Tuscozoar Reign of Pain

GGG, OG, RRR

Kenny and Corianne Kocarek had been trying to get me to come up to their neck of the woods to participate in their 6 hour mountain bike race for several years.  For me, that was an 8 hour drive and I wasn't ready to commit to that, just to ride a small, and probably boring, system in Ohio. I mean, at best you have the Mohican State Park, where the Mohican 100 takes place.  Beside that, why would I want to make Ohio a mountain bike destination, when there are super cool systems closer to me. But then this past year, I began to see the trail work they had been putting in, religiously and tirelessly on FaceBook.  What I saw interested me:  rocks, creek crossings, and sweet ribbons of dirt. And when Dave Jolin mentioned doing it as a duo, and he could bring his RV to the venue, I decided to give the KSD (Knobby Side Down) crew a chance.

Comfort Camping

I arrived at Dave's house on a Wednesday and we then made the 1 1/2 hour drive over to the campground on Thursday.  We got in an afternoon ride on the old course, as this year's course was not yet marked.  It got a little slick finishing the lap up as the forecasted rain settled over the hills.  It was a nice respite from the sweltering heat and humidity.

Mother Nature dumped on us Thursday night, and I expected our pre-ride to be a sloppy mess. It was quite the opposite.  Without much rain in the week prior, the trails soaked up the water and there was only one puddle on the whole course. 

We rode the 7 mile lap and it was stupid fun.  It started out with about a 1/4 mile of riding through a field before hitting the single track, which then treated us with a fassst bermy descent followed by a couple rock gardens before dropping down to a creek and then straight up a freshly cut section that was still a little soft.  You really needed to be on your dropper and shifting game to flow through this technical section ... loved it! 

So perfectly built, no brakes necessary .. well, almost.

12-15% grade for 50 yards

This was then followed by some gradual climbing, all the while punching over rock sections here and there.  Then some more blazing fast trail that flowed amazingly well through some pitchy semi-rooty climbs.  And then into my favorite section, Eagle Hill.  This was the most technical portion of the course, about 1/2-3/4 mile of maneuvering through multiple rock gardens.

After that, it was more climbing up to the highest point of the course, where there was a lollipop section involving some two-way traffic along a double track.  The next section was a series of punchy climbs and steep descents  over elephant sized mounds of earth. The final mile was the Overlook Trail, which was a beautiful ribbon of sweet and fast single track.  It popped you out on a 1/4 mile double track climb back up to the finish.  

Finishing up the pre-ride, which included some openers spread throughout the course, I knew that if the forecasted evening rain held off, it was going to be a blazingly fast, yet interesting course, as there was so much variety.

Saturday morning, I awoke to a cool morning. We got lucky and the rain had moved north of us during the night.  Dave and I decided to race alternate laps, with him starting.  The start involved a 2 mile prologue to thin out the pack, coming back through the start/finish before heading out for the first course lap.  

With about 40 teams and 120 soloists, the field was a stout 140 racers at the start.  I expected Dave to have around a 50-55 minute first lap.

Dave's first lap, with the prologue, was 51:58.  I had warmed up by doing circles out in the field, so saw him approach, and made my way to the transition.  I knew at least 2 coed duo teams were ahead of us.  I set my sights on going ballistic on this lap and trying to catch them.  The legs had come to play today ... full on sparkle! I rode this lap like I was on a SS.  Standing and hammering every climb, TT'ing the flats, and focusing on using as little brake as possible on the descents.  I felt like Hammy the squirrel in Over The Hedge.  I may have went a little too fast through the rock gardens, seeing some pinball action, that had me right on the edge of losing control. I did manage to pass one coed woman, and upon finishing my lap in 40:29, saw another coed woman, who appeared to have finished her lap not too too long ago. Figured I gained at least a few minutes.

While Dave was out for his second, I took the time to eat, drink, and cool off by pouring cold water on my noggin.  Figuring Dave would be coming in after 40'ish minutes, I mosied on up to the transition area and pedaled around, waiting. Dave came in with a 39:46 lap, his fastest of the day. I was ready to turn out another hot lap, but the legs on that first climb said otherwise.  Ooof!  That hurt.  I had to take it a little easier and let my legs come back to me.  They finally did, but by then, the lap was almost over.  Still, my effort allowed me to catch a coed woman with about 2 miles remaining.  I finished my second lap in 41:24, giving Dave some breathing room.  At this point, I figured we in the top 3.  With internet connection being sketch in this area, the results were not quite online at this point.

I did my usual cool down while Dave was out there.  He was knocking out some stinking fast times, against men who were much younger; some young enough to be his son. I was super proud of him, as he has been training hard this year.  Jeff Rupnow, his coach, had him dialed for this race. Towards the end of his lap, the live results came online.  I opted to wait until I finished my third lap to check them out. Dave finished his second lap in 40:21.  But the woman on the team just ahead of us had gone out about 5 minutes prior to Dave's arrival.

Knowing I had almost caught her after my second lap, I now had this juicy carrot, more like a steak, to hunt down.  The legs came alive much quicker on this lap.  It still hurt, but I did get some respite, as this lap was a lot busier than my last, and I had to be patient in passing.  Despite being a little slower, I managed to catch the woman mid way through the lap.  She was off her bike, having spun out on a technical climb. I gave her words of encouragement as I employed my "pass, gap, and bury" technique.  I told her she was stronger than she thought and to dig deep and catch me.  I know how demoralizing it can be to be caught, and although I am super competitive, I also want to empower ALL women on bikes.

During the "bury" portion, I felt the pre-twinge in my medial quads.  Not wanting it to develop into a twinge, or full on cramp, after about 2 minutes of hammering, I slowed and settled.  Better, and good to know I was racing at my fullest.  I must have passed 15 racers on this lap.  Probably a good thing, as it saved me a match or two for my final lap.  I rolled into the tent with a 42:09 lap. I immediately went to cool off and take some ELMNT, knowing that I might have to bury myself on the last lap.

