05.16.2014 | 2:07 pm
A Note from Fatty: Allison and Dave seem to have serious intentions on taking over my blog. Here’s their awesome ride report from last weekend, hanging out with WBR superstar Katie Bolling, along with Ted King and Joao Correia.
Even before the Trois Etapes Giro invitation happened, World Bicycle Relief had planned a fundraising ride with Joao Correia in Mill Valley, California, a few towns over from us. David had registered to ride and I had offered to help as a volunteer. Katie Bolling would be there in person, as would Jennifer Schofield of World Bicycle Relief, who is coordinating details for the Trois Etapes Giro.
We arranged to meet up Katie and Jennifer the day before the ride for coffee and some Trois Etapes chitchat.
Katie, Jennifer, Allison, and David. Note to self: never be photographed next to women who cycle a lot. It’s not slimming.
We talked about how great it would be to do a Team Fatty – World Bicycle Relief event in the future (would love to hear everyone’s ideas on that) and then confessed that we had not realized this was a race until after the plane ticket was booked. David shared his apprehension about what appeared to be a highly competitive event. Riding those stages is one thing, racing them is quite another. He naturally has the same worry that many of us would have… it’s a team competition and you don’t want to let your team down.
Jennifer and Katie did their best to assuage his concerns. Not sure it worked.
The next day we had perfect weather for the WBR ride. The amazing Dave Thompson and his son Rob drove up to ride as well. I feel the need to mention the fact that Mr. T. has gotten seriously fit (and svelte). There is no stomach sucking in required these days. His sweet son Rob continues to light up a room with his smile, and since I saw him last year, seems to be making great progress. We had fun conversing in Spanish, and I must say, he is quite the ladies’ man.
All the other women were getting their hands kissed by Rob except for me. Feeling left out, I commented that “I was married, not dead.” That netted me a few kisses at last.
YannB, with his fiancé Karen and daughter Isabella, joined us to see the riders off. Yann snapped this photo after Ted King came over to talk with us…or was it after we went over to corner talk to him? He was in town for the Amgen Tour of California and graciously came out to support World Bicycle Relief the day before. How awesome is that?
I was so excited excited to get the photo with Ted and the rest of our gang shown above, at least until the time came that I shared it on Facebook and several people made comments assuming he was my son. You know who you are. Really, my son? Ted King is 31. Rune is 10. Thanks for making me feel really old.
I cannot tell you how nice Ted King is. He seems to be an amazingly grounded and cool guy, and of course I would be proud to be his mother… except for the fact that I am far too young.
He shared with me that in addition to World Bicycle Relief, he focuses much of his own philanthropic efforts on organizations like the Krempels Center that are dedicated to helping with life after brain trauma. His dad had a stroke, so this is a personal area of passion for him. As you might imagine, he was very impressed with Dave and Rob. Then again, who isn’t?
As for the WBR event itself, it was a 25-mile ride with about 3,300 feet of climbing, some of it right along the California coastline. David joked that he got dropped by Joao and Ted at the first stoplight. I think he was joking (?). He did at least get to do part of the ride with Katie.
David trying to make Katie feel taller above Stinson Beach.
The ride also included a fabulous post-event pizza lunch, with ice cream, beer and other goodies. I had to leave before most of the riders (and the food) arrived, but from this online photo album I saw afterward, clearly a great time was had by all!
Katie, David, Rob, Dave and the Buffalo Bike
Katie and Joao.
So this was an inaugural WBR event for Northern California. David and I would love to see it become annual, or some variation of it. Who’s in for next year?
Otherwise, think good thoughts for David as he trains hard these next few weeks. You’ll be hearing his first-hand account of the Trois Etapes Giro experience upon his return sometime in mid-to-late June.
Assuming of course, he survives.
Comments (20)
05.15.2014 | 10:06 am
A Note from Fatty: Suppose — just suppose — you were sitting around, minding your own business, when you got an email with an incredible offer. The opportunity, perhaps, of a lifetime.
You probably wouldn’t believe it was real. But what if it were?
Today’s guest post comes from two of the very friendliest, most-generous Friends of Fatty you could ever meet.
Read. And envy.
Allison
May 5, 9:34 a.m.
I was in a virtual meeting, multi-tasking away since no one had turned on their webcams. I had just finished a Facebook post and was checking my personal email when a new message from Katie Bolling of World Bicycle Relief caught my attention:
World Bicycle Relief invitation (out of the blue) for a ride in Italy.
Invitation….Ride….Italy? Even if this had come from a Nigerian Prince and was spelled “ride,” you’d have to open it!
I immediately clicked to read it, thus completely losing the small amount of focus I had been giving to what was being said on my conference call.
Dear Allison and David,
This email may catch you out of the blue but I hope you give it some strong consideration.
World Bicycle Relief is associated with a series of events called the Trois Etapes. We have one spot left on the WBR team for the Trois Etapes Giro ride that is coming up in June (June 6-9). Since we already paid for the spot, we thought the next best thing would be to give it to one of our VIP supporters who have helped great things happen for World Bicycle Relief, and naturally we thought of Fatty.
I’ll be honest and say that we offered the spot to either Lisa or Elden in gratitude for all that the Fat Cyclist has done for World Bicycle Relief over the years but they are unable to make it work due to job commitments and the close timing.
