Marji Gesick 100

📷:  Rob Meendering

Driving back home over the course of 2 days gave me time to process what happened on Saturday.  I will say that I am in a better place now than at the finish Saturday night. I had great expectations for my 7th Marji.  While I had no illusions of grandeur, I did think that I could approach my 2019 finishing time of 14:26. What I ended up with was 16:07 and a broken spirit, vowing that I was done with this one, the 1000 mile buckle be damned!

The day started out spectacularly.  Perfect weather with a starting temperature of 50 degrees.  No rain the night before and the trails were bone dry. Lisa dropped me off at the start, as she was not racing this year. I had a great leg opener the day before checking out Flow, Gurly, and Doctors. I was racing my Trek Super Caliber 2nd gen, with a 30T chain ring and Bontrager 2.4 XR4's. My nutrition plan was simple:  Skratch High Carb in my USWE pack, a bottle of LMNT, and a flask of Torq gel.  Plan was 250-300 calories per hour.

After the electric guitar version of the Star Spangled Banner, we were off on the 0.6 mile run.  I took it easy, this being my warm up, and just trying to avoid getting my shoes knocked off or twisting an ankle.  Five minutes later I was on my bike, racing through the Forestville ski trails.  Not wanting to burn any matches here, I bided my time and only made passes when they were quick and efficient.  Top O The World was the usual parking lot, so I HAB'd down the left-hand side, passing 12 racers in the process. As I made my way over to Rickles, traffic began to thin out.  Riding in my own little bubble, I made quick work of a dry and fast Rickles, my favorite Forestville Trail.

Entering Ramblin Man, I was 1 hour 49 minutes into the race; right where I wanted to be. I got caught behind a racer through the berms and was biding my time to make the pass.  However, he got jammed up on a rock at the entrance to Wildcat. In order for me not to slam into him, I had to take a less than ideal line, and ended up turtling on a rock slab. I did lose some skin in the process and felt some warmth run down my leg as I continued through WildCat.  Looking down at my leg when the trail eased up a bit, I had a nice river of blood getting soaked up by my sock.  Fortunately it was just a flesh wound and I quickly forgot about it.

As I entered Pine Knob, I lost traction on the first little grunty climb, and dismounted.  Two steps later and my right shoe loosened up. I went to tighten the Boa and nothing happened because the cable had snapped. No worries, as I unwrapped some duct tape from by air pump and fixed the issue. Once I got going again, I felt the PK flow and ended up with my second fastest time on this trail.

I felt good on the remaining trails over to Lowe's and ended up at my 30 mile resupply point in 3:28, about 10 minutes off my 2019 pace.  I took about a 3 minute pit stop to refill my pack, bottle, and swap gel flasks.  I had emptied all 3 containers, therefore getting in the necessary calories.  I took a 1/2 a PayDay bar to enjoy on the IOHT.

The South Trails were primo!  I was enjoying every single bit of them, even the climb on Smiley's. Gone was Eh Line and instead Flow was in its place. Way better and more fun IMO. I was glad I had pre ridden, because it was spicy! Rough Rock Ridge is also one of my favorites in this area, as it flows well.  There was a slight difference in the approach around the South Trails TH, taking out the beginning of Gurly, which was always a short but sketchy descent.

I remember way back when I first started racing how Gurly and Doctor's was SO HARD, technically speaking.  Now I just ride them without so much of an afterthought.  And today was one of those days, as I was feeling good and the legs responded when I asked them to.  The Marquette Mountain climb was also not a problem; the dirt had enough moisture that it was hard packed and tacky.  And then my absolute favorite trail of the whole course ... Scary! Of course, there was a traffic jam of walkers, so I had to take a less than ideal line.  The photographer there yelled out a "hell yeah" as I cleaned that tricky section.

📷:  Rob Meendering

Not sure if this was where the first fake checkpoint was, but at the intersection of Scary and Not So Scary, which was on a fairly steep climb, there be the pumpkin,  And, of course, it was empty.  It was fun getting back started on that steep ass climb.