Once done with self care, including popping a 200mg caffeine pill, I strolled over to the timing area and uploaded the QR code for the live results.  Well done, Kenny!  Scoring has come a long way since the day of stop watch and notebook paper 😆.  Pulling the results up, I saw that we were in second!  Holy cow, Batman!  And less than a minute off the first place team, who I had not even realized that they wereyet another team out there, ahead of us, until just now.  And we were 7 minutes up on the team, who I had passed half way through this lap. The game was on now!

I went back to my tent.  While I was counting down the minutes, the woman I had passed earlier came up to me and thanked me for the encouragement I had given her.  She told me she was done; 3 was all she had in her. I said I knew she had one more in her. Insert foreshadowing here.  For whatever reason, this registered in my brain that her team was done after her team mate finished his next lap.

Dave had another stellar lap of 41:00.  I was ready to lay it all out there on my final one. The legs were ready and willing ... shoot yeah!  I crushed this final lap, letting body memory take over, now knowing every turn, climb, and rock, and root. I knew there was a possibility that the second place team would pass me, since it was the man who was doing the final lap (the woman was doing double laps).  So when I heard a racer fast approaching around mile 4, I figured he had caught me.  When I let him around, I realized it was the 3rd place team, with the man doing the final lap (his 5th). Shocked was soon replaced by anger.  I would be lying if I said that I didn't wish any bad juju on him.  I did my best to try to stay with him, but he was just too strong.  I never gave up, as I knew the other fella was just behind me.

Despite turning myself inside out on this last lap, the second place guy caught me with less than a mile to the finish.  Out of respect, I let him around.  He sent me some good vibes and actually said that I was real competition.  I ended up finishing the lap in 41:22, my second fast lap of the day.  I was only 45 seconds behind him.  

I was stoked with Dave and my performance.  I even managed to snag the fastest woman's lap.  But I was a little miffed by what the winning team did.  Yet I cannot fault them, as the rule was not specific: "members of duo teams must complete close to even amount of laps."  To me, as well as the other coed teams, this meant equal or within 1 lap of each other.  I guess 5 and 3 are "close," but not fair, in the spirit of dirt. But if that is what it took for them to win, I guess that it is racin'.  It's not like there was a prize purse or anything.  We did get these cool podium posters tho'.

I want to thank Kenny and his crew for creating such an amazing course ... hard to believe this much fun was had on the trail in Ohio, of all states.  And Dave, for once again being an awesome team mate.  If I get the opportunity, I would love to do this one again.  Kenny said the rules would be revised next year.  

5/5 stars!

Lumberjack 100

📷:  Rob Meendering

The lumberjack 100 is a 100 mile bike race in the Manistee National Forest close to Lake Michigan and the town of Manistee.  It is 3  31 mile laps plus a 4 mile prologue. 94% of it is on single track, with the remainder being sandy double track, and a bit of pavement on the 5 mile prologue lap.  The single track is mostly smooth and flowy, meandering through the Big M trail system.

Back in 2011, this was my first single speed race, aboard my 2009 aluminum Specialized Stumpjumper 29'r HT.  I rode a 32 x 19 and  won the SS division with a time of 8:15 and was 5th overall.  I know "comparison is the thief of joy," but I challenged myself to try to finish in 8:30.

Jenny was sweet enough to leave a personal message on the back of my race plate

This time I was aboard my Trek SuperCaliber, which I had recently converted to SS with a Paul Melvin tensioner.  I chose to ride one gear easier, with a 32 x 20.  After all, I am 13 years older.  It still felt like I was on a 32 x 19 😄.

32 x 20

I was lucky enough to score a room at Christina and Scott's house for the race.  Only 20 minutes from the venue, a comfy bed, and awesome company.  Christina was also racing SS.

Wake up was 4 am.  Early for most, but I usually arise from bed around 5:30 am, so no big deal.  After washing down a home made pop tart and 3 hard boiled eggs with a mug of Christopher Bean Coffee, I drove over and prepared my pit area underneath the Quiring Cycles tent.

Although initially I had seeded myself in Wave 2 (expected finish time of 8-10 hours), I switched to Wave 1 after talking to Christina.  She told me that last year, she got stuck behind WAY more people after spinning her brains out on the prologue and being one of the last to hit the beginning of the single track.  Which then made for a long party train, once the geared people started getting bogged down on the climbs.

The start went off at 7 am.  The 4.2 mile prologue lap was 2.1 miles on pancake flat pavement, followed by 2 miles on pancake flat double track, and then finishing up with 0.1 miles on single track leading to the first lap. All of us single speeders were quickly spit out the back, butts bouncing on our saddles as we tried to hit 130 rpm's.  I could tell I had the easiest gear, as the other ladies were able to spin ahead of me.  I knew that going into the race and that the first lap was gonna feel too easy.  That was my plan, as I wanted to not burn any matches right off the bat.

When I hit the double track, I was not paying attention and soon got stalled out into some deep sand.  I watched the first through fourth ladies get away from me, as they took a much better line.  Grrr!  Passing by the pit area and now on single track, I was back in my realm.  I caught up to the fourth place woman and passed her when the track widened.

Although there were a lot of racers ahead of me, the speeds were fast ... until we hit the first climb around mile 5.  Although these climbs are tiny by my standards, it brought the race to a complete standstill. WTF?!? While I knew that there would be some party trains on this first lap, I wasn't expecting to come to a complete stop. Patience, grasshopper!  I left my frustrations on the side of the trail, as I have been doing this long enough to know that getting mad does not help at all.

FAST!

There was one more standstill, as people struggled on the second uphill, especially when they encountered a diagonal raised root 😱.  For much of the first lap, I was behind people, biding my time.  I would usually pass on a climb, when they would get bogged down in their granny gear.  But there were a few sections of flat double track ... and then they would pass me right back😠.  Towards the end of the first lap, I was finally able to ride in my own little bubble, as racers began to fade.

