. The weather had me nervous and I asked for all my rain gear. Dave talked me out of it saying everyone else was ditching theirs. He checked my water and GU’s as I lubed my chain and then I was off again. I can’t tell you how great it was to have Dave crewing for me. It makes a huge difference knowing I had someone in my corner. I was really looking forward to seeing him again in 3 or 4 hours after climbing to Columbine mine.

Can you spot Baby Max, Anna Hansen and Linda Armstrong?Courtesy Dave Mozealous.

Heading out of Twin Lakes, I calculated my time and realized I was moving slower than I thought. I kicked it up a little, hoping to make up some time up Columbine.

Dave Wiens coming through Twin Lakes.Courtesy Dave Mozealous.

Making my way to the base of the climb, I heard a siren approaching. Knowing what it must be, I moved as far right as possible, looking up just in time to see Lance Armstrong fly past me in the opposite direction going near light speed. He was followed closely by a motorcycle with lights and a loud siren. I’ll never forget the look on his face – he was fully pissed off and hammering. I yelled, “Go Lance!” as loud as I could and he was gone. Seeing him in full racing anger, I felt sorry for anyone who’s ever looked back and seen that coming. The man was on fire.

I was hoping that Dave Weins would be in hot-pursuit, but the gap was already very big – like 15 minutes big. Lance was going for the record. When Dave finally passed me he looked a lot more tired than Lance. I gave him a “Go Dave!” at the top of my lungs and kept climbing towards Columbine.

6-time Leadville Champion, Dave Weins.
© 2009 Barry Munson. All rights reserved.

We all know Lance Armstrong – but you should know who Dave Wiens is. Dave has won the Leadville Trail 100 MTB 6 years in a row, until this year. He beat Lance last year, of course. Ken Chlouber joked that this is the first time a rider has used the Tour de France to train for Leadville.

I just think that is what it takes to beat Dave Wiens.

In July, I previewed the Columbine climb at the CTS Leadville camp. I thought it was very straightforward and set a strong time for myself. Today was totally different. I don’t know if it was the weather, nutrition or just having 40 miles already in my legs, I found it difficult to settle into a rhythm. My back began to hurt and again the altimeter on my Garmin seemed to refuse to count my upwards progress. Slowly, slowly I climbed in a group of people. Someone would pass me and then stop for a rest so I’d pass them back. Then I’d have to stop and we’d yo-yo like that for a couple hours. I passed the guy I shared a table with in the packed coffee shop the day before. He was hurting and would finish at 12hr30m, outside the cutoff. I passed the girl who was standing next to me at the start. She’s a Leadville resident who just did great at the Silver Rush 50 a few weeks ago. She was hurting and we yo-yoed awhile until I stopped seeing her. I don’t usually stop to rest on long climbs; I can generally pace myself and keep going. It was harder today, I had to stop. I increased my calories, thinking it might be nutrition related. Up and up we went, just ever so slowly.

This was the 16th edition of the Leadville Trail 100 MTB race. There were lots of riders going for their 13th, 14th and 15th finish. One guy was going for number 16, having raced every edition.

It rained a little bit about mid-way up the climb and I seriously worried that I’d made a terrible mistake by leaving all my rain gear at the bottom of the mountain. Everyone warns not to ascend Columbine without adequate weather protection – what was my problem? Then the rain subsided a little and I forgot all about it.

I finally made it to the unrideable sections near the top. Ok, Lance probably rides these sections, and when I previewed in July, I certainly rode a much higher percentage of them, but today, it was a long line of riders, pushing their bikes. I got in line. Because of the out-and-back nature of the race course, it’s difficult to pass anyone here without risking a head-on collision on the narrow trail. Sometimes you can do it, and sometimes you just have to suffer the traffic. At one point, I sprinted past three or four riders and then immediately bonked. I felt dizzy and shaky, the whole world started to spin a little. Well, I couldn’t stop and let them pass me again so I choked down two GU’s and just kept pushing until I felt better again.

Columbine Mine on a warm day. It was hailing on race day.

Next thing I knew, I was back on my bike, riding the final half mile to the aid station. It was hailing gently at the top. I knew that I’d freeze if I stopped so I sucked down my last GU and pointed the bike downhill.