When I heard this “no” from Elden, I thought the next best thing would be to offer it to a Fatty supporter who has been very kind and generous towards World Bicycle Relief through all of his efforts and, naturally, you two were at the top of that list and hence my note to you. I would love to give this spot to one of you two. For one of you to have the opportunity to go ride the Trois Etapes Giro on the World Bicycle Relief team as a way to say a HUGE thank you to the entire Fat Cyclist community and to hopefully also give you the chance to share this experience in Fatty’s community in the hopes WBR can potentially field a full Fat Cyclist/WBR Trois Etapes team sometime in the next few years.
I want to be clear that we would love to give this to you. Your only expense would be getting to Venice, and back for the event.
There was more – but that’s the main of it. And yeah, WOW is right!
Later the important question occurred to us. If Fatty says “no,” should you immediately say “yes?” I’m guessing Fatty read the details first.
[No, I didn’t ever get as far as the details. The timing just wasn’t possible for me, so I had to pass. - FC]
Details/Schmetails
Now I do need to confess, all I really saw were:
- World Bicycle Relief
- Italy
- Bike ride
- Italy
- 4 days
- Fatcyclist community event
- Italy
- World Bicycle Relief
- most expenses paid except airfare
- Italy
You get the gist.
What an incredible opportunity! Especially for David, knowing him like I do. How could David not go? We are certainly financially comfortable, but something like this would be a pretty big stretch, and not one we would easily make with two kids headed for college.
So this was a dream come true for someone who absolutely loves to ride (David), has a real explorer’s and traveler’s heart (David), and is truly passionate about the work WBR does (David). And yes, I realize these also describe nearly every Fatcyclist reader (not to mention Elden and Lisa)!
Lastly, David had just celebrated another decade a few days earlier with only a small cake and no candles. [California drought, fire hazard. - David]
So at the time, this all seemed like a dream meant to be.
Scant minutes after reading Katie’s email invitation, I made a quick excuse on my conference call: “So sorry, I have to drop off – *mumble, mumble, family emergency* – I’ll follow back up with you all later today.”
Can you believe anyone employs me?
I phoned David at work. “Are you sitting down?” I asked. “I mean that literally. You need to be sitting for this!”
I read him the email….
David
May 5, 9:39 a.m.
It’s rarely a good sign when the phone rings in retail a ½ hour before opening, exceptions can occur.
“Are you sitting down?” she asked. “I mean that literally. You need to be sitting down for this!”
I put down my Diet Coke and my perfectly fresh jelly doughnut and said, “Yes.”
Several thoughts went through my head simultaneously. “Sure” came first. Next came “Exactly how much have we been giving?” (Note to self: check college accounts)
Yes, it would be a dream to ride in Italy. But the idea of being invited to join such a ride is humbling in the extreme (and I’m all about humble). I told Wife#1 a quavering “yes,” and proceeded to request the time off.
Later I looked at the Trois Etapes website and watched the Promotional video:
Allison
Leaving David to recover from the shock, I emailed Katie and WBR back, thanking them profusely and letting them that know David was in! I added that we both hoped to participate together in the future if when there was a whole Team Fatty event.
(How awesome would a Team Fatty/WBR event like this be? Hard to imagine having much more fun than doing a multi-day ride in some fabulous location with a bunch of Fatty peeps.)
I also assured Katie and Jennifer Schofield (you’ll meet her later), that I would get going on all his logistics immediately.
At this point I still had not read the details. It was “ride in Italy” and I wasn’t doing it, David was.
What else could possibly matter?
David’s passport was current. Yay!
Then…I started shopping around for airfare. Yikes!
Then I discovered all the various rules and fees associated with bringing a bicycle. Double yikes!
And not just any bicycle, either. David is a tall guy and rides a 63cm frame. Those don’t even fit in most bike travel cases.
Oy, this was going to be a pain.
Still… once in a lifetime opportunity, a ride in Italy with World Bicycle Relief! We simply had to make this happen, whatever it took, and honestly, I was (and still am) just as excited for David as if I was going myself.
It was the next day that I finally visited theTrois Etapes website myself and even more horrifyingly, watched the video. I suppose the Troise Etapes logo itself should have been the first clue that this was a bit more than a “ride in Italy”.
Oh, I get it now. Those aren’t just squiggly lines in the logo…they represent mountain passes, getting progressively harder.
Ride? No. It’s a race. And kind of a real one at that. Yes I knew the ride would be in the Italian Dolomites, so all three days will be in the mountains, but this is a multi-day pro-am race in the Italian Dolomites.
[Do you have any idea how much it kills me to not be doing this? - FC]
The second clue I should have cottoned on to is that Trois Etapes means three stages. Rides don’t have stages; races have stages.
D’oh!
So in summary, Trois Etapes has multiple teams, each representing a different charitable organization, competing to win. The entire event is staged to allow the riders the closest experience they can get to what a professional race would be like.
Each team has seven amateur riders (imagine me doing finger quotes over the word amateur) and one professional rider. For the WBR Team, Songezo Jim from Team MTN Qhubeka is the pro that will be riding with them, which is awesome.