4 miles of double track per lap

Coming through the first lap (2:45 + 0:16 for the prologue), I stopped at my pit. Scott helped me to refill my hydration pack and gel flasks.  I opted for a 50 ounce hydration pack filled with Skratch super high carb and 1 bottle 1/2 way filled with LMNT. I also carried a gel flask filled with Torq gel.  Although I have 2 bottle cages, that was not going to be enough fluid to get me through a lap.  And I did not want to have to stop at the aid station mid-way through the lap.

I found my flow on the second lap.  I had plenty of energy and open trail in front of me.  The trail was getting a little loose in the corners and stutter bumps were beginning to form on some of the curvy descents. I was able to tuck in behind some geared racers on the double track and draft a little. Everyone played nice when I was the passer and passee. Midway through this lap, I caught the 3rd place SS woman.  Giving words of encouragement as I rode by, I still stuck with my "pass, gap, and bury" mantra.  Coined by ultra runner Sally McCrae, it means that once you make the pass, dig deep for about 2 minutes to get a gap, which will hopefully allow you to bury them in the process.  

I rolled into my pit area (2:45), repeating the process from lap 1. As Scott was helping me swap out my hydration pack, he told me that if I leave now, I would be 2nd SS, as Jill was still in her pit area.  That was a nice surprise!  Headed out on my final lap, with iced down Skratch in my pack, I was ready to finish this thing!  This lap was hard, as the hills seemed to be growing in number and height.  The trail was also getting more blown out and some of the stutter bumps on the descents were 29'r wheel deep! 

On laps 1 and 2, there was only one hill, in the middle, that I had to walk a 20 yard section.  On lap 3, I walked a short section of a hill, about 2/3 into the lap as well. Near the end of the lap, there are countdown mile markers, beginning with 4 miles to go.  Well, lemme tell you, I looked for the 4 mile sign for 4 miles!  Where the hell are you?  Maybe around this corner, maybe at the top of this hill, OMG!  Finally, I saw it.  This gave me renewed vigor. There were also two geared racers in front of me that made me push hard towards the finish line.  

I came through the finish with a time of 8:35 (2:49 for the lap).  Good enough for 2nd SS and 7th women O/A. 

📷: Rob Meendering

I am happy to have been in a field of 12 badass SS women, the largest in Lumberjack's history.  Congrats to Kristy to winning, the first time she raced SS. Thanks to all the wonderful volunteers and to co-directors Matt and Jenny Acker.  The post race meal was wonderfully good and the podium prizes are worthy of using.

Congrats, podium finishers!

Rope Mill 1/2 Marathon

 

This was the last race in the Mountain Goat Adventures Trail Run Series.  I almost did not get to run, as I was sidelined the past 10 days with plantar fasciitis in my right foot. How this happened I do not know, but I seem to play a lot of running injury bingo these days.  Fortunately I had no pain after a 5k run the Wednesday before the race.  Unfortunately, I had not been doing any run training the past 3 weeks.

The forecast was looking iffy; a slight chance of some thunderstorms.  It was a sticky 65 degrees at the start.  I did an extensive warm up, working out all my niggles (low back, right hamstring, right hip joint capsule).  The body felt pretty good considering my issues.  This was the largest of the 4 events, with 29 women in the field and 7 in my age group.

Adele was there and we chit-chatted while waiting for go-time, trying to calm the nerves. At 8 am, the gun went off, and I took off mid-pack towards the Mill Trails.  This section was wide and flowy.  I soon decided to pass a handful of women, as the legs were feeling fresh.  Adele was right on my heels as we made our way around them.

The first 2 miles went by quickly and I saw my heart rate in the high 160/low 170 range.  Settle, I told myself, and backed it off, as I knew this was unsustainable.  Not wanting to hold Adele back, as she was gonna try for a 2 hour goal, I let her around me. I was able to let it go on the descents, allowing the momentum to pull me up some of the climbs. 

I finished up the Mills section (4.3 miles) in 39 minutes.  Continuing onto the Explorer Trails, I stopped briefly at the aid station and downed a cup of Heed. Not long afterwards, I caught sight of a woman not too far behind me.  Over the next mile, she appeared to be gaining.  I expected her to pass me at anytime, especially when I stopped at the aid station again.  But the pass never came.  Towards the end of this loop, I lost sight of her.  Had she blown up?  Or was she gonna catch me in the next section?  I finished this loop (3.3 miles) in 35 minutes.

The Avalanche section saw me slowing down, as I began to feel the fatigue, and the slight twinges of soreness in my quads on the descents.  I tried to block out those feelings by focusing on the "carrots" in front of me.  There was a big, tall muscular fella in front of me, with strides twice as long as mine.  But he must have been carrying 100 more pounds than I.  This jerked me out of my "woe is me and my sore quads" mode.

I had made it to the 3rd loop of Avalanche, when the skies began to darken and I heard thunder off in the distance.  I stopped at the aid station and drank some more Heed.  Once I started onto the remaining portion of the 2nd loop, I had 1 1/2 miles to go.  The rumbles of thunder got louder and now the skies were so dark, it was hard to see the roots in the trail.  The rain started, slowly at first.  With about 1 mile to go, the lightning began cracking close enough to me that I forgot all about my trashed quads.  Adrenalin carried me that final mile.  Coming down the embankment, the skies opened up with a torrential downpour.  I made it across the finish line and immediately ran under the scoring tent. My finishing time was 2:12.  The final loop was 5.4 miles in 58 minutes.

I ended up being a handful of runners that completely finished the course.  Due to safety concerns since this weather cell looked brutal on the weather map, Lisa made the executive decision to short course  a good portion of the runners, cutting them off from doing the 3rd loop on Avalanche.

I ended up 1st AG and 3rd O/A.  Adele came close to her goal with a 2:09.

I was happy with my performance, but without being able to run much leading up to this race, my quads were angry for the next 5 days!  You know, sore enough that the process of sitting down on the toilet was painful.

PMBAR

Another PMBAR, another year of 100% weather, as maniacal race promoter Eric Wever likes to say. Rain and thunderstorms were forecast for the race's entirety.  This has seemed to be the theme for my '24 race season.  Although the aging side of me was thinking, "I am too old too have to put up with this sh!t,"  the masochistic side of me was wanting a beat down in the gladiator arena of Pisgah.  For me, the best way to enjoy the suck is to embrace it.  After all, it does eventually end, and then I can ride that "high" for a few days.