Now, I ride with a few guys locally and am always the last one to the bottom of any descent. I’m just chicken and don’t want to risk crashing. I don’t mind very much and joke about my “mad descending skills”. So, as I prepared for the descent off Columbine and another racer suggested I go ahead of him, I said, “No, no, I’m chicken and slow. You go first.” Except that I caught him almost immediately. Then I passed him over the ruts, between him and the line of uphill traffic. Then I passed another guy and then another. Then I passed a whole knot of riders by going way outside close to the drop off. When I previewed the course in July, this section was very dry and a lot rockier. The 700 riders ahead and recent rains had made the trail very rideable so I just flew. Down I went, like rocket and I have to say it felt damn good. I guess I really do have “mad descending skills”…

The trail off Columbine where I discovered my “mad descending skills”.

The 3,300 foot descent back to Twin Lakes went very quickly. Realizing I had 3 of 5 major climbs done including the longest, I got really excited. I could see myself finishing on 6th avenue.

Pedaling the final bits into the aid station my legs began to feel funny – my quads and hamstrings were getting tight on each pedal upstroke. I have NEVER cramped up on a bike before – today would be the first. It got worse and I wondered what to do about it. I decided to just ignore it and get to the aid station. I smiled to myself thinking back to all the chatter online about how to “expect the unexpected” at Leadville.

I dropped into the Twin Lakes aid station and came skidding to a halt in front of my faithful crew chief Dave. He handed me a new bottle of Perpetuem and I asked him to fill my Camelbak with the GU Brew mix instead of plain water. I hoped the additional salts would fix the cramping. I took onboard my remaining GU and ALL my rain gear. “For when it goes to shit later” was my reason. I re-lubed my chain and was off. I told Dave, “See you on 6th avenue!”, and I heard someone else say, “right on!” in appreciation. I was at mile 60 after 7 hours on the bike with only 43.5 miles to go.

Having crew on the course made the difference.
© 2009 Barry Munson. All rights reserved.

I was back into “The Flats” as I was calling it, on my way back to the Pipeline aid station. Again, I tried to form a group to share the work, but no one was interested or fast enough. I was feeling pretty good at this point and pushed up the pace a little. When I got to the single track I saw my friends Barry and Daphne taking pictures. Barry’s really into photography and came all the way to Leadville just for the chance to shoot the race. He’s responsible for most of the photos in this post in fact. He’s also a big fan of a certain pink-helmeted photog (just in case she reads this!). It really lifted my spirits to see them both. Daphne called out that my wife had called her and sends her love. Man, how to make a guy cry at mile 70.

I started up the narrow trail just behind a girl who was obviously at her limit. Unable (and unwilling) to pass on the narrow, rocky trail, I encouraged her with, “nice pace, nice and smooth” and “you’re doing great number 571 (race number)”. Thinking this was karma for not letting someone pass from before I just played it cool. We got to the top and I passed, thanking her for the pace.

The new section of single track was a lot of fun.
© 2009 Barry Munson. All rights reserved.

I was feeling great and tried to start calculating where I was in relation to the 12-hour cutoff. I hammered it into the Pipeline aid station, stopping only to pee and check how dehydrated I was. I got a bottle of GU Brew from the CTS staff and downed the whole thing right there. Handing the empty bottle back, I took off. I pointed at my race number as I passed the official timing table – I didn’t want them to miss me. I was coming back in and felt great.

Back at the creek at the base of the Powerline climb, I hopped over the bridge and sped towards the climb. The lower sections of the Powerline climb aren’t really rideable uphill but my plan was to go strong until it became impossible. I saw Daphne again and she shouted something. I passed a guy and exclaimed, “We’ve got this fucking thing in the bag!” I was feeling really good.

At the bottom of Powerline – before the bonk!
© 2009 Barry Munson. All rights reserved.

When the trail got unrideable, I hopped off and started pushing. I was pushing faster than some others and passed many riders. Without oncoming traffic to worry about, this was much easier than on Columbine. Up and up I went. I got past the steepest section and coasted through the short rolling section. Then the hill bit up and I was walking again.

And that’s when The Bonk began. It always starts with my attitude. I start wondering where the top is, why am I racing today or why can’t that guy push any faster – why does she have to push like that? Then my stomach started to roll over so I stopped eating – ouch, big mistake. All at once I got shivery and felt like puking so I just plopped my bike down and sat there on a log, trying to figure out who I was and what was happening exactly. I forced myself to eat a GU very slowly and take short sips of Brew. Then I ate another GU and took a big slug of Perpetuem. I started walking a bit and riding as we approached the top of the Powerline climb.

In just under 12 hours, I managed to burn 8,118 calories (about four pounds of fat). I consumed 4,460 calories during the race in the form of 11 hours of Hammer Perpetuem and 16 GU gels.

