Cohutta Bikepacking Adventure - Day 3

Food Lion resupply

I did not get a very good night's sleep and woke up with a face only a mother could love.  Nothing like getting going again with a severe bike hangover.  We left our motel around 7:30 am, during school rush hour.  We stopped at the Food Lion to purchase enough calories for the 72 miles back to Eton.  Chugging a Starbuck's DoubleShot, I filled my feedbag with more candy, and shoved a banana in my back pocket.  There was slim pickens for me, but fortunately I had 2 cheese sandwiches in my pack for later. We then commenced playing Frogger, dodging vehicles driven by teenagers and distracted Mom's, trying to get out of Blue Ridge without being killed.

It was another chilly puffy-wearing morning. The first few miles were relatively flat but still painfully lactic-acidy.  Then came the rollers from hell. A mix of pavement and decent gravel, but I swear we straight-lined up and over every stinkin' knob between Blue Ridge and Mulberry Gap.  I even got in a bonus knob, when my eyes were pissin' tears so much in the cold wind, I missed a turn.

Just before we made a left turn onto Boardtown Road, out of nowhere a German Shepherd gave chase.  He was a big boy, and I was envisioning one of us being bitten or taken down, but no, this handsome dude just wanted somebody to play with him. Not a mean bone in his body.  But he kept following us on St. Lucius Road right to where it tee'd into Boardtown.  I tried to distract him with a portion of a PayDay bar, but he followed us.  We tried to outrun him, but in our state, it was laughable.  

So for the next 3 1/2 miles he ran with us.  Now Boardtown is one of the busier roads and this boy had no vehicle sense, so every time a car approached, we would stop and call him to our side.  We were so worried he was going to get hit.  Finally we hit a steep descent and were able to drop him.  I felt like a bad dog Mom, but he had no collar on him and where we first encountered him, there were no homes nearby.  He had to have an owner as he was in great shape and with a beautiful coat. We could only pray he made it home safely.

Wofpen Gap Road

Around mile 21, we hit Wolfpen Gap Road, which caused a little mental confusion.  Did I download the wrong course and now we are in Suches?  Why would Georgia have two roads with the same name? It was a beautiful gravel climb which took us right up to someone's house before veering onto the rugged Harper Creek Road. This short section of double track  had a few puddles to dodge, but was otherwise a pretty pedal through the woods.

Harper Creek

Fortunately I found a walk around

We hit Gates Chapel Road around mile 27 and I finally knew where I was.  Gates Chapel is a lot more lumpy that I remember it.  But I have always driven it, not pedaled it.  Lisa, once again being stronger, forged on ahead and waited at Bear Creek Road. When I arrived, what came out of her mouth was music to my ears.  She said that she had a 4 pm deadline to be home, as her weekend was filled with riding sweep for the GCA races, on both days.  Me, on the other hand, had nowhere to be, but I was just not feeling that tackling another 40 miles was gonna be enjoyable ... maybe FUn, but not rainbows and unicorns fun.  We made another executive decision to ride P1 and P2 to Mulberry Gap and call it a day.

Lunchtime!

Those final 12 single track miles were HARD!  I was spent.  Yeah, I could have ridden P3 - P5, the Fort Mountain connector, Fort Mountain trails over to Holly Creek to Eton, and then the 6 mile pedal back to our vehicles at Mulberry Gap, but I would have dug a hole so deep, that it would take a few weeks to climb out of.  And Zeke's famous saying, "You don't get old by being stupid," was bouncing around in my brain.

So I had absolutely no regrets as I slogged my way up and over P1 and P2 and then that short ass-kicker climb on Conasauga Road back to MG.  And I saw my bestie on Conasauga, the Zekester!

P2

Lisa chilling on P2

We arrived at Mulberry Gap just before 2 pm.  Despite riding an abbreviated version of the Cohutta Cat, we still managed to get in 259 miles and just shy of 30,000 feet of climbing.  It was a good ride to figure out a few things before my big event in 2025 ... TNGA.  

But I have a lot of work to do.  I realized I cannot coach myself, so will be seeking out one for next year.  I also have got to figure out how to get more real food for nutrition.  While I can do sugar with no issues, all that added garbage in the candy and fast food wreaks havoc on my gut:  corn syrup, artificial flavors, food dyes, lecithin, seed oils, TBHQ, dimethypolysiloxane (an ingredient in french fries and also found in silly putty), and I could go on forever.  I just don't eat that shit normally. Perhaps I can get lucky enough and there will be farmer's markets lining the route 😂😂😂

At least I have 9 months to figure it out.

And a big shout out to Lisa, for who I am forever grateful for her strength, patience, persistence, gumption, and friendship.  We have been doing BDR's since 2008.  And she still likes me! She is a mofo BA!  

Cohutta Cat Bikepacking Adventure - Day 2

Old Dial Road at sunrise

Despite me setting the alarm for 5:30 am, Lisa had to wake me up.  So that tells ya just how hard Day 1 was.  Since we would be finishing up our day back at the motel, we packed light.  I opted to roll with just 2 bottles as there would be plenty of places to get water.