Smooshie photobombing the Terrific Trio 

Having put Lisa to the friendship test at last year's PMBAR with a hellish trek through no man's land of South Mills River, there is no one I would rather suffer through a day on the bike than the Princess of Pain.  I was even able to twist David's arm to join us as an embedded photographer/videographer. No need to wonder if he was an asset to our team; he had no part in navigation (we might still be out there if we let him advise on route choice).

At 8 am, under threatening skies, Eric released the passports.  It was a stampede to get to them, grab one before the box was emptied, and then hopscotch over bikes to get back to Lisa. After roughly 7 minutes of plotting CP's and determining a route choice that included all 5, we started up the 4 mile 2500 foot climb up Black Mountain to Turkey Pen. My legs felt like poop and my heart rate soared with the effort. I suppose I had not recovered from last weekend's War Daddy.  Oh, how I remember when back to back weekends of racing was not a big deal. At least it was not raining ... yet.

Turkey Pen was in the best shape I have ever ridden.  Despite the 10+ downed trees and occasional clumps of rhodo whackers, we made good time, as the trail was dry and fast.  Even the HAB's were pleasant, as I am used to pushing up them through mud. Avah and Hayden rolled up on us.  She told me she was glad to see me; it made her feel like Hayden and her made a good route choice to the first CP.  Unfortunately, they lost a considerable chunk of time heading down Wagon Gap Trail ... and then back up it, once they realized it was a prohibited trail.  Shoulda stayed behind us slower, but wiser folk, just a wee bit longer, Avah. 😉

Enjoyment along Turkey Pen

South Mills was WAY more enjoyable this year, as we opted out of the Purgatory section.  We were seeing a lot of racers coming our way, which led me to briefly question our route choice.  I quickly dismissed any self-doubt, as I felt pretty comfortable navigating the forest, after 10+ years of riding/racing here.  As the trail narrowed on a blind curve, I almost nailed a dude coming the other way, as I slid in a sandy section, trying to avoid him.  Our bars touched briefly, but we both managed to stay upright. I surely did not need to uselessly waste adrenalin here.

Map Check   📷: DJ

After nabbing the CP (time to was 2:40), we decided to stay on South Mills and then head up Cantrell Creek to Squirrel.  My only memory of the new Cantrell was when I descended it shortly after it was put into service. I remember it being flowy and smooth.  So then easy climb then, right?  My thought process was that backtracking on South Mills to Mullinax to Squirrel might be a tad bit shorter, but with more climbing; essentially 6 one way, 1/2 dozen the other.

Halfway up Cantrell, the rain started.  It was light at first, but as the drops started coming down faster and heavier, I donned my shower cap.  I was trying to appease the war lords of the rain clouds by showing respect.  It worked (for awhile), as the rain stopped at the intersection of Cantrell and Squirrel. It was just enough rain to make all 15 million roots on Squirrel slick as when I was a young'un trying to help my Mom out by cleaning our wood floors with Pledge.

Squirrel

Arriving at the CP at Squirrel (time to was 1:02), we decided to hedge our bets and take Laurel Creek down to Bradley, despite Eric's warning of downed trees.  Last year, it was also super thick in underbrush, but since we were descending it this year, I wasn't too concerned about that factor.

Lisa under biking on her gen 1 SuperCaliber

Laurel Creek was in the best shape ever.  There was only one large blowdown we had to climb through/over. Someone had sprayed the vegetation with Agent Orange's little brother, RoundUp.  In year's past, I have had to cross fingers and toes as I blindly sent it downward through thickets of brush.  Now I could see the occasional baby head or stick in the trail and avoid potential catastrophe.  Dave wasn't so lucky as he flatted here, but quickly managed to plug it and catch back up to us as we were filtering water from Bradley Creek.

Bradley Creek crossing # 2  📷: DJ

Once we regrouped, we began the 13+ creek and 30+ downed tree crossings on Bradley.  I thought that THIS would be the perfect place to have a sawyer certification class.  Easily accessed by FS 1206 and plenty of water should the students get parched.  Once we popped out onto the gravel, Lisa and I had a decision to make:  go for 4 or all 5 CP's.  While I was secretly hoping she would say 5, I also knew the risk to go for 5 would be high.  I did not attempt to change her mind at all when she responded with 4.  Attempting to get the 5th, which would be the Pilot Cove CP, would probably take close to the amount of time bonus (2 hours) that we would receive for getting 5.  So essentially nullifying any time gains while the potential for bad things to happen would exponentially increase as we became more fatigued.

After popping a 200mg caffeine pill, we headed out on FS1206 over to Laurel Mountain.  I think Lisa almost cried in sheer joy at the sight of the grilled cheese oasis.  Man, they looked scrumptious ... if only I didn't have celiac disease 😒.  Waiting patiently for the zoomies I was hoping the caffeine would give me, I slowly made my way up Laurel.  Once again, it was quite pleasant with dry conditions. Even though my legs had come around initially on Turkey Pen, they felt like poop again.  But mentally I was in a good state, so just enjoyed the riding ... and walking. 

Rolling into the Laurel Mountain CP  📷: DJ

After punching our passport (3:43 time to), I was ready to go.  Why were Lisa and Dave wanting to go back down Laurel and not over to Pilot?  They motioned me over to them.  And then they asked me where I was going.  Down Pilot, I replied.  That's this way, pointing in the opposite direction.  Talk about brain dead; I had somehow gotten turned around and my bearings all out of whack.  Apparently that caffeine pill was a dud.

We still had quite a bit more climbing up to Pilot, including that stairway to heaven HAB.  Good gawd!  Maybe that's why my brain tried to trick me earlier, trying to avoid this calf killer.  Finally, at the top of Pilot, Lisa told me just to go. We would meet at the creek to filter again and I could be studying our map for the final push over to Club Gap, while on I waited on her. Halfway down Pilot, it started to rain.  By the time I reached the creek crossing at the bottom, it was pouring.  I shouldn't have taken off my shower cap back at the Squirrel CP.  I quickly put it and my 13 gallon Glad trash bag on.  Lisa pulled up as I was filtering water.  I looked at the map, just to reinforce my game plan over to Club.