Let me add to that there will also apparently be race radios, team support cars and masseurs; the stages are timed, with various classification points and actual benefits for the winning team.
People, this is a race.
And if you don’t believe me, let me point you back to the beginning of this post. All the riders have to get a racing license.
Yes, David had to get an International Racing License.
*Cue laugh track*
Should you feel the need to have one of these bad boys for yourself, Molly at USA Cycling could not be more helpful. And should this particular time in your own life put you in the position of also being in the “Masters Category”, well hey, then it’s only $175 rather than $200.
Apparently AARP negotiated a discount.
Just remember that you will also have to get a note from your doctor that you are fit enough to participate. In fact, David will be meeting his primary care physician for the first time because of this event.
David
It’s been one week…
“Stunned” is an understatement.
Honored doesn’t begin to cover it.
And, after reading the information, watching the video, and checking the profile, the only words that come to mind are…”I’m screwed!”
I Love to Ride, I tolerate climbing, I LOVE the Fat Cyclist Community, and I admire Elden and Lisa, and their family. Being invited to participate in such an event, on behalf of that community is a responsibility that weighs heavily on me. I’ll go, I’ll ride hard all day, but I’m bringing my light (it will definitely be a Lanterne Rouge).
We had the opportunity to meet with Katie and Jennifer from WBR last weekend at a local innaugural WBR event. Jennifer of WBR said, “you’ll be fine,” but she’s a smiling, young, idealistic thing, that hasn’t yet imagined the horrors of someone my age.
Final Thoughts
I’m as old as Godzilla and I have an International Racing License (ironic), not sure even Elden has one of those [I don’t have any racing licenses at all - FC]. Though if they make me pee in a cup all bets are off!
I have a note from my Australian bike-riding Doctor that says I’m fit to ride (I shopped around).
WBR has my measurements for my team kit (3 sets), though I suspect they may be sewing ‘panels’ into them as I write this.
Yesterday I did 55 miles, 4500 ft climbing in 95 degree heat, so that’s a start. (When do I go? June third? Yikes!)
It will be an adventure. I would not be able to do it without the support of Wife#1, my children, Katie and Jennifer of WBR, and my friends in the Fat Cyclist Community.
Thank You!
PS: It’s been seven days since my last doughnut.
Comments (43)
05.12.2014 | 9:49 am
I love doing posts like this. Posts where I get to introduce you to contest winners. Because, for some reason, pretty much every Fat Cyclist contest winner winds up being an awesome human being.
Maybe it’s cuz the kind of person who is willing to donate money to a great cause is just unlikely to not be a great person.
Hey, I’m not going to overanalyze it. I’m just going to be grateful.
And I’m going to introduce you to Heidi from Montana, the winner of The Hammer’s Weekend at the Gooseberry Yurt fundraiser for World Bicycle Relief.
Heidi with her niece, on top of Mount Sentinel.
I’m really excited for Heidi to be the winner of this contest, for a bunch of reasons, including (but not limited to):
- She’s donated in every single WBR fundraiser I’ve done. It’s really fun to be able to reward that kind of consistency, generosity, and kindness.
- She’s a hiker. Heidi doesn’t ride — doesn’t even have a bike. She loves hiking. And — in a stroke of pure luck — she’s won the first contest we’ve ever done that doesn’t have a bike as a prize, or a trip to a bike-style event…but instead has a trip to a place that’s every bit as perfect for someone who loves hiking as biking. Even more perfectly, both The Hammer and I love hiking too, and are absolutely positively stoked to show off some of the amazing hiking trails at Zion National Park, as well as around Gooseberry Mesa.
- She’s super-duper nice. I haven’t met Heidi in real life, but I’ve been watching over The Hammer’s shoulder as the two of them have traded email. I’m going to use some of that email exchange to introduce you to Heidi, but basically: she’s a kind, easygoing, and interesting person.
So here’s a little bit about Heidi, in her own words:
Okay, now that I’ve recovered somewhat from the lovely surprise, I should thank you profusely and introduce myself.
I’m Heidi, a yarn dyer living in Missoula Montana. I first became acquainted with Elden’s blog quite some time back when one of his posts was listed as a favorite on Schmutzie’s Five Star Fridays, where readers could post outstanding blog entries they’d read that week. Elden was caring for Susan, and his writing was so very eloquent.
I’ve been a fan ever since, even though–dare I admit it?–I don’t even own a bike. There, I said it.
I do hike, though! I logged 118 hikes last year. The photo above was taken a few weeks ago when my “Montana Niece” took me to the top of Mount Sentinel. (The area I usually hike is in the middle left expanse.) Yes, I definitely felt my thighs the next day.
WBR is one of my favorite groups to donate to. This is a program that brings such obvious, positive change to people’s lives, and my hat goes off to the people who have worked so hard to make it happen. Writing a check to a big organization is one thing, but seeing the photos of people with their new bikes, well, that makes it real. I’m in! And hey, just think–because of it I get to meet Fatty and the Hammer! Life just gets better and better.
For our part, The Hammer and I are both really excited to show Heidi views like this:
And this:
A big thanks goes out to everyone who donated in The Hammer’s first big fundraiser — thanks to you, she raised enough to buy 132 bikes for kids and caregivers in Zambia!