When I previewed the course in July, I predicted that this would be where the race really happened. The wheat gets separated at mile 80, on super-steep Powerline with another climb up to St. Kevin still ahead. Here I was, in that moment. There was no way I was going to quit so I just gritted my teeth and kept going.

After a long time, I finally made it to the top. I pedaled the rolling sections and began calculating how much time I had to make the 12-hour cutoff. I figured that I could make it if I averaged 9 mph all the way in. Then I realized that with Powerline done, the only remaining climb was paved and rather moderate. I was totally going to buckle!

Gulping Perpetuem and GU, I hammered the descent off Sugarloaf, passing several riders. When it got to the wider fire road, I got in an aero position and notched my speed up to 35+mph. Every minute at this speed was reducing the 9 mph requirement to buckle. I was making great time and passed loads of other riders just coasting downhill at 20mph or less. I couldn’t understand why they didn’t just pedal a little and drastically increase their speed. I wondered how many of them would miss the cutoff.

The Historic Town of Leadville, Colorado.

Back on the highway, the road tilted up gently so I locked out my suspension and settled in for a climb. I heard a spectator yell out we only had 3 miles to go to the top and I made a mental note of my odometer. Achingly slow, the hundredths of miles ticked by. At first I was feeling a bit poorly from my bonk on Powerline, but because of all the food I took on board, I began to slowly feel better and better. By the time we reached the left-hand turn into the woods and the final aid station, I was feeling really good again.

The left turn into the woods is steep and tricky. There was a race official yelling at all racers to watch the sharp turn. I preemptively shifted into a small gear just as I engaged the hill, but my chain crunched and ground at first, angry from all the mud it had endured that day. I yelled out, “Come on you bitch, let’s go!” and got several gasps from the big crowd at the turn. I guess Coloradans are more polite than San Diegans. Sorry…

The bike shifted finally and made it into the aid station. They were offering Powerade and water. I wanted the calories from Powerade, but had never tried it before. Thinking back to stories of people puking up newly tried products on race day, I opted for water. A volunteer helped me balance my Camelbak as I poured two bottles in. I was washing down a GU with a big gulp of Perpetuem when I saw James, the guy who rented us his house in Leadville. He and his wife were sleeping in the attic above his shop while we lounged in his historic house, just 5 blocks from the start line. That’s how stoked Leadville is to host the race.

Our house in Leadville made the trip super comfortable.
© 2009 Barry Munson. All rights reserved.

James was really excited, saying he’d been looking for me all day and was happy to see that I was going to buckle. Even though I barely know him, it felt like running into a long-lost friend in the woods. It’s hard to explain how cool it is to see people you know after racing for 10 hours.

I got my crap together and took off, determined to make as good a time as I could. All I had left was the descent down St. Kevin, a few miles of flats to town and the infamous “Boulevard” section. I went as fast as I could down St. Kevin. I used every bit of my newly found “mad descending skills” and only almost went over the bars once. With 700 or so riders ahead of me, the line was clearly stamped on the trail and I had a blast hammering downhill as fast as I could. I kept passing people and shouted at one pair of guys I recognized from somewhere, “Let’s hammer! We’re almost done!” They later caught me again – nice.

I hit the flats into town and kept the tempo going. I just felt great – I knew I was going to make it and my heart was soaring. I had dedicated my life to training for this race over the last eight months. Being on the precipice of achieving that goal really choked me up, which made it hard to breathe – I resolved to cry at the finish line and pushed on.

Zooming through an intersection on my way back to town, I was cheered by a crowd as the state patrol officer flagged traffic to let me through at top speed. Someone shouted, “Finish strong 1399!” and my heart almost burst. I wanted the best time possible to honor this race and the people who support it.

I made the left turn onto the “Boulevard” and resolved to not walk it. The Boulevard is only about a kilometer long, but it’s steep, rocky and most importantly, at mile 100 of the most grueling mountain bike race you may ever experience. It’s the final challenge before victory on 6th avenue. I had ridden it in July and it looked even smoother today. It was also covered with a dozen riders pushing their bikes. I hammered past them, my HR spiking. I backed off a bit and pedaled past the remaining riders onto the long fire roads to town.

Lance rode this flat the last mile or so. Apparently he can’t fix a flat. Must be nice.
© 2009 Barry Munson. All rights reserved.