It was nice to be on gravel for a change.  This year, both FS5015 and FS5016 were off limits, making the race much more trail heavy.  The rains had turned the roads into small streams. My glasses were sprayed with mud, making visibility challenging.  We almost blew by the oasis towards the end of FS475B. Not expecting a cornucopia of food/drink along with the wonderful attitudes of the two women manning the station, this was a big morale boost.  I snacked on some chips and a Coke.  I even got to meet Bumpus, the traveling cactus.  His owner, whose name I can't remember, takes the little guy everywhere with her ... absolutely hilariously awesome!

Bumpus and his human.

A little slice of heaven!

South Mills was a slog.  By now, it had been raining for 30 minutes and we were pedaling upstream.  This section is long enough when dry and fast; now it was wearing on me.  The climb up Upper Black was merciless.  My legs were spent: the fatigue was to the point where my high end game was gone.  Roots that I could have easily powered over were now a cyclocross maneuver.  The descent down black to the Club Gap CP was treacherous at high speed.  I rode slower than I wanted to, keeping in the front of my mind that I had my daughter's college graduation to attend in 3 days.  Don't f*ck that up!

Club Gap CP, notice the river on the trail. 📷: DJ

Time to Club was 2:20. The volunteer gave us some great beta that ended up saving a bit of time and mileage.  Apparently that roadbed off to the left halfway down Avery leads right over to Clawhammer.  I had always wondered about that "trail."  Now I know and am glad I asked him about the shortest way back to the finish.

Despite the deluge of rain, Avery wasn't that bad. The connector to Clawhammer was quite spongy and slow.  Dave's tire was losing air again; he had to pump it up a few times already.  He made the smart decision to just ride down Clawhammer to the road and head back to the finish that way. Lisa and I made our way over to Maxwell Cove, riding through stretches of puddles and surfing the mud.  

I stopped to pee at the intersection.  Lisa pulled up and said that for the past 10 miles or so, she thought she was just feeling bad and/or I had taken another caffeine pill.  She got off her bike, spun the rear wheel ... and it didn't even make a quarter turn before it stopped.  The rear brake was frozen; the pads would not retract and so it felt like she was dragging an anvil behind her.

The climb up Maxwell was her death sentence. I felt awful for her, not knowing if there was a trailside fix.  I mean, had we known earlier, I would have said to just remove the rear brake pads and ride the remainder with just a front brake.  I did mention that on Maxwell, but she wasn't too confident she could make it down Black that way.

Those last few miles were at a snail's pace; it cost us a good bit of time.  But I can only imagine what she would have had to go through had we opted to get the 5th CP on Pilot Cove.  The descent on Black was extra spicy.  We managed to survive unscathed and rolled through the finish line 10 hours 40 minutes after we started our adventure, with 9100 feet of climbing.  I beg to differ with that number, as last year we had the same mileage, but 11,000 feet of climbing.  I think the weather played games with our barometric readings.

Photobomber's expression says it all!

We went straight to Davidson River and washed enough mud off our bodies that would violate the EPA's Clean Water Act.

Mud ... in ... every ... orifice!

We ended up 2nd in the women's division.  The two badlasses that beat us last year got us again this year.  They nabbed all 5, getting that 2 hour time bonus, and beating us by 19 minutes.  Much respect to Caroline and Ellie for getting all 5, as I think they may be the first female team to do that.

Thank you Lisa and Dave for playing bikes with me.  I had a blast ... I think.

War Daddy

This would be my third time racing this amazing course.  Last year, I was nursing an MCL tear and raced Sandlin's Shred, kid brother to the marquee event.  Morgan Faber ended up with the W in the War Daddy, and took the WWII helmet home.  I was determined to fight to get the helmet back this year.

At 68 miles and 9000 feet of gain, this course is a beast! Although it is a mix of pavement, gravel, double track, moto trail, and single track, 96% of the racers ride a mountain bike.  There are 5 punchy climbs that will have you crying for your momma, with pitches tipping north of 15%. And the further into the race you get, the harder the terrain becomes.

I was coming off a half marathon trail race the previous weekend.  That put me at 5 races out of the last 6 weekends. While not fully recovered, my legs felt decent. This course can have hellacious mud holes in the past, swallowing up racers that have dared to charge through them. But with very little rain leading up to the race, the course was sure to be the fastest yet.  David Jolin and Alan Miner, two Rescue Racing team mates, were also here to join in the fray.

The starting temperature was 60 degrees. This year's event had 132 racers total, with 90 toe'ing the line for War Daddy, including 7 women, the biggest field yet.  I opted to ride Taz, my gen 2 SuperCaliber, with 2.2 Trek Sainte-Anne tires. Trevor called the start by shot gunning a beer. We were led out by a side by side through the town of Hyden, for 5 miles.  This was a great chance for my engine to warm up.

At the 7 mile mark, the first climb of the day, Owl's Nest, began.  This was a 1 1/2 mile paved climb.  There were several women who took off fast. Knowing my limits, I marked them as they began to pull away. Towards the top, I was able to bring two back and make a pass.  I knew Julie "the mountain goat" Durkee, was still ahead, but hoping I could reel her back in on the descent. The back side of Owl's Nest turned to loose gravel.  It was nice to have a dropper this year, allowing me to gain just that little bit extra speed, while just maintaining enough traction to not fly off the mountain. I did catch up to Julie and made the pass on a clean stretch.

The descent was followed by a series of rollers, which had my legs begging for a little mercy.  Not quite how I wanted to feel so early into the day.  Fortunately, I was able to bridge up to a group of 8-10 racers and we had the most beautifully orchestrated double pace line along the river leading to War Baby.  Free miles ... all smiles!  The group broke up at the first aid station at mile 20.  At mile 21, the War Baby climb began, 1.2 miles straight up to the heavens. It starts off paved, but that pavement has not seen any love in many years and is beginning to break up. Towards the top, it turns to good ole Kentucky chunk, that will have you walking if you are not on your A game.  For some reason, it seemed to have grown in steepness.  It was all I could do to muster out 50 rpm's. 