The climb up Zueg's sucked no more than usual, but Above Grade was a joy to climb.  I don't believe I have ever ridden this trail dry.  Today it was just that and although still very technical with its narrowness, big boulders and super exposed roots, I enjoyed getting to ride most of it, save for a couple of spots where the reward was not worth the risk, as in star-fishing off the side and down into the rocky ravine, like one of my students did at Marji camp back in June.

Old Camp Ridge and Rough Rock Ridge is where the roots began to really get bothersome.  I began to wonder if Todd and Danny had thrown out a bag of root seeds and then watered them with Miracle Grow.  The ORV trails were not too sandy; better than I expected for being so dry. But the headwind on the IOHT cancelled out any gains that I may have made on the ORV section. 

I rolled into Jackson Park at 3:35 pm.  I was a little disappointed because, as good as I felt through out those first 69 miles, I was 18 minutes off my expected pace. Lisa and Chris were there and helped me to refill my nutrition.  I ate a Honey Stinger waffle and another part of a PayDay. I had drained my USWE pack, about 2/3 of my LMNT bottle, and all of my gel flask. I changed into my spare pair of shoes and packed more duct tape, just in case. And then I dropped my pants and applied more Chamois Butt'r ... for all the world to see! On the way out, I stopped at the porta john and emptied my bladder, the one and only time I would do all day.

I saw Roy Kranz on Mill Street.  As I yelled out to my favorite duathlete, he responded that he was going to walk the whole run section and still buckle.  And indeed he did, finishing in just the nick of time. Halfway up Fenceline was where the first checkpoint was.  I grabbed a token and placed it in my zippered jersey pocket.  And then from there pushed on. The second real checkpoint (I think -- there were so many fake ones, I could be wrong about this one) was on Bacon Strip, right at the bottom of the wooden ramp descent.

I was still feeling pretty decent going up Last Bluff.  I did welcome the flat pavement pedaling after that, even though it went within 50 yards of the finishing line.  The music, the announcer calling out finishers, and the smell of pizza made no difference. I saw a deer on the Deer Shit Trail ... go figure.  But what purpose does the middle section of that trail even serve?!?  All I could envision on that rock rollover, as I HAB'd down it, was an ankle or knee exploding on the moon dust covered rock.  I felt bad for the rookies, without much HAB experience, as I could see how scary that must be try to negotiate, especially at night. 

Towards the end of this loop, I could feel the fatigue monster begin to bear down upon me.  Sissy Pants was more of a struggle than usual, as well as the Hamptons.  However, the young kid (with his Dad) towards the upper part of Hamptons inspired me.  I fist bumped him as I rode past; I do hope he finished!  The end of this loop was slightly different than last year;  and I flew by the turn, getting in some bonus climbing on the way back up.

I rolled back to my pit where Lisa and Chris were waiting.  That loop took 3 hours 46 minutes; 30 minutes longer than 2019 ... meh.  I drank most of my Skratch High Carb, but failed at consuming my LMNT, only 1/3 of the bottle.  And I had only taken in 1/2 of my gel flask. I ate another waffle while Lisa was putting my light/battery on my helmet.  

It was 7:30 pm and darkness was falling when I rolled out for the last 20 miles.  As I began the climb up Dirty Mary, the dark thoughts began to enter my mind.  I was already wishing for Cry Baby.  My legs and vestibular system began to shut down.  I turned my light on towards the top, although it didn't seem to help.  It was as if my eyes could not process my world which had suddenly gone two-dimensional. 

All the trails seemed to blur together into one million climbs interspersed with descents that my brain could not process and send the right signals to my body in order to safely ride down.  I clipped/unclipped so many times that my right ankle hurt like a grade 1 sprain.

My thoughts got darker as time wore on.  Normally I can shake them, but the only thing that helped was seeing those who I had coached at Marji camp.  Knowing that they too, were suffering, I then punched the monkey on my back, subduing him for a few minutes, so that I could give words of encouragement to my peeps, which then helped me to get back on track and focus.

