it is a long one so bear with me.....
I had been watching the weather like a hawk over several days prior to the High Cascades. The forecast was grim...hot, followed by hot, to be topped off by HOTT! Race day was on Saturday and the forecast was calling for 90's which was less than ideal but the reality was that everyone would have to contend with the oppressive temps and hydrate/eat accordingly.
The Escondido Gorilla (name witheld to protect the innocent...namely, the rest of his family!) and I had coordinated to sign up for the race and make our annual (going on the 3rd year) suffer fest of some kind. The High Cascades was on the radar this year and it did not disappoint.
EG (Escondido Gorilla) rolled into town on Thursday night and we promptly went down to webcyclery on Friday to pick up his rental bike....yup, you read it correctly...nothing like doing a hundie on a rental. In order to put this into context, the EG had broken his titanium frame (his 3rd titanium break victim), as well as his backup aluminum frame prior to race day. His bike quiver was down to his old trusty steel tank with cantilever brakes for the last month of training.
Fast forward a month and we picked up his bike the day before the race. The EG had never ridden full suspension or a 29'r so my guess is that it would be a hate OR love relationship for the hundie.
Race day arrived quickly enough. We woke up at 4 a.m. to try and get some calories in our system before the race started at 5:30. I was afraid to look at the thermometer as it felt like it did not cool off much over night and my suspicions were confirmed when I mustered the courage to look at the temps and see that it was a nice and balmy 63. This made the pucker factor go up a little.... We made it to the starting line without incident and waited for the 5:30 start gun to go off. There was a neutral roll out for a couple miles and the race was ON as soon as the neutral roll out vehicle pulled off to the side and did the horn honk. As the horn honked, the 300+ riders start to settle into our pedal cadence and for me, it was a moment of reflection and realization of what was to come.
I should probably elaborate on the race being 'ON'....all things being relative of course...# 1, most people can't 'race' for 100 miles (other than a few select freaks), and the second part of the elaboration is that the 'race' was 'on' for those with gears. Those of us on singlespeeds got to watch the 'race' go by us as we spun out on the first 7 miles of pavement. Within those gearies, was the EG who promptly whizzed by me during this paved section.
Soon enough we hit the junction where Mike (race organizer) was standing and accurately proclaimed, 'Welcome to the apocalypse'. As soon as we hit the road, the dust was thick thick thick. You could see about 3 riders in front of you and then the dust cloud got thick enough that you could not see much further. It quickly registered that in comparison to last year, this was going to be a hotter, dustier, looser affair.
I was able to reel some people in during the climb up the dirt road and about half way up the climb I passed the EG in the middle of the apocalyptic dust cloud. It is amazing how much of a haboob over 300 mountain bikers can cause! We climbed until we reached a junction where we quickly turned left and rode up another dirt road for a little bit to catch the Larsen trail. At this point, the positioning in the conga line was pretty much set until Wanoga. It was time to settle in and accept the pace of the conga line on the trail. Larsen was much looser than the prior year and the dust cloud continued to kick up from all the rubber turning. The conga pace can be a little challenging on a singlespeed when people slow down going uphill and you are forced into a very slow pedal crank to maintain whatever speed the line is moving.
Larsen turned into Tiddlywinks and we cruised through to the junction where we would catch the trail 'Funner' and climb it uphill to Wanoga. It was fairly uneventful and it made no sense to try to gain positions on this section of trail considering there were few places to pass and it was still very early in the race.
The first aid station was at Wanoga and I kept moving knowing that I had enough water and calories to get me to aid station 3. We took the upper section of Tiddly to the dirt road and then climbed up the dirt road and eventually towards Vista Sno Park area. I had pre-ridden this a couple of weeks prior and more or less knew what to expect relative to conditions and climbing. The descents are always a little tricky in this area as there is usually one good line with lots of eroded and soft lines surrounding it. Given the dryness and ensuing dust cloud, it could make for a tricky descent if you could not see the good line. I gave the person in front of me lots of room and knew enough to know where the good line was. This was a good move as the guy in front of me got caught up in the erosion trough and went down awkwardly. I slowed down, yelled out 'Rider Down' and asked if he was OK and when he responded affirmatively, I kept moving.