After a short bit of tame ridge riding, the course descended down a creek bed for 1.5 miles.  Employing Trevor Tip #1:  see the line, become the line, and stay the line ... that line being the flowing water!  I felt the flow and set a PR on this section, passing several racers in the process.  Catching my breath on the short flat'ish gravel/sand section, I prepared myself for War Dwarf.

War Dwarf is the longest climb of the day, at a little over 2 miles.  Today I was on the rivet; definitely not able to employ Trevor Tip #2: hard charge it.  Let's just say that my granny gear got a good work out. Finally topping out, I clicked down a few gears and enjoyed the Hell for Certain descent.  It starts off with a short bit of gravel, makes a hard right, and then buttery smooth single lane pavement down, down, down!  Four miles of mostly descending made the legs happy again.

The Twist N Sourwood is a 2 mile climb, but not as steep.  This is a beautiful section of the course with several rock formations along the road.  It seemed to be in rougher shape this year or perhaps it was because I was already in the pain cave at this point. I had my first low moment.  Alan Miner caught me and passed me, as I floundered in his wake. 

At the top around mile 32 was aid station 2. I stopped just long enough to swap bottles and have my glasses cleaned.  At the last moment, I also decided to drink a few ounces of pickle juice, a first for me. The next section was Grannie's Branch:  5 miles of ridge rollers followed by a sweet 2 mile descent.  As I was getting into a groove on this section, the War Daddy media crew rolled up to me in a side by side and started filming.  So of course, I had to get on the gas pretending to chase down Sofia Gomez Villafane 😆

I was glad they were there to amp me up as the next few miles seemed to fly by.  After the descent off Grannie's Branch was my least favorite section.  5 flat miles of pavement, into a headwind, and no other soul around.  Back on the struggle bus I went.  Around mile 44 is aid station 3.  Not needing to stop here, I was motoring on by when I saw Morgan (last year's winner) standing there cheering me on!  Later, as she and I were talking post race, she said she was so glad I caught her because then she could finally take it down a notch! 

Well now I needed to kick into another gear.  Pass, gap, and bury quickly became my mantra. I don't know if I truly ramped it up or not, but those last couple of flattish miles felt like I was punched in the face.

Creek crossing just before the War Daddy climb

After I crossed the creek, I knew War Daddy was looming just ahead.  Mustering up every ounce of fortitude, I imagined I was absolutely crushing this 1 mile loose double track climb with an average gradient of 11%.  Even though I was going at snail's pace, I still managed to pass a few who had given up on pedaling and were now walking.  When you think you are finally at the top, there is still a fare bit of climbing left as the course continues to roll, but in an upward fashion.

Just get me to that new 1.5 mile single track section.  Last year, it was a bit slimy and with my injury, I had to baby my way through it.  But today, dry and injury-free, I was determined to slay it!  Boy, was it a hoot!  So fast, I was at the limit of what my eyes could process.  However bad I may have been hurting on the gravel leading up to this, once I hit that ribbon of bliss, I had renewed energy.  So ... much ... fun!  I was sad to see it end.

Back out on the gravel, I made my way over to the final aid station at mile 55.  There I stopped, refilled one bottle, and took a gel.  I forgot to hit another shot of pickle juice (foreshadowing). The last 13 miles are filled with 6 miles of moto trail and another 6 miles of riding through a reclaimed mine, the profile of which both look like Paul Bunyan's cross cut saw.  

Through the trail, I played a game of cat/mouse with several racers, one being Al Wade, a single speeder who looked like a linebacker.  Her initially blew by me like he had just been unleashed right at the beginning of the trail.  So strong I thought he might end up turning his machine into a pretzel he was churning out so many watts!  Along with a couple of others, I would catch them on the climbs/HAB's and they would catch back up on the descents.  Although mostly dry, there were a couple of mud bogs that I tip-toe'd around.  One fella ended up kerplunking knee deep after he tried skirting around the edge.  

The two HAB's I embraced and smashed!  Thanks to Honcho, all these hikes/runs we have been on has really solidified my bike walking skills.  After the first HAB, when I got back on the bike and turned the pedals over, and flexed my left hip, my left groin cramped!  No, no, no, I cried out, threw it immediately into granny and spun it out. It was touch and go for awhile, as I could feel that muscle wanting to seize.  Fortunately, I was able to mitigate it by keeping that leg extended whenever I had a chance to coast.

Once I saw the abandoned gas grill, I knew the exit to the trail was near.

Even though I knew knew knew that the chunky mining road was a never ending one and seeing the mileage on my Garmin, I still expected to see the final descent around each and every corner 😝😝😝.  Normally my Garmin reads a mile or so short of the actual GPX tract, but no, not this time.  So hopeful that it might be only 67 miles, once I hit that number, I was still climbing.  And so I let out the obligatory "GD it!" followed up immediately by "Lord, I apologize for that there" -- Larry the Cable Guy.

Most of the mud holes along the mining road had ride arounds, save for one.  And of course I chose the wrong side.  Trevor and some other members of the TrailSick crew were there for photo ops.  I chose the right side because at least I could see tire tracks.  There used to be a ride around to the right, but it was overgrown with briars.  I ended up getting off the bike as my tires sunk to their rims in mud.  Not wanting to risk tipping over into the muddy waters on my left, I told the boys that I was being a princess about this one, to which they laughed.  Trevor also responded "You're almost there."  How many times have I heard that in a race?  Calling BS on that, I proceeded to get back up to speed and shed the 5 pounds of mud that had accumulated on my tires.

Off in the distance, I saw Alan.  Sweet, he was gonna be my carrot for the last few miles.  Slowly I began to bridge up to him, fighting for every watt as my body was screaming "STOP!"  Finally I could see the final descent.  Hallelujah!  Although a lot more blown out than usual, I still crushed it, catching Alan, and then passing him.  My goal was to finish under 6, a far cry from my previous two times, but nonetheless, I wanted to leave it all out there.  And I did. 

