I am not sure what this says about my personality, but when I decide to do something, I tend towards doing it in the most extreme way possible. I have been known to sleep on my office floor, eat only sardines and gorp, and write compulsively for two weeks straight (I might add it was after a ten month long hiatus - see? not so crazy.... right?!). I have been known to work 16 hour days at three different jobs; and this summer marks the beginning of my venture into the world of endurance sports.
On July 30th, I rode in my very first ultra endurance mountain bike race, the Wilderness 101. The grueling race takes place out near State College over many a mountain.
I arrived in Coburn Park, the campground and start of the race around 2 or 3 in the afternoon the day before the race, parked my car and then got to some last minute bike wrenching. I ran into a couple of folks from PA and NC, headed to Elk Creek Aleworks for some good food and beer with great company, and got the scoop on how to survive the 101 that lay ahead. They told me what aid stations were the best and what trailer I should drop my supplies in. By 9:30 I was horizontal and attempting (unsuccessfully) to sleep in the back of my car for the night.
The park woke up around 5:15am and everyone started suiting up for the day ahead. I was so nervous I had hardly slept at all and was feeling pretty groggy. My first mission was to eat - my thought was to allow some time for digestion. After that, I'd get dressed and fill up water bottles.
There are relatively few women that do this race... only twenty or so out of some 350 riders. Single speed is a pretty big category for men, but it is fairly unusual for women. . Everyone that walked by and noticed my bike said something to the effect of "SS? You're CRAZY!". Their surprise seemed to be rooted at the intersection of my bike choice and gender.... I thought to myself, "there is no way that I am going to finish this race - I've biked 100 miles in a day, but only 50 in the woods, my technical skills aren't great, and I'm not fast... at all". Following the advice of a friend, I kept telling myself, just ride what you can, and if you can't ride it, walk... as fast as your little legs will take you.
I wasn't so concerned about the distance, but I was about the time cut offs. There were aid stations at miles 19, 40, 56, 70, and 90 and time cut offs at 9:00am, 11:30, 2:30, and 6:30. My biggest fear was being cut off after a mere two hours.
We rolled out of the park at 7am as a huge group and headed toward the first climb. It was a few miles up, but my legs were fresh and I was hanging with a big group of geared cyclists - men and women alike. The super fast competitors were already off the front and would be done in about 7 hours. The slowest folks would finish in about 15 hours. The first 20 miles were all fire roads and I rolled in 40 minutes before the cut-off along with a few friends and another woman riding SS. I was feeling good and had a second long climb ahead on a well packed double track trail. I spent the climb chatting with two guys on a tandem (now THAT was crazy) until their derailleur hanger ripped off the bike under the pressure. After making it to the top, I hit the first single-track downhill. I was flying down at about 20 or 25 miles an hour managing to dodge all rocks and some more fearful race competitors who were riding their brakes. I've been trying to work on not being so scared of high speeds.... and it seemed to pay off. I'm not sure what time we rolled into aid station two, but I was still hanging with a big group of cyclists, so I figured I was good for time. I had sent the first of two drop bags to Aid Station 2 so I picked up some food (if you can call carbo-loaded goo food) and continued on my way.
Between aid stations 2 & 3 there was a decent amount of of single track. We would ride up hill for about 4 or 5 miles on fire roads and then bomb down the hills on sketchy loose rocky paths. Around mile 50, we hit a 6 mile hill and I got off to walk for about 15 minutes in an effort to save my legs for later. I was not alone. Geared riders and SS alike were walking up the steep grade hill. By the time we got to the top of the hill, we were already at aid station 3 and it was only 1:15. Some of the women from the field caught me as I feasted on fig newtons and ice cold flat coca cola. For the first time I thought, "I think I might finish this race!". I ate some more, filled up my water bottles and headed towards the longest section of single track of the course.... the sassafras trail.
Sassafras was interesting. I passed a bunch of riders who were more fearful than I of the rocks... and boy were there ever rocks! I fell once, but managed to make it through pretty much unscathed. The down hill section was one of the most treacherous trails I've ever ridden. It was so steep that my seat was literally on my chest in order to keep my weight back to prevent myself from going over the handle bars. It felt like driving a rear wheel car in the snow without snow tires. It was a little jarring, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was certainly better than the climbing that lay ahead.
At mile 70, the aid station four crew said there were only two hills ahead. My stomach was feeling a little queezy after not having eaten solid food all day, but after 70 miles, what was 30 more? Well, two hills were actually three hills, and I began to emotionally fall apart around mile 85. I felt like I was going to cry. I tried to cry. I decided the best option was to take my time and intentionally not make the cut-off. That way I didn't have to decide whether or not to keep going; the aid station 5 folks would cut me and that would be that.
I did everything shy of sitting down to waste time so that I didn't have to make the decision to take a DNF 90 miles in to the 101... and then I met Michelle from Rochester.... We were passing each other repeatedly from mile 80 on and rolled into aid station 5 at the same time. It was 6:10 and as much as I had tried, I wasn't slow enough; 6:30 was the cut-off for those of us without lights. Michelle and I looked at each other after eating a few pieces of chocolate and decided that together, we were ready for the last 11 miles and what was truly the final hill.
The end was so close I managed to muster enough energy to ride all but the steepest section. Michelle and I crossed the finish line together at 13 hours on the dot.
It was quite the experience.... and I have to say, I can't wait for the next one - partially because it will only take me 10 hours but mostly for another excuse of fun riding with great company.
Thanks to CycleWorks' Sandie, Blake & Tim for taking me under their wing for the weekend!