I don't even remember riding the trail around Lake Sally and by the time I was pushing my bike up the double track rock slab, I was thinking I may have gotten off course and missed that section. I thought 38 Special was Cry Baby and that I was almost finished. It was not until the stupid climbing on Old 56 that I figured out where I was and what I still had to do to get out of these damn woods!

At this point, with about 5 miles to go, I told myself that just get to that finish and you don't have to do this race ever again.  And what's so special about that 1000 mile buckle ... not a damn thing!  I have never had such negativity enter my brain, even when I was sick with Covid at Breck Epic and pushing my bike up Wheeler Pass, trying not to pass out.

In year's past, when I have finally gotten to Jasper Knob, I could always find enough in my tank to pedal that climb.  Not tonight.  I pushed most of the way and grabbed my final token.  There was a Marji arrow pointing to the left above the pumpkin.  With the kind of shit Todd has pulled in the past, I walked over to the far left of the knob and shined my light ... just in case there was some additional fuckery going on. 

I rolled through the finish line at 11:36, 16 hours and 7 minutes after my journey began.  I really had no emotion; I was shelled and just thankful to have it in my rear view mirror.  I was disappointed in my performance, especially the last 20 miles, which took an hour longer than my 2019 time. I told Lisa that I was done with Marji, to which she immediately responded, "give it some time; you will change your mind."

And so I thought that this was my last Marji, beginning the drive home Sunday morning.  I didn't think I had the mental fortitude to do 3 more hundreds and 1 more 50, what I need to get that 1000 mile buckle.  This year's race, despite great course conditions and weather, was the hardest one ever.  How could I possibly do 3 more of these, knowing how exponentially difficult each successive one will potentially be?  Yes, I try to think of myself as 55 years young, as I have the heart and mind of a 30 year old, but my body often times thinks otherwise.

After a 10 hour day of driving and another 10 hours of really good sleep, I got back on the road for another 7 hours to the house.  During Sunday's drive, angry, frustrated Carey changed back into the #finishwhatyoustart Carey. 

Things I learned during my 2 day drive back home:

    1.  Comparison is the thief of joy, even when you are comparing your former self.

    2.  I need to get back on a structured plan for Marji ... no more winging it.  I just don't do well with self-coaching.

    3. Your nutrition plan only works if you stick to it.  I failed on the last 20 miles, only consuming 400-500 calories.

    4. Don't expect to be a fast night rider if you never practice it.  What I have discovered about me as I have aged is that my reaction time between what my eyes see, how my brain processes that, and how the body reacts has slowed down considerably. 

    5. Accept that you won't be as fast as your 40 year old self, but challenge your 56 year old self to be as fit, fast, and technically proficient as you possibly can.

    6. HTFU!

    

I immediately texted my #dohardthings buddy Lisa and told her that God willing, in 5 years we are gonna tackle the out and back together.  That, with a few Marji 50's, will get me that elusive 1000 mile buckle.  And there won't be a better way to retire from Marji than finishing that f*cker at 60 years young!

It was inspiring to see all Marji Camp Group 11 peoples out there, finding and crushing their limits.  The number of support crew offering up their help was astronomical;  it had to be a 3:1 ratio of support peeps to racers. 

Thanks to Lisa, Chris, and Jayden for their support, way on into the night time hours.  It meant a lot to me.

Thanks to Todd and the whole 906 Adventure Crew.  Even though you make life so much fucking harder, with it comes the reward of self esteem, confidence, and a longer health span.

AFI for 2025!  And beyond.

Breck Epic Stage 6 - Gold Dust

32 miles   3800 feet 

As my good friend John Switow has told me over the years when doing a race, as long as you can get to "25 to go," miles that is, you can finish the race/ride. Well, today was close enough to 25 that I knew I was gonna finish this thing.  The easy day, they say.  It was nothing but easy, but I would take this over another Wheeler Pass kind of day.  Weather was once again on our side.  And once again we started in waves.  Two big climbs, two big descents.