Comments (28)
05.8.2014 | 9:58 am
A Note from Fatty: Last weekend, friends and I went and did our annual RAWROD — Ride Around White Rim in One Day — trip. I planned to write it up, but then my friend Bob, who is a much better writer than I am, wrote a much better story than I would have and let me steal it from his blog. You’re welcome.
When adventure writers tell their stories, they start with the dramatic ending.
Dramatic Ending
May 3, 8:30 PM – After riding the White Rim Trail in one day, Paul decides he’s done riding for the weekend and starts the drive home to St. George. He pulls over and dry heaves.
May 3, 9:00 PM – After riding the White Rim Trail in one day, Dug and his son Holden drive into the parking lot of Moab Brewery. Holden tells Dug to stop the car, now. He opens the door in front of the overflow crowd waiting to get a table at the restaurant, and vomits. The crowd looks on in horror.
May 3, 11:15 PM - Dug and Holden return to camp and climb in their sleeping bags, waking me up from a happy slumber. Dug warns me that Holden has been sick. He tells Holden to use a bag of donut gems in case he needs to vomit. Holden uses it. He continues to wake up and vomit into different containers over the course of the night.
May 3, 11:30 PM – The last pair of cyclists complete their ride in the dark with little fanfare. Everyone else is asleep or dealing with sickness.
May 4, 3:00 AM – 30 miles away from the White Rim Trail, Lisa vomits in her hotel room.
May 4, 4:00 AM – Unable to deal with the peer pressure, I crawl out of the tent and vomit in the sand.
Adventure writers also shift dramatically from present tense to past tense.
The Beginning
After having done a 4-hour, 20-mile mountain bike ride on Friday—my longest mountain bike ride of the year—we drove to the top of Horsethief Trail and set up camp at the parking lot.
Kenny has been hosting this event for years, but this year was special—his 50th birthday. He was also doing something different this year. No sag wagon, and no group really. The only plan was to meet at Musselman Arch for photos, and then everyone was on their own, or hopefully in pairs.
We knew the next day was going to be a hot one, so we loaded up as much water as we could carry. My backpack had two one-liter bladders and a few gels and nut rolls, and my bike carried two bottles. I stuffed other food packets in my jersey pockets.
The goal was to leave at 7:00 AM. I wanted to take off a little earlier than everyone else because I’m one of the slower riders, but that was ruined when I woke up sluggish and wandered around like the camp idiot.
I was glad to hear that Paul decided to make a go of it. After the previous day’s ride, he had lost some of his confidence and wasn’t sure he wanted to try it.
On the ride from the Horsethief parking lot back out to Highway 313, I felt weak and uncomfortable under my heavy pack, but happy to be with friends and doing a ride I hadn’t done in almost two decades.*
* In truth, I’ve never actually done the full 100-mile ride before. We always skipped the 13-mile stretch of dirt road.
When the 13-mile stretch of rolling dirt road ended, we gulped down cached drinks and headed up the 8-mile paved road towards the National Park camp entrance.
It was at the camp entrance where I had perhaps my finest moment of the day. My performance in the outhouse was nothing short of spectacular. The golf equivalent would be to bend a 3-iron from the deep rough around a tree and to within 10 feet of the pin. As I emerged from the outhouse, happy and light, I raised my hand in a polite yes-I-acknowledge-your-applause-and-I’m-secretly-thrilled-but-want-to-act-cool wave to my imaginary audience, who really had no business being there, imaginary or no.
Because of my majestic delay, we were now behind the other riders by several minutes. Entering Shafer Trail reminded me of how beautiful this area was.
As I started the Shafer descent, I noticed that my front brake wasn’t working. Elden had loaned me his rigid single-speed bike for the trip, which is kind of him, but the bike wasn’t in great shape. One of the bottle cages was broken, the rear tire was bald, and the power brake was out. I normally wouldn’t say bad things about Elden’s loaner bike—mouth, meet gift horse—but Elden frequently disguises his generous heart with vile meanness. For example, after the ride, here’s what he texted me:
“it was great to see you — bummed i didn’t ride a ton with you, but i am far too strong to hold back at your pace”
Not wanting to fly off any of the switchbacks, I did a slow descent, skidding wildly around corners with only a rear brake and bald tires.
Paul and I met up at the bottom and rode hurriedly at a leisurely pace, if that makes any sense. We arrived at Musselman Arch to see other riders hanging out. Someone in our group took this picture.
A Note From Fatty: Here’s another shot at Musselman’s Arch, this one of (left to right), me, Lisa, Bob, Dug, and Holden]
After a couple of group photos and general milling around, we got back on our bikes. That was the last I saw of the Kenny, Heather, Elden, Lisa, and the rest of the fast riders.
The ride from Musselman to White Crack, which is roughly the half-way point, consists of a series of bends that wind around canyons. You descend slightly as you ride away from the rim and then ascend slightly as you ride back towards the rim. Rinse and repeat.
The flowers and cactuses were blooming. At around 10:30 AM, it was already hot. Here, I turned around for the camera to capture the purple flowers, which unfortunately got washed out in this picture.
