The Laramie Enduro

Jo, Doug, and I rolled into Laramie around 2pm on Friday morning. After picking up our race packets and checking in at the hotel I spent a couple hours preparing my bike and my equipment for the race. In my camelbac I carried 80oz of water, 1 spare tube, 2 tire levers, 1 multitool, 1 big air cartridge, chain lube, rag, chamois butter, a small turkey wrap, 1 protein bar, and a long sleeve jacket. On my bike I also carried a tube and a big air cartridge. Next I planned what I'd pack in my jersey pockets: 18 GU's, 2 bars, and a chapstick. Lastly, I wanted to experiment how long it would take to vent 5 psi out of my tires. I planned on riding them at 30 psi for the first part of the course and then dropping down to 25 psi for the last section. It took 3 seconds to vent approx 5 psi.

Bars and GU

With the bike and nutrition dialed we headed out for dinner in downtown Laramie. I laid out my maps and exchanged briefs with Jo and Doug. They had ridden the section of the second loop that I missed on Recon Mission 2. I gave them all the beta I could from both recon missions and they filled me in on what I missed in the second loop. After a quick stop by Safeway we headed back to the hotel for an early night. It had stormed all day and a spectacular cell moved in just as we settled in. It was a rough night of sleep filled with pre-race anxiety. Just after midnight Jo caught me eating a bowl of cereal. I was trying to time my crunching with the air conditioning fan, but got out of sync and woke her up. She caught me in mid bite!

Stormy Sky

We woke up before the sun at 4:45am and after breakfast headed up I-80 to the race start. As we climbed up the hill, Happy Jack recreation area was shrouded in the left over clouds of Friday's storms. We stepped out of the car to a cold mist and I was overcome immediately by my (now standard) pre-race need to "evacuate" a few pounds. Fortunately, there was a highway rest stop just down the road. I made it to the start check-in just in time to see Jo off and get staged, there was no time to warm up. The open class and single speeders started five minutes before the sport class.

Jo in the Mist

Doug and I found ourselves staged at the back of the pack, so far back that I didn't even hear the start signal. Everyone just started riding and so I took off with them. The first 1/4 mile of the course was an uphill climb along a dirt road before it funneled into a short singletrack section. I wanted to get as close to the front of the pack as possible before the inevitable log jam that would ensue at the singletrack. I guy in a Ultra 100 Jersey in front of me made a move to the outside on the left and I followed. We worked together to jump close to the front of the pack and were in a good spot by the beginning of the singletrack. It worked and I missed the log jam which gave me the opportunity to drop another half-dozen riders before the trail opened up into dirt road again.

Doug caught me on the dirt road and we rode together until the next singletrack section where I stopped to pee and let air out of my tires. My original plan was to wait until after the 4th aid station, but I could tell 30 psi was too much. It was going to be a long race and any rolling resistance gain I might get was not worth the abuse the higher psi would cause my back and body. On a hardtail 29er 5 psi makes a difference. I was off the bike just over a minute, but it felt like an eternity. As I was clipping in I looked back to see a huge pack of riders heading my way. I sprinted up the single track settling into a small line of riders.

Early On

Three of us broke away and rode together up the short but steep singletrack climb where we caught all the single speeders who were walking. I spotted another Phoenix Multisport jersey up ahead that could only be Jo. As I passed I wished her a good race and told her I'd be thinking of her. The guy in front of me was wearing a skeleton jersey and we seemed to be evenly matched. His name was John and we would spend portions of the race riding together. The singletrack descended a steep knob and opened up into doubletrack, then fire road. I caught Doug who was in a medium sized group at the bottom. There wasn't a good place to pass, so after a while I bunny hopped a puddle to get by. The road continued in a long gradual descent which I sprinted at first and then settled into a sustained big ring cadence to the bottom.

Jo Killing It

The course made two 90 degree right turns and started up a long gradual climb that was a mix of false flats and steep bumps. I thought I had opened up a gap on the group Doug was in, but they soon caught me. With the groups and break aways the race felt like a road race. I would break away only to be reeled in by different groups. My plan was to go out hard and recover on this climb for the next singletrack climb that lay ahead. It was time to stop sprinting and stick to my plan. Doug, John and I worked together to slowly ride off the front of the group by the first aid station. I was happy to leave them. Everyone seemed to be frantically racing each other for every little bit of ground they could get and I didn't want to get caught up in it.