I felt weak, but the single track start brought what little bit of energy I had built up during my 9 hours of sleep the night before.  I even had to slow down a bit for Dave to catch back up.  We started off by going up Aspen Alley and Baker's Tank. When we hit Boreas Pass road dirt road climb, I imploded pretty quickly.  Turning the pedals over at 11,000+ feet had me struggling to breathe.  Not just the thin air but I could tell my lungs were struggling to process the oxygen.  Every inspiration hurt and I had to fight back a spastic cough.  Dave was again patient and I just focused on his wheel for those 3 miles.

At the top, I stopped just long enough at the aid station to grab a gel.  As we were leaving, a coed team arrived. They were currently sitting in 6th. Even though we had a good hour lead, seeing them fired me up!  The Tasmanian devil in me woke the hell up and I was ready to give'r.

A little descent on road and then we hit the Gold Dust Trail.  This was a descent littered with baby heads.  Fun, but you had to be on your toes so that your front wheel wouldn't be taken out by one of them.  Then the trail leveled out and we were pedaling through what looked like an old canal or flume back in the gold mining days.  It was smooth and flowy.

We popped back out onto Boreas Pass Road and began the 8 mile climb back up to the aid station. I don't know if I was riding like a scalded dog or suffering like a dog, but I went as hard as I possibly could. An hour later we hit the top.  Never once during that climb did I look back, but now I did and did not see them in sight.  Small victory!

The final 7 miles were all downhill, mostly on dirt road and pavement.  Their was a short section of trail called Broken Wheel that was a lot like middle Black in Pisgah, before all the improvements.  A deep rowdy rutted trail that had your brakes smoking by the time you finished it.  We finished back up at the ice rink on the Blue Heron and Southside trails, short but sweet single track to the finishing banner.

Our bike racing "marriage' survived over 6 brutal days

I ... was ... so ... happy ... to ... be ... done!  We secured our 5th place with a time of 3:39.  The night before Dave had emphatically said that he was NOT going to be out there for 4+ hours today.  And ... you're welcome!

Thank you Dave for suggesting this race over Leadville.  Despite my illness, which turned out to be Covid, I had a great time.  But for that virus, I know we would have given 3rd place a run for their money.

I give this stage race 5 stars.  Mike put on a great job, not only behind the scenes, but during the daily briefs, which had me laughing with his comedic flair.  But he was also super serious and concerned for our safety.  And it showed with all the medical people on staff.  The volunteers were friggin' amazing, from the aid station workers to those who manned the bike wash.  The final night banquet food was overflowing and never ending and delicious!  And the trails humbled me.  I went in assuming one thing and came away being a better mountain biker.  They were fucking technical and hard, but so much fun!  

Breck Epic Stage 5 - Wheeler Pass

24 miles, 5500 feet

Waking up this morning, I ... felt ... like ... death ... warmed ... over.  I mustered up the gumption to ensure I would finish this stage.  Buckle be damned, I was coming after you.  Despite how bad I felt, at least I was not nauseous and was able to down a decent amount of calories.

I tried to not allow Dave to know truly how awful I felt.  I surely did not want to spoil his day by being a whiny baby.  Thank goodness all the years of racing had my mental tenacity dialed like a cheetah in hot pursuit of an impala.

Burro Trail

The start was in waves of 10-12 racers due to the fact that we were immediately on single track.  Amazingly I felt better than expected, probably because I had to focus on the trail and the grade was merciful average of 8% for the first 4 miles.  I grabbed a gel at the aid station at mile 4 and then proceeded onto the Wheeler Trail.

And so the stairway to heaven begins

The pitch immediately doubled and the HAB shortly ensued for the next 2 miles. It was touch and go for me here, as the combination of illness, 12,000+ elevation, and the fatigue build up had me feeling so dizzy.  At times I would just rest my arms and head on the bars of my bike.  But the higher I climbed, the more amazingly beautiful the scenery became.  At one point, I could look up to the heavens, and off in the distance see the string of the leaders' pink jerseys.  I still had a helluva long way to go ... ooof!

It took a little over an hour for me to go 2 miles.  At the top of Wheeler Pass, I was giddy.  The hardest part was done ... or so I thought.  We got the Twizzler Fairy to take our photo.