[A Note from Fatty: I didnt’ have a lot better luck getting pictures of the expanse of purple flowers, but I got a pretty good close-up of one of them, below]
[Another Note from Fatty: There were incredible yellow flowers on some of the bushes, too — all in all, I’ve never seen the desert look so beautiful.]
Once we finally got around that last mesa that we had been looking at in the distance for hours, we biked through a wide open desert. As we made the turn and headed northwest, I noticed a nice breeze coming from the south.
People accuse the White Rim Trail of having a constant headwind regardless of the direction you’re going. For the record, on May 3, 2014, I do hereby proclaim that we had no wind during the first half of the ride and a mild tail wind during the second half of the ride.
Progress
In my memory, the major checkpoints—Shafer, Musselman, Vertigo Void, Murphy’s Hogback, Hardscrabble Hill, and Horsethief—were spread out fairly evenly. In reality, Shafer and Musselman are close to each other, Vertigo and Murphy’s are only a mile or two apart, and there’s a huge distance between Musselman and Vertigo.
The tentative plan was to eat lunch at Vertigo Void, but several of us weren’t riding fast enough for it to make sense to wait that long. Paul and I ate our lunch in the slim shade of a juniper bush, and pressed on.
By the time Paul and I reached Vertigo Void, the other riders were gone. Here’s what they had been up to:
Paul wanted to keep pushing on, knowing that we had three difficult climbs in front of us, including Murphy’s Hogback in a short while.
The ride up Murphy’s is steep and loose. Paul and I didn’t even try to ride up the steep pitches. When I last did the White Rim Trail back when Bill Clinton was POTUS, Dug and I took pride in being able to clean all the moves. Now, I thought, How did I ever ride up that? In retrospect, I am in awe of my 32-year-old self. In fairness, my 32-year-old self was riding a geared bike with suspension, not a rigid single-speed. So I’m proud of my 51-year-old self as well. Good job, mes present and past.
After pushing our bikes to the top, Paul and I ate a snack and watched a few other riders do the long climb. Cori, who was hanging back with his girlfriend Emily, cleaned it. So did Jolene, who was hanging back to help out a struggling rider.
Cori then proposed to Emily at the top of Murphy’s Hogback. She accepted.
I thought that group of people represented the last of the pack (the gruppetto for you Tour de France fans), but it turns out that a couple of riders were even further back.
Suffering
There was a nice long drop down the other side of Murphy’s Hogback, and then there was, for me, the most difficult part of the ride. It was hot, 90-degree weather. We had been on our bikes all day long. Eating was hard, and Paul stopped trying to eat altogether, relying on CarboRocket for his energy. CarboRocket, where energy meets experience. CarboRocket, a boost of freedom. CarboRocket, for her pleasure.
The heat was getting to me. I was weary, colicky, and dragging behind Paul, Cori, and Emily. I talked Paul into stopping so that I could transfer water from one bladder to the other and down some ibuprofen, and Cori and Emily pulled ahead for good.
For the next stretch of trail, I don’t remember much. For me, every endurance ride has the same characteristics:
- Pre-ride excitement
- The this-is-never-going-to-end section
- The problem (neck pain, hot spots, sunburn, not enough water, can’t eat, can’t poop, stomach, mechanical)
- Crux fatigue (or worse, bonk)
- Resignation to suffering
- Energizing homestretch
- Emotional finish
Riding near Candlestick, I was dealing with the crux fatigue, which Dug calls the “cave of pain.” I didn’t bonk, but I was miserable. I was saddle-sore, my feet hurt, my neck hurt, my legs were cramping.
Jolene’s group of riders caught up to us at the start of Hardscrabble Hill. Paul and I again walked our bikes up, relieved to be off the saddles.
Bry also caught up with us and told me he was running low on water because he was giving it all away to an embattled friend. I told him I had plenty of extra water, so I filled one of his bottles with CarboRocket.
The Homestretch
Once we got to the top of Hardscrabble Hill, where you can look down at the trail as it runs along the Green River, everything turned around for me. The ibuprofen had finally kicked in, so my neck pain was mostly gone, and I had adjusted to the suffering. All I needed to do was keep riding another 11 or so miles along the Green River before the big finish up Horsethief.
Here’s a picture that Paul took of me with my camera. I rode down a bit and then rode back up to face the camera:
This was a beautiful section of trail. We got a nice cloud cover, a tail wind, and cooler temperatures as it approached evening.
Paul had a GPS on his bike, so we knew exactly how far we had to ride before the start of Horsethief. That helped us avoid wondering if the turn-off was right after this next bend, or maybe the next one. We knew we still had 7 miles to go, or 4 miles to go, or 2 miles to go. Horsethief is at mile 99, period, end of story. And then it’s 1.5 miles of climbing.
Here’s a picture of Horsethief that Todd Winner took.
After Elden and Lisa finished their ride, they jumped in their car and drove down to the bottom of Horsethief to help struggling riders. They asked Paul and me if we needed extra water, or if they could take our camelbaks, but we both declined stubbornly. We did agree to gulp down an ice-cold Coke that Lisa fished out of a cooler.
Here’s a picture of Dug’s son Holden, also getting a Coke from Elden and Lisa at the bottom of Horesthief:
At the top of Horsethief, the riders who had finished sat in chairs at the top of the hill, watching, cheering, cajoling.