I rolled in at 5:55:38.  I do believe I saw double for a brief moment after I stopped.  Despite the course being in the best condition ever, that was the hardest one to date for me.  No doubt a combination of the amount of racing I had done leading into it plus the fact that I ain't getting any younger.  Even though I was slower, this one was the most rewarding.  For I had pushed my body harder than ever and for the most part, it responded.

Morgan rolled in shortly after and then the kid, Claire, absolutely crushed her 2023 time by over an hour and claimed the third spot.  And, she is only 14!  Holy smokes, so inspiring.  At her age, I thought a 5k race was hard!

Reclaimed the helmet

Once again, a huge shout out to the John Maggard and his army of volunteers who put on a hell of a race ... and an afterparty with never ending home cooked food, overflowing kegs of beer, and enjoying the company of others, telling war stories of their day by camp fire.

Big Frog Half Marathon

Who da thunk I would skip a mountain bike race on Saturday to run a foot race on Sunday?  Ten years ago, running was not even on my radar.  Today, it is a regular part of my fitness routine, along with lifting heavy sh!t.  Part of that is just wanting to new challenges, and part of it is because of Honcho.

Today was the third race in Mountain Goat Adventures Trail Running Series.  It was held at the Ocoee Whitewater Center. It was drizzling and 46 degrees when I arrived and pretty much stayed that way the entirety of the race.  I was not too enthused, as I have been dealing with a 3 week hamstring injury.  How I got it, I do not know ... at my age now, I probably rolled over wrong in my sleep.  But seriously, it probably has something to do with my ongoing grumpy L4-L5 facet joint, which has been plaguing me on and off for the past 5 years.  

After a 20 minute bundled up warm up, I stripped down to a T-shirt and shorts.  At 8:30 am, Lisa released us and we began with an immediate climb up Bear Paw.  I went by both perceived exertion and heart rate, keeping myself in the low to mid-tempo range.  I stayed conservative, as the trail was wet and the roots and rocks were slick.  The last thing I wanted to happen was to further injure myself and say good-bye to my upcoming races War Daddy and PMBAR.  Today was all about good training and not aggravating my hammy.

I saw Zeke as I turned onto Lower Chestnut.  He was a course marshal and told me that I was second woman and 6th overall at this point.  Still, so many miles to go.  With that initial 1.5 mile climb, I was perfectly comfortable and the body was feeling good.  I did get passed by a group of guys midway through this section; I was just glad  to be by myself at this point, as I had paced them up the mountain.

I am a terrible descender, so Thunder Rock was meh.  I tip-toed across both bridges as they were skating rinks.  At the bottom, I took a cup of water and a gel.  Then began a 2.7 mile climb back up the mountain.  Running back up the mountain felt good.  All body parts were happy; I was happy.  It was good for my soul to be in the forest.

I stopped at the second aid station and repeated.  The Quartz Loop was a little tricky as the single track was tight; half-track in places, which made for focused foot placement.  Once I was on Bypass, there was only a little more climbing to go and then I could "send it" back down to the finish.  Back on Chestnut, I wanted to go fast, but I kept the strides short.  I did not want to trash the quads, fearing this could affect next weekend's race, the War Daddy.  I kept it chill, passed by Zeke, who was walking up and down his posted area, trying to stay warm.

Once on Bear Paw it was about a mile to the finish.  At this point, I opened it up a bit and kept saying out loud, "Pick up your feet."  So close to the finish, I did not want to trip now.  I came through the finish line with a time of 2:24.   Prior to my grumpy hammy, I had hoped to run close to 2:05-2:10.  Yeah, I was a little frustrated at being slow, but I had to keep the long game in the picture.  This running thing is not my primary goal.  I am doing it for funsies.

Adele schooled me today with a time of 2:05 that gave her a 5th overall.  It is going to be an exciting final at Rope Mill next month ... I hope.  I just need to get this ischial tuberosity/hamstring attachment inflammation thingy resolved.

Thanks to Mountain Goat Adventures once again for a fun day.  I am slowly collecting enough Fleet Feet gift cards to buy a new pair of shoes.  And I have a good Ka'Chava stock for my lunch time smoothies.

Chattanooga Epic 10 Hour Adventure Race

This race is put on by Warrior Races.  There was also a 30 hour race.  I chose this one to come out from under Lisa Randall's wing and race it solo.  I had only done 2 other adventure races, both with Lisa, who was the navigator. Even though I am familiar with the Chattanooga area, I was more nervous going into this event than I was when I took the SAT! Normally I sleep well the night before a race; well, not this one. I had even gone down the Thursday prior and ridden the last few miles of the course to the finish, along the River Walk just to bolster my confidence.

River Walk

For the 10 hour race, an experiment was being performed by the race director.  We were allowed to use GPS as an aid.  This was in hopes of encouraging newbies to come out and give adventure racing a go.  A phone was a mandatory gear requirement, so I brought mine along.  I did not use it for anything other than taking pictures.  

We were given the race schematic a few days prior.  I love this kind of homework.  By using this I was able to prepare my gear choices.  I did have a paddle bag, in which I placed paddles, PFD, and a dry bag full of extra shoes, socks, base layer, and hydration pack for the trek and bike.

We were bussed to the start, near Suck Creek, and the race began at 8 am.  Starting temperature was 39 degrees, but felt much cooler with the wind coming off the river.  I was wearing a heavy weight wool baselayer, my Rescue Racing cycling kit, and rain jacket/pants.  I had chemical warmers in my gloves and shoes.  I was perfectly comfortable, temperature-wise, with all these layers.

I was second in the water, but by the time I hit the first CP, half the field had passed me.  I equate paddling to the swimming portion of a triathlon ... it sucks!  I felt like my kayak had a "flat."  No one else passed me as I made my way to CP2.  As I was reaching up to punch my card, my left calf knotted up in a major cramp!  Which lasted 4-5 minutes, as I continued on in the paddle.  Good Gawd, what brought that on!  I cannot remember the last time I cramped in a race.