12,500 feet

The 3 mile descent was fairly technical with either willows hiding the trail or littered with small baby heads.  The scenery was unbelievable.  Their was one small but hurtful push midway through.  Dave thought this little hump was the last climb before the BIG descent.  I think he cried a little when I broke it to him that we still had to deal with Mount GawDamnit.

After another difficult but shorter push up Mount GawDamnit, we were finally rewarded with an exhilarating descent down the Colorado Trail.  It was gnarly unforgiving chunk up top, but soon gave way to smoother buffed out trail before we hit the tree line and were gifted with greasy Pisgah-like soil, slimy roots, and slippery rocks.  

About half way down, I noticed a bike packer pushing up the trail.  As she raised her head, I instantly knew it was Audrey Tangye.  She was in the midst of the Colorado Trail Race and was having a hard go, what with shoes falling apart, despite duct tape and zip ties.  I tried to give her some words of encouragement.

One bad bike pack racing MF'r

Dave and I said farewell and good luck and continued on down the mountain.  As we were enjoying the slippery nature of the trail and gettin' in the greasy groove, a faster racer approached from behind.  Dave and I stopped to let him by.  The woman behind him told me to go (we had passed her earlier), so I went on by Dave and told him to go, go, go.  I continued down for about another half mile and found a spot where it would be a good place to video him coming down.  I waited and waited and waited ... did he crash, have a mechanical?  Soon after those thoughts, another racer approached and told me that HE was looking for ME and was going BACK UP the mountain.  WTF?!?

I started running (more like a fast walk) back up the trail screaming his name.  Mind you, my throat was super sore from the infection and my voice was scratchy, so it did not carry far.  FINALLY I found him.  This was the closest I came to "divorcing" him during this race 😡😣😖😆.  We ended up losing about 12 minutes during this fiasco.

Knowing that there was no need to dwell on what just happened, we got back into the groove and finished the Miner's Creek descent.  Just before the aid station, we encountered a creek crossing that was alot deeper than what I anticipated.  Poor BB and wheel bearings! 

The last 7 miles were on the Peaks Trail.  I swore Mike had said the night before at the briefing that this trail was baller:  just a little climb at first, but then fast, smooth, and flowy right to the finish.  It was anything but!  The climbs were steep and riddled with roots and the body finally imploded.  Those last 7 miles I am sure would have looked a lot more fun, had I been at 100%.  I did crack a smile, however, when a couple of riders stopped to cheer us on up a climb.

We crossed the finish line in 5:42, good enough for 4th on the day and still a strong 5th in the GC.  I was utterly exhausted after this one.  And we still had a good 2+ mile pedal back, including a 100 foot climb, back to our room.

I was so glad there was ice cream awaiting me, as my throat was on fire, making speaking difficult, especially after the earlier yelling session, trying to reconnect with Dave. Holy Hellfire Day!  It was definitely a beauty and beast kind of day.  This was my second favorite stage and probably would have been my first, had I been feeling better.

Breck Epic Stage 4 - Aquaduct

Another great day to try and not die

I woke up this morning feeling like I had been KO'd in an MMA match and now had all the full blown symptoms of an upper respiratory infection:  sore throat, runny nose, sneezing, and coughing. My breakfast was caffeine and Aleve.  I decided to take my phone with me today because at the speed I was gonna go, I would have plenty of time to take pictures.

The first 3 climbs were not as long, but to me, felt like they went on forever.  The breathing became labored whenever I tried to push.  And I got a friggin' side stitch, something I have never had riding a bike!  Dave was so patient, but I knew he had several gears left and was just in cruising mode.

Despite feeling like shit, I did enjoy the short climb on the Colorado Trail.  For whatever reason, I just feel bliss when on the CT.  And with the spectacular views, it helped me to focus on the beauty instead of the misery.  The descent on the CT was very narrow trail and super exposed, meaning that if you went off the trail, you were gonna fall for a very very long time.  The thrill to hit this at speed was crazy good.  The switchbacks were tight and steep; you needed to have nose wheelie skills to clean them.