I decided that I wanted to try to ride up Horsethief. I let some air out of the bald rear tire so that I wouldn’t have to stay seated to avoid skidding out and hammered up the first long stretched before it turned into switchbacks. Sadly, I had to push my bike up a couple of stretches. I like to think that I would have made it had Elden loaned me a better bike.
Then I rode up the last few switchbacks, doing everything in my power—including what Dug called the “paper boy”—to stay on my bike. Dug took this picture of me. I think that’s Paul a little further down the hill.
“Go Bobby!” “Don’t fall!” “Paul is catching you!” “Stay on your bike!”
Here’s Paul riding up Horsethief:
Here’s Paul finishing:
And here’s me the morning after the ride:
Great adventure.
Special thanks to Kenny, Heather, Dug, Elden, Lisa, and Paul for all your help.
Comments (28)
05.7.2014 | 3:25 am
A Note from Fatty: Now, just when you thought I was done with 6 Hours in Frog Hollow stories…The Hammer’s writeup!
6 hours in Frog Hollow…well, maybe it should have been called 6 Hours in Rabbit Hollow — seems like their were a lot of bunnies on the course!
Pre-Race Pondering
The first race of the season…..do I race, or do I have fun (‘cuz race and fun are not the same)? What should my goal be? Should I race singlespeed or geared? Do we need a crew for a six-hour event, and if so, who can we get? Am I ready? Will I be faster than last year? How will my new bike work?
So many questions.
Even with all those questions, though, I was pretty excited about the race. I really liked the 25 Hours in Frog Hollow. The course was awesome–a little bit of everything!
The rumor was that the course had changed a little. They had removed some of the technical parts and replaced them with flowier singletrack. I was a little disappointed; I like the challenge of the technical rock section, and am probably better at that than I am on fast singletrack. But I looked forward to trying out the new course.
After a lot of contemplation I decided: I would race, but with my goal being to get five laps in; I wasn’t going to worry about who I beat or who beat me.
And also, I would go with my new geared bike: my Specialized S-Works Stumpjumper 29” hardtail, built up with top-end SRAM parts I got because we hit (and crushed) the WBR Grand Slam 5 fundraising goal! (Thank you!)
I figured that since I am going to be racing the Leadville Trail 100 (my tenth) with gears this year. “I may as well get in some practice,” I told myself.
The field for solo women was huge compared to the very few women I would have been racing against if I had chosen Singlespeed Solo. About 28 women had signed up to do solo–with a few pros in the mix. Looking at previous years’ results, I could see that my goal of five laps which could potentially get me a top-five finish.
And Elden somehow convinced me that taking top five in a field of 28 riders would be more prestigious than winning singlespeed with a field of 2. I don’t know if he really practices what he preaches, seeing how he always races with a smaller group in the singlespeed division!
My darling daughter had volunteered to crew for us. The weather forecast was to be for the low 70’s. It looked like it was going to be a perfect day for racing.
Pre-Race, Pre-Ride
We arrived Friday afternoon, set up our crewing spot next to Heather and Kenny and went out on a pre-ride of the course. My first impression was…that I love my new bike! For some reason I am able to descend a lot more confidently on it then on my singlespeed.
The five mile climb at the beginning of the course was awesome. I would easily rocket up it on my geared bike! However, the eight-mile descent that follows would potentially be my downfall. And I also concluded that the change in course did not really suit my riding style. The new trail was soft. I could easily picture myself plowing my front wheel into the soft dirt in a corner and having the bike wash out from under me.
“I guess tomorrow will be my day of reckoning,” I thought to myself.
Let the Race Begin!
We arrived at the venue the next morning, well-fed (???) on Days Inn waffles and McDonalds coffee. You can’t ask for a better breakfast…can you?
I dressed myself in full Easter Rabbit attire, since the race promoter had announced that the theme for the race was Easter. Hey, I was gonna have fun at this race!
Oh yeah, I was coming to race, not have fun. I forgot for a moment.
Oh well, at least I would have an excuse when I didn’t make my five-lap goal: I could always blame the ears! I had lost my aero advantage because of my ears!
As I lined up for the Le Mans-style start, I looked around at the competition. Like it always does, at every starting line, that was when the self-doubt started.
“Everyone else is so fit. Why am I here? I’m no good. I suck. My downhill skills are pathetic. People will be yelling at me all day to get out of the way. What am I even doing here?”
The horn blew; my mind turned off and the animal was released.
I wanted to get to my bike before Elden did. I wanted to get off to a good start. I didn’t want to get caught behind someone slow on the ascending single track.
I grabbed my bike from Melisa and was off.
As I was clipping into my pedals I noticed a small blonde girl in a Plan7 Kit starting to pull away. I tagged her as my number one competition. I had no idea who she was…or if she was even riding solo. But she looked fast, and I wanted to beat her.
Up We Go
The climb started out good. I followed a guy with dreadlocks onto the singletrack. He was moving slightly slower than I would have — which was good, because I was able to take the opportunity to catch my breath. There was no one behind me and we made good time up the singletrack. As soon as the road opened up, it turned downhill and the guy with dreads flew away.