We got rolling at 6:30 am, with ALL of our clothes on (and chemical warmers for me), including puffies.  Starting temperature was 31 degrees.  We rode an hour in the darkness, winding our way around Lake Blue Ridge via gravel and the Green Mountain Trail. We then intersected with Long Branch Trail, which dumped us out on Aska Road.  The route had us going on side roads, one of which had a 25% grade, to keep us off Aska as much as possible.  

As we approached our turn on to Shallowford Bridge Road, I did some quick math and realized that I did not have enough calories for the 80 mile loop (no resupply other than a bar at Camp Merrill) we were about to start. So we stopped at the Iron Bridge Cafe. Lisa hit the jackpot with home made banana bread and a cookie the size of a personal pan pizza.  I, on the other hand, was relegated to the candy aisle, where I grabbed some rice krispie bars and M&M's.  Sometimes being celiac sucks!

NFR35

   

After the smooth gravel of Old Dial Road came NFR35, with 6 miles of the burliest gravel I have ever seen.  Loose and the size of a small fist, most of my wattage was lost into the ground as opposed to going forward.  I probably could have walked it as fast as I was pedaling.  I forced myself to smile and think happy thoughts during this hour of torture.  Lisa was far better at making forward progress and so had time to do all the things:  bathroom breaks, shed layers, and have a picnic.  Fortunately once we crossed Morganton Hwy, the next 6 miles of gravel on West Skeenah Road were quite enjoyable.

West Skeenah Road

We stopped at Skeenah Campground on Hwy 60 and refilled our bottles at the spigot.  I asked the campground host first, out of respect.  A nice older gentleman who was curious about our adventure.  He told us that next time we didn't have to ask.  We told him about the grand depart on November 9 and he invited all to refill water here.

Tooni Gap Road was a pleasantly fast gravel road taking us to the Benton McKaye Trail and the Toccoa swinging bridge. We walked our bikes on the Benton McKaye, as we are supposed to do.  It wasn't really rideable anyways.  The bridge was a bit tricky as my bars were wider than it, but wheelied my bike across.

The next big climb was on Rock Creek Road up to Hightower Gap.  And here is where the wheels fell off the bus.  Lisa was still motoring strong, but my engine blew a head gasket.  I had eaten plenty of calories, but my body was saying, "F*ck you, we are sending those Snickers and Rice Krispy bars straight to your waistline."  

Lisa crushing the Hightower Gap climb

  

I thought that if I could just get to Cooper Gap, I could recover on the 4 mile descent.  Unfortunately, it was so blown out that I had to stay out of the saddle in order to negotiate the rugged descent.  With minimal recovery, we hit the Jake Mountain Trails.  8 miles of mostly smooth and flowy single track got me back in the right mindset and I rather enjoyed the route through here. It felt like it was mostly downhill.

We stopped at the church just before the Nimblewill Gap climb. We both refilled our bottles with water from their spigot. The Nimblewill Gap climb was new to me ... and it tried to crush my soul. It was also about this time that all the jetson food I had been ingesting was beginning to wreak a little havoc on my gut, in the form of gas.  Have you ever tried to fart while in the saddle?  So when I would stand up and squeeze my abs to toot, my inner thighs to cramp!  This went on the entire 8 mile climb.

Nimblewill Gap Road

Finally at the top and I could enjoy the Old Bucktown Road descent.  I was thinking this was going to be paved, but ... nope!  Another burly bumpy not so fun downhill.  No recovery for the legs, as I had to stand up the entire 4 miles.  Can't a girl catch a break?

The break finally came with a few miles of relatively flat to slightly downhill pavement to Big Creek Road. Big Creek had a beastly 3 mile, 500 foot climb right out of the gate, but at least the pavement was buttery smooth.  It was followed by a pleasant 7 mile descent along said creek. We stopped at the top to put our puffy jackets and lights on.

Popping out onto Aska Road, we hoped that the Toccoa River Restaurant was still open, as it was approaching 8:30 pm.  We were so happy to see cars in the parking lot.  As we walked in, Lisa was lit up like a Christmas tree with her 2 blinkie lights going full force. We did get some weird looks from other patrons. I was so happy for real food; I got the veggie plate and a Coke. The Coke went down fast and smooth, but unfortunately it chilled my core and I got goosebumps despite still wearing my puffy throughout the entire meal. Lisa got crab dip and chips a sweet potato.  

While waiting for our food, we were both having the same thoughts:  skipping the Stanley Gap loop and heading back to the motel.  We both did not want to HAB Stanley in the dark and arrive back at the motel past midnight, knowing we had another early start with 72 miles to finish. No regrets at all with our executive decision.  For me, I felt that I had been holding Lisa back all day; she probably would have had time to do the loop if she was solo.  She just has been so much stronger than me on this adventure.

The remaining 15 miles was pretty straight forward, retracing the path we had taken out of Blue Ridge.  We arrived back at our motel at 10:15pm.  We hit the bed at 11:30 pm.  I was totally shelled. Mine was a pretty fitful sleep, as I was achy all over.  I prayed for a lot of overnight regeneration, as although tomorrow was less mileage, it was still going to be brutally hard.