I spied a guy not far in front of me so I set up for intercept speed. It’s always more fun to chase than be chased. I caught him with about 2 miles to go and immediately started to feel bonky from the effort. I slugged down my final GU of the day and slurped in some water. He passed me just before we made the final turn onto 6th avenue in Leadville. With just ¾ of a mile to go, I resolved to catch him again. I dug deep and gave it everything I had, making the catch just a few hundred feet before the red carpet and the finish line. I saw him later after the race and thanked him for making me work so hard. He laughed saying that was pretty good for a 65-year-old. Wow, I hope I’m that strong when I’m 65.

I rolled down the red carpet and punched the air as I crossed the line at 11 hours, 24 minutes, 24 seconds. There was a big crowd at the line and I rolled into its middle. Not sure what to do, I just looked around. Someone took the timing chip off my leg and told me to get some food and water at a tent. Merilee, the other Leadville race organizer, put a medal around my neck and congratulated me on finishing. I heard my name read from the announcer podium. Still in a daze, I wandered towards the tent when I heard Daphne calling for me. She and Barry were at the finish waiting for me. I gave her a big hug and just like that, my Leadville 100 was over.

I can’t tell you how happy I am that I finished under 12 hours and got my buckle. Can’t wait for next year!
© 2009 Barry Munson. All rights reserved.

Finally headed to Leadville this morning for the race on Saturday. What an amazing journey this has been so far. I guess you can consider that this journey really began eight months ago when I entered my name in the lottery, fully confident I’d be selected.

It’s been an amazing ride ever since I got my email from Merilee confirming my entry in this 100-mile mountain bike race. Working with a coach for the first time, learning what it means to ride your bike for more than a few hours, riding Sonora Pass in the Sierra Nevadas, completing the 120-mile Triple Bypass in Colorado in 9 hours, and of course, previewing the actual Leadville course. Thousands of miles and hundreds of hours spent on my bike.

I’m honored to be racing with some of the greatest cyclists of my generation. It’s pretty amazing to think that I might be worthy of tagging along with those guys. Amazing.

I’ve done the work, suffered appropriately and I know I’m ready. Stay tuned…

The idea of spending the next 3 hours climbing the big hills of the Alpine Challenge all by myself was not particularly appealing, but that’s what I had ahead of me. I had been part of the 20-person lead group that hammered over the first climb of the day to create a safety zone for the long descent ahead. I stayed with the leaders as we rocketed the next 14 miles down, down, down – creating an altitude deficit we would have to pay back in spades.

The race exploded as the road turned up and the leaders decided it was time to distinguish themselves. I was about 15-20 places back, and all by myself. I was one of 13 Descenders racing (ok, riding!) the 2009 Alpine Challenge. It was very cool to be part of such a big group. We had riders ahead and behind. At the start line, we had lined up together and took the first two rows.

Speed. Photo © 2009 Barry Munson. All rights reserved.

Looking up the road, I could see some blue Descenders jerseys and the distinct pedaling style of Mike. They were not far and after pacing them for a while I could tell we were going about the same speed. Instead of spending the day alone, I decided to use a little gas to join them. Mike, Scott, Jeff and I became a group of four that would spend most of the day together.

Mike became our Captain on the road. He regulated our pace; steady tempo on the hills so we wouldn’t drop each other and fast pacelines on the descents to make up time on the leaders. A flick of his hand could mean, “Slow down just a touch to let someone rest a little”, or maybe “Hurry, hurry and pull through – get the paceline moving!” At one point, just as I was feeling tired and not looking forward to my next pull, he waved me out of rotation, sending me to the back to draft and rest. At the pee stop, he was full of, “Come on boys, let’s not stop for tea, time to GO!”

We gobbled up a few of the leaders along the way. One guy in an Ouch/Maxxis jersey took a terrific pull for us, which proved to be too much for Scott and Jeff. It was also too much for Ouch who faded over the top and Mike motioned to wait up for him since he’d worked so hard. We were just a few miles from the finish and my competitive juices were really starting to flow. On an incredibly steep highway overpass we dropped Ouch again and Mike said it was just us now so we hammered it. We traded very strong pulls a couple of times and then Mike started having difficulty keeping my wheel. I yelled encouragement to him and kept the hammer down as we sped the final mile. Mike stayed on and we finished strong together – I was really stoked cause my family was at the line, waving cowbells and cheering for riders.

Voris, Mike, Rick, Seba, Me and Sofia.

In the post ride analysis, Team Descenders took 8 of the top 20 spots, including first and third. Mike and I came in somewhere between 10th and 15th. What a kick-ass day on a bike – made all the better by riding with an awesome team.

Go Descenders!