As we made our way up the dirt roads to Vista, I ran into some familiar faces and we had some quick exchanges.
I was still picking my way through people who got well ahead of me from the fast start of the race and felt like I had not yet found my tribe of people that I would end up with most of the day. It seemed like the race did not thin out as much relative to the prior year.
As we approached Vista, I dreaded the Sand Wall as I knew it would be hike a bike for a short steep section until the pitch and road conditions got better. We picked up the singletrack trail from the road that would take us down to Swampy. There was a quick climb and then a fast descent into Swampy. I skipped that aid station at Swampy since I had enough to get me to the next aid station 10 miles away. At this point the legs were feeling good and the miles were clicking away quickly.
There was a conscious effort to make sure to stay hydrated in the early parts of the course as the latter half of the course was the 'hot section'. Any lack of hydration in the first few hours would be very costly later so I drank, drank and drank.
We went up from Swampy and then got to Swede Ridge where we were able to let go of the brakes and haul down the ridge to Skyliners where we picked up road 4601. Aid station 4 was just ahead (after the switchback) and a quick stop was in order. You could feel the day getting hotter and it became even more evident as we were on road 4601 and there was no tree cover....it would be a sign of things to come.
I stopped at aid station 4 knowing that we had a nice climb ahead of us and I did not want to run out of water before hitting the next aid station at mile 57 (Dutchman Sno Park). One of the volunteers filled my bladder in the wingnut and I think he might have spilled more than what made it into the bladder. I got back in the saddle and could feel water flowing down my back. It felt good but was concerned that the water would start to chap my hiney! The weird thing was the water kept flowing down my back. I stopped, squeezed my wingnut and thought it was just the excess water that had spilled out when filling it up. After the wingnut wring it was time to keep moving. I started pedaling and of course more water just kept flowing...something was not right. I stopped again, opened up the wingnut and noticed that the cap on my bladder had not been closed properly and it was leaking like mad. At this point there was probably less water in the bladder from 're-filling' than there was prior to stopping at the aid station.
The course took us up a quick connector road that contoured along the ridge and we quickly got on Mrazek where it would be a steady haul to Happy Valley and beyond. There were a couple of sections where the trail kicked up and it was time to do a little grunting. At this point, the race was starting to settle in terms of where your position in the race was.
As we went up Happy Valley, it got steep and I dismounted and did a little hike a bike thinking that it would save my legs for a little later. Going through the old growth was amazing! The riding up there is always stellar! There are some great view of Broken Top with some varied terrain to keep it all super aesthetic. The dreaded cramping was starting to take its toll and I swallowed a handful of electrolytes to try to keep it at bay. At that point I knew it was going to be another variable to manage carefully going forward.
The course took us up to the top and we started to descend quickly towards Dutchman. The descent was fun and fast and in pretty good shape relative to everything else we had ridden.
I got to the Dutchman Aid Station where I left a drop bag and swapped out my bottles/calories and had a slight sense of relief knowing that 75% of the climbing was behind us (at mile 57), but I also knew that the hard part of the day was ahead of us.
This is where the penalty for being on a singlespeed really started to show itself. The remaining part of the race was lumpy and technical and HOT.
As I left Dutchman, I tried to re-set the brain for focusing on what lay ahead. I hit Metolius Windigo that would take us around Bachelor over to Lava Lakes. You could feel the heat rising and I tried not to dwell on it and tried to enjoy the riding until the next aid station at Lava Lakes.
About 2 miles into the Metolius Windigo trail I came across a couple of riders that were stopped. I immediately stopped and asked if they were OK. I realized...not so much. One of the guys looked like he took a bad fall and had a pretty bloody face. The rider with him said he had a concussion and to let the next aid station know. I hopped back in the saddle with the goal in mind of getting to the next Aid station about 9 miles away to let them know.
The course made its way to Lava Lake via sharp volcanic tuft that made you think your tires were vulnerable each time you rolled over them. This section of the trail is not very 'flowy' and you just bump along without being able to gain a lot of speed. On the hard tail singlespeed, it really starts to take its toll as you feel every bump.