We rode through the first aid station without stopping and soon found ourselves at the base of the next single track climb where John pulled ahead followed by Doug. I was tempted to go with them, but I was starting to feel my long distance groove. I rode alone to the top with the plan of trying to catch Doug on the downhill. Since loosing my last race in the downhill I've been tuning my technique. I've found I can save my back and abs by keeping my arms comically loose, imagine two dead fish extending off my shoulders! Even though I cursed them at first, the bar ends help lock my hands from slipping off the ends of the bar. It's a riding style that brings me back 10 years to when a hardtail was all I knew.

I caught Doug at the bottom of the descent and we caught up on how each other's race was going. In a lapse of positional awareness I didn't see a sharp right hand turn coming up. Doug didn't either and we were both going too fast to make it. He veered into me, our bikes locked and we crashed in slow motion into the brush on the side of the trail. I managed to stay on my bike while Doug somehow ended up facing rearward caught in a hammock of young trees. It was pretty funny.

We rode together through the mostly flat singletrack to aid station 2. It had been about 30 miles and I was really feeling settled in my groove. Doug broke off to fill his bottles, while I stuck to my plan and didn't stop. I never saw him again. The terrain opened up into rolling hills and the course followed a mix of fire roads and singletrack to aid station 3. This was the section I didn't ride in either of my recon missions. The only real surprise was how much of it was singletrack and how bumpy it was. It was like riding on cobble stones. The challenge for me was to balance my speed with body fatigue from the bumps. If I went too fast I found myself expending too much energy acting as a shock absorber, if I went too slow I was loosing time.

In my Groove

I caught up with John at aid station 3, where I stopped to pee, exchange bottles, grab two handfuls of GU's, and shove 4 fig newtons in my mouth. Total time off the bike was 1 minute, John and I left together. Trying to chew 4 fig newtons at the same time with a moderate heart rate on bumpy singletrack almost ended in disaster. I was coughing them up for the next 5 minutes. Doug and Jo's brief on the next two climbs was invaluable, there were no surprises. John and I rode the next climb together which was a good distraction from our pain. He turned out to be a real class act. He's 44 and only had time to ride once a week in training for the race. I couldn't believe how strong he was and can only hope to be that strong when I'm 44.

After the climb was a short singletrack descent followed by long gradual climb to aid station 4. As I rolled through aid station 4, I grabbed another hand full of GU's, exchanged my bottles and dumped a bottle on my head. It was getting hot and the cold water was shocking but instant relief. For the rest of the race I every time I hydrated I would also squirt a shot into my helmet. On the short climb after aid station 4 I managed to snort a fly into my right nostril. It went in deep and I couldn't blow it out. The feeling large dead fly lodged in my upper nostril / sinus area while already breathing hard is a horror I will never forget. After a fit of hawking I managed to dislodge it from the back of my nose, down my throat and spit it out. I made so much noise a race photographer thought I was having an asthma attack and asked if he should call the EMTs. Disgusted at the experience I said no and pushed on.

Soon the dirt road ended in a campground and the course followed the singletrack section I blogged about in Recon Mission 2. I stopped in the campground to pee again and re-chamois butter. I felt like I had to pee the entire race, which was annoying, but meant I was hydrated. This is where I planned to begin my race. The first 50 miles was just getting to this point so I could start racing for real. I was alone and didn't feel super strong, but I made it a point to start a slow acceleration to whatever race pace I could muster. John was just behind me and riding strong. I could hear him for the first half of the singletrack down to Middle Crow Creek. There the singletrack started a climb through Sherman rocks up to aid station 5. This is where my pre-rides and training really paid off. My legs came alive and I started to catch the back of the pro pack on the climb. I was super focused on my effort level, picking good technical lines, and staying loose to prevent my upper body from fatiguing. I was sucking down a GU almost every 15 minutes and even forced a bar down to delay the onset of bonking.