It was on the next climb that I heard my honey. Elden came rolling past me with a friendly “l love you.” I was slightly surprised that it had taken him so long to pass me. He stayed in my sight until the top of the climb; he then turned downhill and was gone.
As the climb continued, l eventually caught “Mr. Dreadlocks” (as I had mentally named him) and passed him with a friendly “Hey.” But I was also passed by the girl in the Plan7 Kit (I mentally named her “Plan7”)…with not so much as a “Hello!”
The nerve!
“Maybe she isn’t my competition,” I thought. “Maybe she’s way out of my league!”
Down Time
At just past five miles on the course, the climb tops out and turns downhill. The first part is truly like a roller coaster. Even I — someone who does not like to descend — love the JEM Trail.
However, there is one very technical, scary part on JEM. It involves switchbacks on a cliff. I walked this section of trail seventeen times at the 25 Hours in Frog Hollow. (As a result of this, I have a black toenail that should be falling off any day now.)
It was at this time that I caught up with Plan7. She was walking too! That was a good sign; maybe she struggled with down hilling too?
Still, she was able to get down the switchbacks before me, jumped on her bike and was gone! Maybe I was wrong and she was another Heather (Heather is an amazing downhiller).
Still, descending felt good. My bike was handling well, so I was feeling really cocky as I approached a technical rocky section. I had ridden this section a few times the day before, trying to find the best line. I was confident I would fly through this section. I had a guy hot on my tail as I rolled into the rocky section.
And flew I did…..right over my handle bars and into the bush. My front wheel hit the rock and I was catapulted right over my handle bars!
How embarrassing.
The guy behind me stopped to help; I assured him I was fine…except for my pride. With a surge of adrenaline, I jumped back on my bike and took off.
Passing…And Getting Passed
It was on the return on the dirt road climb that I caught up with Plan7 Lori. I was quite ecstatic that I had caught her again. As I pedaled up alongside her, I asked her name. She didn’t seem very friendly — I guess she had her game face on. She was probably thinking that it was “no time for jibber jabber.”
She said her name was Lori (but I still called her “Plan7” in my mind), and I told her I was Lisa.
And then I pedaled away.
I quickly passed two “bunnies” (girls with bunny ears like mine mounted on their helmets), complimenting them on their cute ears and extremely fine taste.
Soon the road turned back to single track and the bunnies passed me….as did Plan7. They passed me, but were not putting too much distance between us.
On the ¼ mile stretch to the finish line, I turned it on. As I passed the bunnies, I encouraged them to turn on the gas and catch Lori/Plan7, who was a little ahead.
I guess they didn’t think it was as important as I did, because when I caught up and passed Lori, they were nowhere around. I crossed the line in one 1:00:30. There was no hope for 6 laps for me, and I had a feeling it was gonna a be a battle for time for me to get five laps in.
Let’s Do This Again!
Lori crossed the finish line mere seconds after me. I quickly fueled with some Coke and a Rice Krispie Treat. Melisa did an excellent job of having everything ready! She is the best.
As I headed out, I passed Lori as she was refueling at her tent. I charged past her up the first hill, feeling fantastic. As I excited the single track section I caught up with Mr. Dreadlocks again! I was amazed enough that I introduced myself and complimented him on his downhill skills, seeing how I was just barely catching him again! As I walked the sketchy switchbacks, Dreads came by me again yelling encouragement. I wondered whether I would see him again.
As I remounted my bike, Lori was nowhere to be seen. Yippee! I had a lead on her on the descent.
As I zoomed on down the trail, I noticed my bike was starting to creak.
Ugh! I hoped that this was not a bad sign. After all, the trail was super dusty. My chain was super dusty. Even I was super dusty!. Maybe it was just creaking due to dust.
Crrrreeeeaaaaak
At one point about two miles before the timing tent, the trail makes a hard right from the singletrack to a road where you start to climb again slightly — essentially, you’re doubling back. It’s a perfect opportunity to look and see who’s right behind you. It was here that I saw Lori; she wasn’t very far behind. I crossed the line in 1:00:57, and Lori was just 2 1/2 minutes behind me.
After I finished refueling and started the climb for the third time, I passed Lori, who was stopped at her tent and refueling again. This time, I was feeling a little less frisky…and my bike was getting louder!
Once again on the final climb I passed Dreads. I also passed a few “Fatty” fans who were very encouraging. Then, as I began the descent, my “climbing friends” — the people I seemed to be passing on each climb — passed me again.
My bike was making so much noise now that I was constantly looking behind me…thinking someone was back there. But it was no one but my chain.
This time as I was descending, things didn’t seem to be going as well. There was something up with my bike. I was really hoping that Kenny—who was racing duo with Heather–would be at the crewing tent, not out on a lap. Maybe he could take a look at my bike!
I crossed the line in 1:07, with Lori still just two minutes behind me.
As I approached our tent I started screaming, “Kenny? Kenny?! Where is KENNY?!”
Melisa ran to the sprinter van, where Kenny would usually be as he got ready for his next lap.
No Kenny.
Then, to my relief, Kenny came sprinting across the road! He had heard me! (Really, how could he not?)
I quickly explained the situation, and he grabbed my bike, put it on the stand and started working. He lubed my chain and checked my tire pressure. He was shocked to find it was at only 10psi! No wonder the bike didn’t feel right. He quickly inflated my tires and I was off.