Colorado Trail

The fun stopped with a hard right and straight the fuck up the Vomit Hill trail.  And so began a long HAB ... 800 feet in 1.4 miles.  I probably pushed 1 mile of it.  

Vomit Hill

There was a reward with a 2 mile descent down into the Soda Creek valley, which was absolutely stunning.

Soda Creek Valley descent

The little climb up the Soda Ridge Trail was a bugger, but then it flattened out on the Keystone Aquaduct Trail and I motored better.  I almost tried riding that first little bridge across the aquaduct, a large pipe that ran parallel within the trail.  But the cost for falling was gonna be a broken body and/or bike, so I hopped off and walked across.  The remaining bridges had less dire consequences so I rode those.

Dave stopped at the next aid station to grab some more fuel.  I had plenty, as today I was just not feeling the urge to eat or drink much.  I told him I would slow pedal, well, because, that was all I could do anyway 😂.

Keystone Gulch Road climb

The longest climb of the day was 2300 feet in a little over 7 miles.  I mistakenly thought that it would be a dirt road climb.  It started out that way at a nice 5-7% grade.  After the third mile, I saw where we were turning onto a lesser developed rode at a much steeper grade, the West Ridge Trail. Oh, God, no! I think I had a little pity party as I slogged my way up the multiple switchbacks.

The 4 mile descent down the Colorado Trail was the most fun I had all day.  We had ridden up this during Stage 2;  I liked it much better this way 😊.  A very rooty descent, so super glad it was dry.  I just let my bike do all the work and hung on all smiles!

Rock Island Gulch was the last climb, double track.  I wondered every time I had to get off and push a little if the state of Colorado just didn't know how to make switchbacks.  Apparently they need to talk to the trail builders.

I suffered pretty miserably on the Mineral Hill Trail climb, as I was absolutely running on fumes.  Fortunately we finished with a descent down the Back Door and the B&B Trails.

We finished with a time of 6:02, another 5th on the day and a solid 5th in the GC.

Breck Epic Stage 3 - Guyot

Another glorious weather day

I woke up with cobwebs in my brain, which was a little unusual this early in the race.  History usually has me feeling this way later in a stage race.  Oh well, nothing that a huge cup of Christopher Bean Coffee wouldn't fix.

The initial 6 mile climb was a mix of pavement and double track.  I was on the struggle bus early on:  any effort above a heart rate of 135, my vision would narrow and I would feel faint.  Very weird and frustrating.  Once we made it to the French Flume Trail, I was back in my happy place, as this was mostly flat to downhill.  I remembered this trail from the Firecracker 50 many years ago, and I liked this direction much better.

The steep AF climb up French Gulf Road to French Pass had me on the struggle bus, with 1600 feet of gain in 3 miles.  Couldn't breathe, couldn't see (tunnel vision and stars), no power, but I tried to focus on the beauty of the area as opposed to my suffering.

So much eye candy!

And then, on top, real candy!

I passed on the Skittles.  I mean, who can even chew at 12,000 feet! I was rewarded with my efforts with a fantastic descent:  from rock chunk to smooth flow, I enjoyed every single second.  Blaze just ate 'er up!  And without needing to breathe, I felt normal again.

  

The climb up to Georgia Pass was another kick to the va jay jay, but once again with stunning views.  I felt as if I could reach up and touch the clouds. The descent off the pass felt like I was in Pisgah. 6 miles of rowdy roots to Pilot-like rocky chunk.  Yee-hah!  Ride 'em cowboy!

One more "little" climb where I seemed to feel a little better, but probably because this was at lower elevation.  Then we got to slay some more single track:  Great Flume, Side Door, and Minnie Mine.  Once on Minnie Mine, I thought the finish was near, as I could hear the announcer.  But ... nooooo!  We got to play on the Turks Trail, which took us a very roundabout and climby way to the finish line.  Oof!  That hurt a little.

Dave and I finished with a time of 5:55, once again 5th on the day and still holding 5th in the GC.  

