Half of Leadville

After forty eight miles on the trail I came to the darkness (more commonly known as the Snoqualmie Pass Tunnel), and all I had to combat the absence of light was my trusty Gerber pocket flashlight.

It's still cold in them thar hills, after four and a half hours of uphill riding I got to the cabin and immediately lit a fire to warm my feet.

Stottlemeyer 30 Mile Mountain Bike Race

What a great day of mountain bike racing.  A handful of Cucina Fresca teammates and I made the annual pilgrimage over the water to Port Gamble and the Stottlemeyer 30 mile mountain bike race.  The trail conditions and the weather probably couldn’t have been better.  I lined up with the 40-49 masters, which was grouped with the Men’s Open resulting in a total of 190 riders at the line – a bit crowded. 

A bit fuzzy but it gets the point across

The thirty mile race is broken down into two super technical laps, which begin after an initial two mile ride up a well-maintained fire road.  My technical skills have improved exponentially since last year, but I remain one of the more technically challenged riders on the course.

For the first lap there were probably five or six guys thinking, “that damned Cucina Fresca guy is driving me nuts,” because I’d pass these guys on the ascents and the fire roads and then they’d run up my butt on the technical stuff, I’d let them by and then we’d just repeat the process in another mile.  Fortunately these guys all stopped at the 15 mile aid station, which I blew through – thanks to 100 oz of water and 6 scoops of Sustained Energy in my Camelback.  Note for Leadville: the Camelback is key.

Any experienced triathlete will attest to the fact that the clock speeds up any time you stop during a race.  I've had transitions that I swore were less than a minute, but when I go back and look at the chip time I realize that I spent three to five minutes trying to get my shoes on.  With this in mind I didn't stop pedaling for the entire race and I'm positive that it bought me at least five minutes.

I didn’t cramp until the final 100 yards and I knocked 18 minutes off of last year’s time, so I’m super happy with my results.  I feel on track for the 60 mile race on June 8th at Echo Valley and Leadville in August.

After the race we hung out in the sun drinking cold Rainier, eating hot dogs and listening to the local high school rock band crank out some pretty good cover tunes.   A good day in the woods.

 

Stott 30

So here I am out looking for a full suspension mountain bike.  It never ends does it.

Yesterday I joined three teammates: Matt, Peter and Monica, at the Stottlemeyer 30 mile mountain bike race.  Holy crap 30 miles on a mountain bike is a bitch.  Here in the moist, heavily wooded Western Washington region the trails are tough man.  Hairpin switchbacks, tight trees and the roots, the freaking roots.  It’s just bam bam bam the entire time.

I have to say that I didn’t find the race all the physically exhausting; physiologically I was ready, but what I wasn’t ready for was the cramps and the mental fatigue.  Cramps seem endemic to endurance mountain biking events, perhaps because it’s because of the quick changes in cadence or perhaps it’s because you have to continually alter the amount of power you apply to the pedals: you can go from powering over a root, to spinning up a hill to standing over the seat on a descent all in less than a minute.  It tears your legs up.  The entire second lap was a fight against thigh and calf cramps.  I just couldn't push that hard withouot risking a sieze up.

About two miles into the second 15 mile lap I went over the handlebars and rang my bell right good.  I rode in a fog for about thirty minutes and I really had to concentrate on keeping my focus lest I go over the front again.  On long road rides, you can zone out for awhile and just let the miles go by, but on this mountain biking thing you have to be continually sharp, always on edge.  It really taxes your brain.

Stottlemeyer also offered a 60 mile, four lap, option.  Talk about a mind fuck.  That would just beat your mind and your body to smithereens.  I met a friend of mine, Tom, at the Edmonds ferry terminal; he and a couple of buddies were doing the 60.  They had won the lottery for the Leadville 100 and were using this as a training day.  I wonder how the terrain of Leadville would compare to Western Washington.  The Colorado altitude would certainly screw you, but it looks to me like most of Leadville is devoid of trees and thus you won’t have the brutal switchbacks and roots.  I’d like to get out there and ride some of that course just to see how the other half lives.