Thanks, Kenny! You are the best!
Catching Up To Do
As I approached the climb for the fourth time, I saw that Lori was now ahead of me! Feeling a little burst of adrenaline in my system, I passed Lori…yelling words of encouragement, of course.
The climb was harder this time. I was being chased. Lori was right behind me, and I was feeling the pressure. I caught Dreads again and passed him. I told him we couldn’t have done this if we tried!
And of course, as usual, he passed me again on the switchbacks.
I looked back and was surprised that Lori was not on my tail. My bike was feeling a lot better; it’s amazing what a difference a few pounds of pressure can do for handling.
I bombed down, feeling quite happy with my skill, but more importantly I was having a blast! The trail was fantastic. The weather was perfect! The day was going great!
As I left the singletrack and did the hard right turn, I held my breath and looked back.
No Lori.
Yahoo!
Ew, Gross
I settled into a comfortable pace on the climb, then turned my head a blew a huge snot rocket.
Which is when I found out — to my utter amazement and horror — that Lori was on my tail. My “rocket” probably had landed on her leg!
I apologized profusely.
She said she didn’t mind; after all, she was dirty anyway. What a lady, I like her!
But where had she come from? She must have been so close I didn’t see her. She continued to stay right on my tail until the trail returned to singletrack. At that point, I conceded and told her to take the lead. She gratefully accepted.
I tried by best to stay with her. I was impressed with myself that I was hanging with her. Then we came upon another rider. She yelled to pass. He pulled over, Lori passed…and the guy wrecked in the trail right in front of me! UGH! What an ethical dilemma! Do you yell, “Outta my way! There goes my lead!” Or do you stop and help the guy up?
I stopped and helped him up.
He was pretty dazed, but seemed otherwise OK. So once he was okay, I took off again. I could barely see Lori, but she wasn’t beyond catching. I crossed the line in 1:07; Lori did that lap in 1:06.
Last Lap
After hurriedly fueling up, I pulled back onto the course the same time as Lori. I caught her on the first climb. I yelled–quite seriously— “Let’s finish this off!” and I was off.
I knew I had only one chance. I needed to put enough time on the climb that she would never catch me on the descent. So I stood up and cranked…and then I sat down, utterly exhausted.
“How am I gonna pull this off?” I asked myself.
At that moment I felt a kindly pat on my back and nice big push! I looked up to see Ryan. I work with Ryan, and he is super fast. He was currently kicking some serious butt in the Duo Men’s category. He shouted some words of encouragement and then was gone! But his push renewed my ambition and I was off.
The climbs seemed a lot harder this time as I pedaled. I never saw Dreads on this lap; I guess I actually caught and passed him at the end of lap four — everyone was starting to feel the fatigue.
I was hoping Lori might be feeling that fatigue, too.
Hi, Fatty
I reached the top and zoomed. I never looked back. I was telling myself that Lori was right behind me and I needed to pedal as fast I could. As I made the hard right onto the road, I glanced back. No Lori in sight, but I knew better than to believe it. I just kept pedaling.
Then, as I came around a corner, I saw a bright orange jersey on the horizon! Could that be? No, it couldn’t be…Elden? To my surprise, it was.
I started whooping and hollering. I doubted that he could hear me–the wind had started to pick up. I was so excited to see him. I thought maybe he had conceded his postion and decided to cross the line with me. What a genuine sweetheart. I love that man.
But I was in a conundrum.
I needed to keep my speed up. I couldn’t slow down and chit chat. I needed to pass Elden and keep going. Im sure he would understand, right?
So as I approached, I yelled out, cheerfully, “Hey Mr. Nelson, you need to move over, I’m coming through.”
His response was simple: “I am over.” And then I passed him.
Uh oh. That wasn’t a “happy Elden” voice. Ugh. “Should I stop and see what’s wrong?” I thought. I settled for yelling over my shoulder, ““Are you there? Are you OK?”
“Yes I’m here and I’m fine,” he said, flatly. Which I could tell meant that clearly he was not ok. Crap. Crap. Crap.
I honestly wasn’t sure what to do. I knew he would want me to keep pedaling. He would be mad if I stopped. So, I pedaled — and he stayed with me. I was still scared to turn around. I didn’t want to see Lori there too!
I kept shouting, “Are we alone?” But he couldn’t hear. Finally I turned back and looked. We were alone. We entered the last quarter-mile stretch on the road. Elden pulled up along side me. I quickly explained I had been rallying with a gal the whole race, and I thought I might beat her!
Finish Line And After
Elden and I crossed the finish line together! I hugged him – so grateful to have him with me at the finish line. Lori came in just a minute behind me. I jumped off my bike and embraced her, thanking her for making me ride faster than I’ve ever ridden. She kind of looked at me funny.
I think she thought I was a deranged bunny.
I had taken second in the Solo Female division; Lori had taken third.
Joey — the pro who took first — is obviously not in this picture; she hadn’t arrived at the park in time for our division awards.
Here’s our final times:
Later, Elden recounted his race story to me. I was amazed at our similairities. I guess it follows the old adage. “You win some, you lose some.” This time I pulled out a minute over lori, and Elden lost a minute to Mike.
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