Breck Epic Stage 2 - Colorado Trail

 

Perfect weather day: sunshine and 50-60 degrees

I woke up feeling charged and ready to give'r!  A brief stint of pavement before we started the brutal 4 mile climb up Gold Run Gulch and Draw Road.  Both were relatively smooth'ish double track but with an average grade of 15% and at times exceeding 22%  I was so glad I was on Blaze, as I was able to granny up the climbs.  But ... there is always someone who thinks they have the quads of Thor.  And this guy kept trading passes with me.  I would pedal past him, only to have him hard charge it for 20-30 meters, passing me, and then blowing up right in front of me.  This repeated itself 3 times, with me having to choose evasive maneuvers to keep from getting completely shut down and having to walk myself. And on these steeps, it is hard to get back to pedaling again.  I had to channel my daughter's "it will work itself out, Mom, so just be chill and don't fret."  But the impatient Carey wanted to throw a large stick into his derailleur.

We were rewarded with a superb downhill on The Bookcase and ZL Trails.  Smooth, flowy, and fast ... all sh!ts and giggles! This was followed by 4 miles on the Galena Ditch Trail, single track along a spine of dirt and rock, hard to pass, as it is tight and falls off on both sides.  But there has always got to be that person who just HAS to get by, despite the fact that there is still somewhat of a train of riders in front of me. I let her, but only when it opened up for a safe pass.  Dave was just ahead of me and was almost used for traction by her when she passed him.

The North Fork descent was blazingly fast and furious.  I was leading and Blaze was having a very good day, railing the turns and eating up the bumps.  Right at the bottom, however, was a hard blind turn to the left, followed by a garden of very pointy rocks.  I found the right line, but Dave did not.  I heard a small explosion behind me and knew instantly that he flatted.  Shit!

We pulled off the trail; it was a puncture to the tread.  After inserting 3 plugs, we knew we were going to have to tube the damn thing.  We had a time tubing it.  At first Dave could not get the friggin' nut off the valve.  Fortunately I had the Wolftooth pack pliers or we would have been screwed.  Then the plugs did NOT want to come out.  It doesn't help when your fingers are covered in slippery sealant.  Dave inserted his Tubolito in and then reset the tire.  But the damn valve on the Tubolito was too short to use a CO2 as it kept pushing the valve back into the rim.  So, 456 mini air pumps later, we had pumped it up (as well as our forearms and shoulders) to a solid pressure, but a section of the tire did not want to reseat up onto the bead.  F it, just ride it like it is.

25 minutes later, we were moving again.  The good news was that almost everyone who passed us asked us if we needed help.  Dave was pretty soured over this, but I told him not to worry, let's just enjoy the ride. I could care less where we placed in the pecking order; I came out here for the experience, not to step up on a box.

The climb up the Colorado Trail was not as steep as the first climb of the day, but very rooty.  That first mile was an SOB as I waited for my legs to open back up. I was happy to have dry dirt under my wheels for this one.  We did pass several Colorado Trail Racers on this section.  I cheered for them as I passed by them as they were pushing their 50+ pound bikes skyward.  Any FOMO about doing this race quickly left me on this climb.

Once the legs were back at it, I felt the best I had all day.  The remaining miles were a little tamer, with smaller climbs and descents and the trails (Hay, Blair Witch, ZL in reverse) were super fun.  One nasty steep climb back on Gold Run Gulch and Prospector  Gulch Road, which was nothing more than chunky rock, where I may have had a Yosemite Sam moment.  The icing on the cake was the final bit of single track to the finish on the Sidedoor Trail.

Our finish time was 6:01, 6th on the day, and still 5th in the GC.  Aside from that little flat fiasco, it was a great day on some beautiful trail in one of the most scenic places in the USA!

Breck Epic Stage 1 - Pennsylvania Creek

I arrived in Breckenridge on a Friday afternoon (race started Sunday).  Melissa was also racing and had decided to drive out with me.  For the past 8 days, we had an adventure that started out with us riding at Devil's Den State Park, where I got well over 100 chigger bites, followed up by me losing my wallet at a gas station on Day 2 of our bike-cation.  Don't judge those standing in the Western Union line at Wal-Mart, as it could be YOU one day 😂😂😂.