Distance:  107 miles

Elevation gain: 12,580 feet

Ride time: 13:47

Elapsed time: 15:45

Cohutta Cat Bikepacking Adventure - Day 1

Everyone has that "friend."  You know, the one who makes questionable life choices and invites you along.  Lisa managed to rope me into riding the Cohutta Cat, a 290 mile bike packing route through the North Georgia and East Tennessee mountains. I said yes, as long as we could motel camp. This body needs a warm bed at night.

 Matthew Schweiker had taken over as "race director" from Daniel Jesse, the original creator.  For 2024, the route has changed some, taking out the Sylco Trails, which have been in severe disrepair, think 1,000 downed trees to climb over, and instead added some additional single track at the Ocoee Whitewater Center.  The route has also been changed a little to add more Aska trails and more flowy trail at Bull and Jake mountain.  So the course now has more single track and gravel, and less pavement.  Single track 20%, gravel 60%, and pavement 20%.

Wednesday October 17, the warmest morning at 37 degrees

Since neither of us could make the November 9 Grand Depart, we saw a good weather opportunity this past week and decided to give it a go. Lisa did the planning and decided we would start in Eton, as this would break up the ride into 3 manageable sections, with 2 nights staying at the Douglas Inn in Blue Ridge.  Since we could not find secure parking in Eton, we drove to Mulberry Gap, left our vehicles there and then pedaled the 7 miles to join the route in Eton. We started a little after 7:30 am, at daybreak.

Grand Depart is at MG, we started in Eton

We both rode our SuperCalibers.  I had a Revelate Designs Shrew seat bag and Mountain FeedBag. I wore a USWE Pace 14L vest, with a 50 ounce bladder.  For day 1, I started out with 2 bottles of LMNT and filled the bladder with 1 liter of Skratch High Carb. Ride food consisted of Snickers, PayDays, Honey Stinger waffles, Cliff Shot Bloks, Betty Lou's fruit bars, and a 500 calorie Amish made granola bar.

Once we hit Holly Creek Road, I knew it was gonna be a hard ride, as Lisa set off on a pace that had me struggling to stay in her draft.  Doing Chris Joice's (Dark Horse Productions) Scruffy Cat the Saturday before plus 2 long days at work had my legs barking right from the beginning.  When will I ever learn? 😆

The legs began to feel better on the climb up Mill Creek.  The Sumac Creek single track was in good shape, with only a few downed trees.  We motored along the relative flatness of Old Hwy 2 and stopped at the pit toilet at Ladd Springs Road.  The sun was out, but most of the route was still heavily shaded as the leaves were just beginning to turn.  I shed only my wind breaker, but still had on a wool base layer and arm/leg warmers.

Sumac Creek Trail

Turning right onto FS 221 was a pleasant surprise, as the forest service has been doing significant road bed improvements.  Smooth as glass all the way up to the Big Frog turn off!  

FS 221 - smooth as a baby's bottom

We stopped at Big Creek to filter water and then continued on to hit the trails at the Ocoee Whitewater Center. Kudos to Ocoee Trail Responders (Mike Johnson and many others) for clearing many many downed trees.  The trails were in great shape! We stopped at the Hardee's in Ducktown to refuel before hitting the remaining miles to Blue Ridge.  I had a hamburger patty, fries, and a Coke.  I think the last time I ate Hardee's was 20 years ago! I think Lisa is a regular, as she knew exactly what she wanted.

From there began a pleasant pedal over to Tumbling Lead, followed by the long arduous climb up to Watson's Gap.  The gravel started out pleasant, but once we began climbing, it became obnoxiously marbly.  And we were both carrying food babies. All I wanted to see was Dally Gap, but around every corner ... more climbing and no gap.  Finally, we were there.  We still had a few miles to go to Watson, but I was able to get back into the right mindset. 

FS 22-2

The smooth part of FS 22-2, Tumbling Lead area

FS 22-2, before it got rough

At the top of Watson Gap, we turned our lights on.  From here, it was about an hour of riding pavement, most downhill, to the Wal-Mart where we stocked up for Day 2.  We then pedaled a 1/2 mile to the Douglas Inn, showered, and then walked over to Wendy's, which was an adventure in of itself.  We had to scramble down a 100 yard steep embankment, walk over to the drive-through window, and pitifully beg to be served, as they had just closed the dining area ... it was 9:15 pm. Fortunately, the assistant manager was super nice, let us in, and took our order.  We then had to climb back up that embankment, which was the worst part of the whole day.  But man, did that square burger and fries taste so good, especially when I spiced it up with some gluten free bread and real cheese.

Dum Dum's at check in ... a little token PTSD!

After stuffing our bellies with a 1000+ calories, charging devices, and prepping for tomorrow, we finally turned the lights off around 11:30pm.

Distance: 109 miles

Elevation: 11,560 feet

Moving time: 11:57

Elapsed time:  12:58

... to be continued.

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.