The paddle take out was near the Pot Point Cabin and the beginning of the Ritchie Hollow Trail.  I stripped off my rain gear and changed into my trekking shoes. I got out my map for this portion and marked the CP's.  Then I took off.  CP3 was a drainage.  I elected to attack from the road and climbed mostly on all four's to reach it.

From there I continue to climb upward until I hit the trail.  All together it was about a 100 meter climb straight the F up!  I was no further than 100 meters when I realized that my satellite tracker was on my PFD.  F me!  Not wanting to beg forgiveness later and also to play by the rules, I ran back down the trail to the paddle take out and grabbed it.  Then retraced my steps back up to the CP.  I climbed that MF'ing drainage twice ... ouch! That rookie mistake cost me 12 minutes.

I was now almost in dead last place.  But I was ok with that, heck I even embraced this extra challenge.  I mean, the weather was warming up, the sun was out, and I was playing in the woods.  What more could a girl ask for? 

Ritchie Hollow Trail took me to the next CP, Blowing Wind Falls.  Stunning!  I punched my card and continued my way up the mountain, passing teams left and right.  I even did a little bushwhacking, trying to gain back those minutes I lost.  Not sure if that was the right idea, but I had fun doing it.

Checkpoint 4

Once I grabbed CP5, I took a time check. I decided to skip CP 6 (Ransom Overlook), as I figured it would take 25 minutes. Next I hit CP7, then CP9, bushwhacked (more like butt slid) down to the trail and did an out and back to grab CP8 at Snooper's Rock.

CP8 doesn't get any better!

From there I ran along the Pot Point Loop Trail and then back down Richie Hollow.  Oof!  I don't know what was worse:  running up it or down it.  The volunteer at the paddle TA told me I was the 4th one to get back on the water.  Holy smokes, I made up a lot of time.  Guess I can run and navigate.

After stowing my gear and cramming a bag of potato chips down my gullet, I hopped back in the kayak for the 4 mile paddle to the base of Raccoon.  Tortuous with the head wind.  I never thought I would see the large steel circular object (hydroelectric turbine?) near the boat ramp.  It still took another 10 minutes to get there.  

Susie and Jim were there to greet me. I took a few minutes to organize, pee, change shoes, mark the bike CP's on the map, and refill my CamelBak.  I rode up the pavement, and did an out and back to grab CP14 on Live Wire 2.

CP14

I then climbed up Live Wire 1, which at this point, my legs were definitely feeling the prior trek and all the elevation gain and scrambling.  CP18 was "top of large boulders" in the Chunky free riide area.  Hell, all of Chunky has large boulders!  It did help that the foliage wasn't full out and I spotted it from afar.

I continued in a CCW direction, grabbing the one at the Switchyard fence line next. It was attached to the fence with large warning signs (high voltage).  Plastic is not a conductor, right 😬?  After I nabbed CP17 at the overlook on Small Intestine, I did a little bike whacking to avoid riding this trail in its entirety. 

CP17

Getting to CP18 required getting shredded by the briar thickets.  CP 12 was along Grindstone Ridge.  Once I acquired CP11 on Megawatt, I did another time check.  Trying to go for the one on High Voltage would be risky, as I would be cutting it super close to the 6pm time cut off.  So I opted NOT to go for it, which would give me a nice buffer to get to the finish.  At this point, I wish my brain would have realized that had I bike whacked up to CP11, and then continued to bike whack in a southeasterly direction, I could have cut off about 0.6 miles of trail. 

At the end of Megawatt, I hit the connector to the Laurel Point Road and then made my way to Electric Avenue Trail, where I grabbed CP13.  I now had 90 minutes to get to the finish.  I made my way down to Elder Mountain Road, took a right, blasted down off the mountain, and took a right on Isbill Road.  This led me to Kelly's Ferry Road, where I picked up CP19 at the I-26 overpass.  Turning left on Cummings Road, I made my way over to Old Wauhatchie Pike.  Mind you, I am trying to read a 1:24,000 map, mounted to my handle bars, while I am pedaling at 10-15mph, with old eyes.  There are no road names, as my route is now in the bottom right-hand corner of the map ... almost damned well off the map!  I had to stop a few times to get my bearings.  But finally I was convinced I was on course.  Seeing CP 20 confirmed and made me smile!

Old Wauhatchie Pike

Knowing confidently where I was, I was able to push harder.  Grabbing CP21, I made my way through throngs of people enjoying a beautiful spring day on the river walk.  I came through the finish at 9:25, 35 minutes to spare.  

19 out of 21 checkpoints.  Confidence boosted like a Space X rocket!  I was first Solo Woman.  I also ended up (I think) 2nd overall.  There were 2 teams who cleared the course.  Brad Cobb and Scott Brannon smashed it with a time of 8:51, despite their hairy descent off the escarpment at Prentice Cooper.  Now I really know why they make us wear tracking devices ... to find the bodies 😆

The Oswald father/son duo also cleared the course, but came in over time, so were deducted 2 CP's, I think.  This would put me ahead of them, based on time.  After talking to them at the post race meal, their first goal is always to clear, even if it penalizes them.  Now that is a goal that I hope to one day achieve, but within the time allotment.

I felt that this race was a good one to dip my toe into the solo category.  Now that I have gained some confidence, my next goal will be to enter a solo race where I am not as familiar with the territory.  I also like the 10 hour length, but hope to one day step up to the 24-30 hour distance.  Just gotta find one that doesn't have 20+ miles of paddling all at once.  I hate paddling!

I want to give Jim Farmer a huge thumbs up for a great and challenging course that allowed us to choose our own adventure. I cannot even begin to imagine the number of hours and miles biked and walked to lay out this course.  Thanks to Susie for allowing him to do this and staying sane.  The volunteers were awesome and upbeat!  And to Warrior Racing for getting me hooked ... I hope that this navigation thing will stave off dementia, as adventure racing is mentally challenging.