The Lava Lakes aid station came up and I communicated the status of the rider 9 miles back. I drank a cold cup of coke, grabbed a couple of M&M's and moved along knowing the worst part of the day lay right ahead. We had a 1,100 foot climb ahead of us and it was peak heat in dead air. Yeehaa! I swallowed another handful of electrolytes and focused on the grind ahead.
The climb got steep/loose and I hopped off the bike and started the hike a bike / ride alternating. This would continue for about 45 minutes until I crested and then started the downhill. For some reason, this section of trail seemed much more technical than I had remembered. It might have been a function of purposely forgetting, or not remembering from being so delirious, or feeling more tekkie due to the heat, or just feeling beat up from around 70 miles of singlespeeding.
Regardless, I had a hard time finding my flow as not only was the trail rocky, but it was loose and rocky. Even the little ascents were littered with technical lines that were a combination of firm rock, loose rock, and loose sand.
At this point, I was focused on getting to the next Aid Station ad Edison to get a quick reprieve. I refilled my water and tried to keep moving without too much delay. The problem with waiting around is that it gives your brain and body a chance to start griping given the abuse you are putting them through.
There was one significant climb left and then it would be mostly downhill until the finish. It was time to put on the big boy pants and grind up the last climb of the day. It was not pleasant...but somehow the bike and body made their way up the climb and there was a certain sense of relief when the descent started. At this point the body ached and the usually flowy downhill turned into a double black diamond descent for me as each little bump felt amplified as the body let me know just how unhappy it was.
The miles ticked away and it was time to stay focused on the descent and not get too sloppy. Tiddlywinks descent turned into Storm King and then to pavement...ahhhhhh - at least the last 7 miles would be bump free!
I got passed up by a few geared guys on the 7 mile paved return but all I could think about know was the finisher growler that awaited.
My race was coming to an end as we dropped into the last little section of singletrack that would pop us onto the finish line...ahhhh, there it was, the finish line....
The missus was there and she took my bike to relieve me of having to look at it any longer. There was a volunteer there with a cold wet towel and cold water bottle...mmmmm....me likey...
All in all, it was a long hard day as they always are. The course was more difficult this year in part due to the extra elevation gain, but mostly due to the heat and the course conditions (dry and loose).
It felt great to meander over to the growler finisher area and pick up a growler. The triviality of having something to show you suffered and finished seems ridiculous but man ohhhh man it always feels good!
as for the Escondido Gorilla....The EG had his own demons during the race. At about mile 55, he decided to test the 'hardness' of the local volcanic tuft against the 'hardness' of his jaw. He had a bad fall and stumbled into the Dutchman Aid Station where they looked at him and said 'You are not allowed to continue'. After about 35 minutes he finally persuaded them to let him keep going (although he had to be accompanied by a couple of riders to 'keep an eye on him'). Each aid station knew to look for #267 and make sure he was OK.
The EG crossed the finish line and we yelled words of encouragement until we saw him up close and realized he was a hurtin' gorilla. We took him to the medic tent and our priority became his well being as the medics started to check him out. As they poked and prodded, it was determined he needed to go to the ER to make sure nothing serious was going on. They put the EG in a neck brace and we took him to the hospital for a CAT scan. By some stroke of good fortune, there was no broken anything! Although I would venture to guess that if we were able to find the rock he bounced his jaw off, there might be a good size divet in it.
I could tell the EG was in pain and we tried to keep conversation light as we waited on the results of the CAT scan and the morphine to kick in for the pain. At this point EG could talk out of the side of his mouth and drink water out of the side of his mouth.
They released him from the hospital we all let out a collective sigh of relief. I fear that his missus will confiscate his remaining steel steed in his quiver after this last episode and I fear even more that he won't be let out to play with me anymore as something always seems to happen when he gets the green light to partake in some silly pursuit with me.
as a wrap, I would like to thank Mudslinger for an amazing event! You guys and ALL the volunteers ROCK!
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