As I awaited the 7:30 am start amidst 500+ like-minded fools, I thought about how I got to this very moment. I had already finished three 100's (more like 105) and one 50 (actually 62). After the 50 last year, I thought I was done. The closest I came to buckling the 100 was in 2016. I attempted 2 more times, but my finishing times kept getting longer, partly due to the course getting harder (and longer) and me getting older. I accepted the fact that a buckle was out of reach, but then I heard news of a 1000 mile buckle ... 🤔. And then a week after the 50, Lisa (who had buckled the duathlon in 2021) planted a seed when she said she thought I could buckle the duathlon. At first I hysterically laughed and immediately shrugged it off. I thought a half-marathon was hard, so putting 3 of them together after a 65 mile bike was just insane. But that damn buckle haunted every waking moment, until I finally said f*ck it! I am going to give this duathlon a go. What have I got to lose? If worse came to worse, I could always switch over to the bike only format.
And so, here I stood, awaiting the start of the bike, only fearing the uncontrollable. The body and mind were ready to go to places so dark, it would make a black hole look bright. I had 22 hours to finish it to get the buckle and 25 hours before I would be DQ'd. I planned on riding the 65 miles conservatively to decrease the risks of flatting or crashing, as this course eats tires and is very technical, about 95% single track.
I was a little concerned about how wet the course might be, as it had rained the day and night before. The temperature was a pleasant 63 degrees with cloudy skies. There was a chance of rain but not until the afternoon. However, that chance extended on into the night.
Lisa was also doing the duathlon. Her husband, Chris, and his parents, Rudy and Vickie, were our support crew. Her goal was to finish, buckle, and get it done under 20 hours. On our pre ride yesterday, she had asked me was I still going to finish if I couldn't buckle. I responded with an immediate yes.
It was a LeMans start, with a 0.6 mile run. I had my Pearl Izumi X-Alp Summit cycling shoes, which were super comfy. I had a CamelBak Bike Vest with a 50 ounce bladder filled with Skratch and a Revelate Designs Mountain Feedbag on the bike which housed my gel flask, Honey Stinger waffles, and SaltStick Fast Chews (electrolytes).
Just before the gun went off, the Star Spangled Banner was played on an electric guitar. This year we were not lead out by a unicorn, but by a blue haired dude on a Harley. I managed to get close to the front to avoid getting trampled. When the rockets were launched, the foot race began. For once, the LeMans did not seem hard. When I hopped on the bike, the legs were not heavy as in years past, but warmed up and ready to produce some watts.
I started off easy; my goal was to finish around the 8 hour mark. The first few miles were relatively easy, being cross country ski trail. I was quite surprised how dry the trail was. All the rain had really settled the sand and it was fast. The climb up Jedi was comfortable. Somewhere along here, Dan Weatherwax shouted out to me. He told me what an inspiration I was to both him and his wife. Thanks, Dan, for making one of many happy moments for me during the race. Oftentimes, I don't know whether I inspire or scare away those from these most difficult events.
There was the usual conga line going down Top O' The World, where I passed 10 racers by HAB'ing down the far left; I probably couldn't have ridden any faster and even my ego agreed that the risk was too high to attempt to clean it on the bike. This running thing made me pretty adept at negotiating tricky terrain.
After the fun descent, it was on to the "ge-dunk, ge-dunk, ge-dunk" while riding the old railroad bed with ties intact for 3/4 mile. The loamy, lumpy, rooty ride on Harlow Creek and Rickles was quite pleasant and still so dry, it was hard to fathom that it had been dumping rain in the days leading up to the race. I kept my comfortable pace back to the campground and passed my crew about an hour and 50 minutes in. Not needing any hand ups, I stopped long enough to see how far Lisa was ahead ... about 9 minutes. Good, I could continue at my pace and not put our crew in a bind being too far spaced out.
Wildcat is always fun, flowy, and fast. Got a little too carefree and about washed out my front wheel in a berm. Settle, I told myself. Pine Knob was its usual ugly self, just slicker with the moist rocks. Still too many people close to me to feel comfortable riding the descents in my own little bubble, so I made the wise call and HAB'd (hike a bike) most of them. The remainder of the trails over to Lowe's Trail (Blue Heron, Collinsville, Silver Lead) were relatively easy, which I had to be careful not to go too too hard, as I wanted to save ALL my matches for the run. The Lowe's Trail is always an SOB, as it is uphill with steep climbs and techy features. I got off and ran when I knew it was more efficient to do so.