Trail 401 - Crested Butte

Trail 401 - Crested Butte

The next 6 days we spent in Salida and Crested Butte, stimulating our bone marrow.  My total ride time for the week prior to Breck Epic was 18 hours; probably not the best idea right before a 6 day stage race, but could ... not ... help ... myself.  On Day 7 of our bike-cation, Melissa initially thought she had altitude sickness, but by the next day, it became pretty apparent that she had a full blown upper respiratory infection.  I then spent the next 2 days distancing myself from the nasal spew-fest, but near impossible when sharing a hostel room and vehicle.

Upon arriving in Breckenridge, I dropped off Melissa at Naomi's AirBNB, where she would be rooming with her during the race.  Sorry Naomi, for dropping off my Wuhan friend to you 😷.  I then made my way over to where Dave and I would be staying at Beaver Run, the host resort.  At this point, I was an nervous as hell about contracting Melissa's illness, but hoping that if I got past the 3rd stage of Breck Epic, I would be in the clear.

We spent Saturday getting our bikes and nutrition ready and in the evening headed over to the venue for packet pick up and the racer's meeting.  Mike, the race director, gave us an overview of Stage 1.  He was also super stoked that 60 pro women had signed up, by far one of the largest women's field ever, in the mountain biking discipline.  To muster up that number, he had comped every one of them, who had a pro license and whose application was accepted.

That night, rain had passed through, and as we were getting ready at 6 am on Saturday, it was raining hard and blowing side ways.  I felt like I was getting ready for a Pisgah Productions race.  Putting all the rain gear on, Dave and I pedaled the 1/2 mile to the start at the Ice Rink.  Upon arriving, we found out that the race had been delayed from 8:30 to 9:00.  Since there was no warm, dry area to wait, we pedaled back to our room.  A half hour later we then drove back to the start, only to find out that the it had been delayed again to 9:30.  At least we had somewhere warm and dry to wait. By now the rain had let up, but there was still a chill in the air.

Only after we were in the start corral, with a few minutes before the gun went off, did we also discover that the distance had been shortened from 35 miles to 16 miles.  So here I was stuck with a full 50 ounce bladder and a bottle on the bike.  And I was NOT going to dump any of that expensive Skratch super hi-carb fuel on the ground.

The race started on pavement.  It was blistering fast!  I thought we would have longer before hitting the single track, but the hole shot came at 1 mile.  Now think of 300+ racers funneling into tight single track.  It was a clusterfuck!  Dave and I waited at least a minute until we started moving again.  It was muddy and slick, but this is BRECK EPIC!  I was dialed and loving every slippery moment. 

The course was a mix of single track and double track.  The double track either went straight the F up ... or straight F'ing down, and was littered with jagged baby heads.  Dave wasn't quite feeling it the first few miles, so I let him lead.  We did end up having to HAB some ... the 2800 feet of elevation gain was mostly in the first 10 miles!

On a double track descent, Dave got ahead of me as he rode a secondary line around a couple of slower racers.  Me, I was not willing to risk a flat, so I patiently waited for a safer opportunity to pass.  The last single track descent was on Baker's Tank Trail and was oodles of greasy fun!  I felt at home in this element.  We finished up the descent on Baldy Road.

Our time of 2:09 was good enough for 5th and just 3 minutes out from 4th.  The top 3 teams were way ahead of us, and also way younger.  I was happy with how we did.  While Dave pedaled back to retrieve his truck, I pedaled on over to the bike wash at Beaver Run and gave Taz a thorough cleaning. Since the climbing out here is, on average 8%, with grades easily getting up to 15-18% and beyond, I decided to ride Blaze (Top Fuel with a 28T chain ring) the remainder of the stages.  Taz has a 30T chain ring.

Now I was off to the recovery race: shower, eat, stretch, leg squeezing with Elevation Legs, prep for tomorrow, eat again, sleep.