The only hitch was a crash at a steep rocky drop where another rider had stopped looking somewhat dazed. The cleanest line was over the steepest part of the drop, about 3 feet. I rode it on recon mission 2 and made a mental note of the line. He was standing right in the middle of it at the top. I had no choice but to go left where even through the drop wasn't as steep it required a lateral hop to the right through some shark fin-type rocks. I hung up my front tire trying to make the hop and endoed off the trail. As I was getting back on my bike I asked him if he was okay and said politely "Hey man, that's a bad place to stop. Your standing in the line." He lashed back at me, angrily; "This is unrideable!" The adrenalin from my crash turned to instant anger, but I maintained and uttered a measured yet intense reply. "Dude, just because you can't see the line or aren't able to ride it doesn't mean everybody else can't. Your a pro and you can't ride this? WTF??" Enough time was wasted in the crash, so I moved on. Besides, ultimately I had only myself to blame for crashing. Once I realized he wasn't going to move I should have walked the section. It was a bad decision and I take responsibility for it.

I was definitely riding in the back of the pro/open field. Other than the guy who snapped at me above, everyone was super strong and had a very professional and courteous demeanor. It was great company to race with. I picked my way through the back of the pro field all the way to aid station 5. Fresh bottles were crucial as my camelbac was now dry. On my roll-through I grabbed another hand full of GUs sucking 2 down immediately. The course followed a false flat to the base of the final singletrack climb through Happy Jack on the Headquarters Trail.

Top of the Last Climb

I was hurting bad, but in a twisted way it felt good. The last time I had reached that level of suffering was in the 2005 season before my knee injury. I finally felt like I was back and it felt so, so good to be suffering for real. My goal was to put in a final sustained effort up the last climb conserving enough energy to sprint to the finish. I was in pain and my demons were loud, but I felt completely in sync with my bike and fought to stay positive. I thought about the people Phoenix Multisport is trying to help and what it would represent if I did well. I was riding at my limit and passed two more riders on the way up. At the top of the climb were a couple miles of unrelenting technical singletrack. The trail was filled with constant rocks and roots. I compared it to the Sourdough Trail in my previous post, but it was way worse. I tried to stay focused and proactive, keeping my arms and shoulders super loose. Towards the end my abs were starting to cramp and one of the guys I passed on the climb soon caught me. I fought through the cramps and soon the rocks gave way to smooth singletrack. Before long, I could see the trail head and the road to the finish. There was only 1/4 mile left. I dropped into my big ring and quickly spun out sprinting for the finish. I held off the guy behind me crossing the line alone.

70 Miles of Dirt

All of a sudden it was over! After a couple cool down laps around the parking lot and I found myself craving just a little bit more. That quickly faded once my heart rate settled and I found some shade and sat down. The GPS showed a moving time of 5 hours, 56 minutes and only 4 minutes stopped. I had no idea how I did, but I didn't see any other sport bibs around. After about 10 minutes John rolled in looking strong. I sat without moving for about 20 minutes, neglecting any recovery drink or stretching. My only motivation to get up was when I saw a results sheet being posted. My name was at the top of a short list of sport riders who had finished so far with a time of 6 hours and 5 seconds. The second place guy was 8 minutes behind me. John was 1st in his age group and 3rd in sport overall. We congratulated each other and I met his wife and 1 year old twins. I was super grateful to have had his company throughout the race. He definitely pushed me and distracted me from my demons.

Awards Ceremony

Since the race I've been riding high on a pink cloud and amazed at how well it came together. I finished 1st out of 68 in my age group and from what I can tell 26th overall out of a total field of 350. If I had raced in the Pro/Open class I would have finished 5th, which begs a point that maybe it is time for me to move up. This is my first year back after 2 years off and if I'm picking up where I left off then this will definitely be my last year in sport. The recon missions 1 and 2 were invaluable and paid off huge. The last minute saddle change to the Gobi was a gamble, but it worked out. My arss hurt, but not as much as it would have on the Bontrager Race X Lite.

Water, Mountain Dew, & Root Beer

Glad to be Done

Jo finished 4th the female single speed class, loosing 3rd place by 51 seconds!! It was bittersweet for her loose a podium spot by 51 seconds in a 70 mile race, but I'm super proud of her. She rode strong the whole race finishing in 7:17:51. Doug was on his way to a top 5 finish until the 4th aid station, where not eating and drinking enough caught up to him. He made a smart decision to abandon rather than do any permanent damage to himself. Thanks to Jo, for your support and encouraging me to do the race, Doug and John (who I met at the race) for pushing me during the race, Jean-Paul for pre-riding the course with me on Recon Mission 2, and to Ramine for the many training sessions and strategy talks. I'm also grateful for the opportunity to represent Phoenix Multisport and everyone there for your support.