And then there was The Beach ... grrrr! I have never been a good surfer or perhaps I just don't have enough mass to keep momentum when the wheels bog down, so I did some running through this area. Fortunately most of it was rideable, so not too much energy was wasted. My crew was waiting for me at the 29 mile mark just before the Highway 41 underpass. I made it here in 3 hours and 33 minutes and made up a couple minutes on Lisa. While I stretched and ate some food, they refilled my CamelBak.
Hopping on the Iron Ore Trail, I knew to take a breather, as the trails coming up were going to be spicy. While I was eating my waffle, I chatted briefly with Jason, who was tackling this for the first time. He, along with another woman slowly pulled away from me. Soon, I knew the very sharp right hand turn would come. Normally there are people to direct you onto the trail as it is kinda hidden. Unfortunately Josh and the woman were too far ahead to hear me yell turn right! And they kept pedaling on down the rail trail. I wonder how many other people made that same mistake. This was one place where it was important to follow your GPS.
I chuckled a bit on the Greywalls Trail that, as it followed along the perimeter of the golf course, had signs, asking you to be quiet. Smiley was a flow trail that would have been WAY better in the other direction. Continuing the climb along Rough Rock Ridge, I had my first low point, where I felt some fatigue settling in. I popped another electrolyte tab, allowing it to melt like a Certs in my mouth. The simple pleasures ...
Once on Eh Line, I knew I would see my support crew soon. I made it to South Trails in 4 hours 45 minutes, 15 minutes behind schedule. I did not need anything, but just seeing everyone yelling for me, gave me a little shot of adrenalin. And then there was Gurly. The rocks had just enough moisture to make them greasy. I decided to run a good portion of it. I might lose a little time, but better than losing the ability to continue if I were to crash and break the body or bike.
Doctors was fun. Being drier I felt confident in letting it go on this descent. Even got some praise from the dudes that followed my lines down to Marquette Mountain Road. The gravel road climb up to Scary Trail was arduous, but at least the gravel was firmly packed. The first bit of upper Scary was slippery and I cleaned it about halfway down before my monkey brain kicked in and said, "STAAAP!" So I did, ran a short section and then finished the remaining portion. Halfway through Scary was the first checkpoint. I grabbed 2 tokens, putting them each in a different spot on my person. Just a little added insurance. Lower Scary was dry and a joy to descend.
Zueg's was the longest climb of the day at 2 miles. And the point in the ride when I began to feel some soreness (fatigue) in the quads. I needed to slow down, but at the same time, I needed to stay on pace. Let the mental games begin! Once I saw Easy Rider, I knew I was close to my crew at Rippling River Campground. BTW, Easy Rider is a chunky descent, during which I passed a dude on a bike, no helmet and sandals. It wasn't even dark yet and the hallucinations were already starting.
As I stopped to grab a bottle and a waffle, I hadn't lost any more time and I had gained a little on Lisa. That was motivating, as I wasn't too far off her pace, which allowed for a little wiggle room once the run started.
I don't remember much of the next 5 miles of single track (Off Grade, Pipe Dreams, Old Camp Ridge) other than Pipe Dreams was fun and fast, just watch out for the large bolts on the pipe. And the other trails were tight, twisty, and rooty, but at least dry (in years past I remember them being as slick as snot from the rain).
Why I was expecting the ORV trails to be easy, I don't know, but I suppose this was one of my weaker moments. A lot of ups and downs, but fortunately they were in great shape and the usual sandy hike a bike spots had been graveled and so now everything was rideable.
As I came to the Iron Ore Trail, the Banana Lady was there. She had been at other spots previous to this, but I was wanting some real food, so stopped and ate what else, a banana. Her name was Stephanie and she reminded me that we met last year at the finish, as she was supporting her husband on the 50. I remembered her bawler Jeep Gladiator. She told me that I inspired her husband to attempt the hundred this year. Awesome. Once again, some feel good vibes to get me through to Jackson Park.
Of course there was a head wind. I managed to jump on a 3 person train, but only got to enjoy it for a few minutes, as it was just to fast for my barking legs. All I thought as I made my way on this flat but slightly uphill gravel trail, was how bad I wanted to get off the bike and start running. My other thought was thank God I was doing the Duathlon, because I didn't think I could ride the remaining miles after Jackson Park. That's how tired my legs felt.
I rolled into Jackson Park at 3:43 pm, 8 hours and 13 minutes on the bike, 15 minutes off pace. I had 65 miles of riding, but Lisa had a wheel sensor and got 70 miles. Oof! By the time I arrived , Lisa had changed into her run clothes and was slamming a can of ravioli. Scott Morman was also there changing.
I had a fairly quick transition, changing clothes and eating some ramen (which was the best food choice I made all day ... thanks Scott, just wish I had brought more than 2 helpings). Transition time was 17 minutes, as I headed out for my run at 4 pm.
... to be continued.
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