Sunday, August 14, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
CB Alpine Oddysey (Leadville Qualifier)- Racing with Lance
Yesterday is worthy of a lengthy blog post, so here it goes.
Since the Firecracker 50 on the 4th of July I have been on the "just ride for fun" plan. This bike season has been up and down for me, with some good results and some bad luck. I opted to not take the trip up to National Championships in Sun Valley a couple weeks ago and instead enjoy the local trails with friends. The high alpine riding is finally dry, the wildflowers are spectacular and the trails are tacky making for some awesome trail riding. Crested Butte was the host for the final Leadville 100 qualifying race over the weekend and even I had no desire to race Leadville, I'm not one to pass up a local race. I figured I would take the “just for fun” approach with it. I showed up to pick up my number on Saturday afternoon and heard the rumor that Lance was racing. Of course my reaction was, "Yeah, right." However, it was announced at the race meeting that he was on his way over. So much for a casual pace....
Sure enough Lance Armstrong rolled up to the start line a couple minutes before 6:30 am. Of course I’m thinking, "Wow, I'm getting to race Lance again on a mountain bike." I raced against him a couple summers ago in Snowmass at a Mountain States Cup race and it was pretty anti-climatic. The race started and immediately Lance rode off the front and was out of sight within 5 minutes. I hoped for something different today, but expected the same to happen. Luckily, we had a neutral roll out from Mt. Crested Butte down and around town before the race started so everyone would get to ride with him for at least the first 5 miles.
The energy of the peloton was buzzing as everyone rode behind the pace car and Lance down Elk Avenue as locals and tourists snapped pics and cheered. A pace line quickly formed as we headed out of town and turned onto the dirt road to head up the Slate river valley. The group stayed together for the first 5 miles of dirt to the base of the first climb, locally called Slate D'uez. As soon as the road grade started to climb the group slowed dramatically and I found myself out in the front pedaling comfortably. For the first few pitches I was waiting for Lance to come flying by, but he didn't.
Instead he rode right on my wheel and stayed there even when another rider came by and opened up a small gap partway up the climb. I was feeling great, riding at a comfortable pace, and enjoying myself. I could hear Lance breathing hard and about three quarters of the way up the climb he was asking, "Does this climb ever end?". To which I replied jokingly, "I know the Alps has way harder climbs then this." His reply was in good spirit, "Yeah, but it's different when you haven't been training."
When we reached the top of the climb there was a guy who had a 30 second lead on us. I quickly closed the gap on the short decent into Paradise Basin and passed him on a fast section where he chose a bad line threw the rocks. As the road flattened out Lance rolled up and informed me that the guy had flatted due to his bad line choice. There were a couple more little climbs to get to the top of Scoffield Pass and Lance again was asking me, "Do we ever get to descend?" I was still feeling great and found this encouraging, but told him we were almost at the top.
We rolled over the top of Scofield together and started the screaming fast road decent down past Emerald Lake to the snow plug. The snow field across the road is huge this year, still a couple hundred yards long, and requires dismounting to get across. The photographers snapped away at the unique shoot as I scurried across with Lance on right on my heels. Then it was back on the bike for a couple more minutes of screaming fast road decent before it flattened out for some fast road riding. As Lance and I started taking turns pulling across the flats another rider who neither of us recognized, caught up to join us. We made quick work of the ride out of Gothic each taking pulls to get back to the ski area.
I jumped out in front when we hit the 5 miles of singletrack at CBMR to climb up and over to the base area. Hopefully, this will make you chuckle; About halfway up the climb I made the decision to stop for a minute and go pee, thinking I could easily catch Lance and Greg on the decent. Luckily my plan worked as I caught up partway down the decent to ride Lance's wheel into the base area on the first lap. Of course, the crowd was all cheers as we rolled through the base area. You are probably wondering, "How are Lance's descending skills on a mountain bike?". Surprisingly, they are pretty good, he is really fast on the dirt road decents, but a little slower on the singletrack.
Neither Lance or I felt like trying to hang with him so we chatted it up for a bit as we started the gradual climb. As the climbing got steeper Lance started to push it a little more, split timing with his watch as to how big the gap was. He also asked me, "How much time do you think you can make up on the final singletrack decent on him?" in a way that almost implied that he would help me get to the top to close the gap on mystery man. To which I replied, "I think easily a minute." As we hit "the wall" near the top of Washington Gulch I could feel my legs starting to cramp, but just kept pushing to stay on Lance's wheel. As we rounded the final corner and could see the top he said, "I think there is a god." To which I had to laugh that he was as relieved as me to reach the top.
When we hit the top of Scofield the mystery man had about a minute and a half on us. A quick decent down to the snow field, this time it seemed more challenging to stay up right crossing with my bike, not sure if it was my legs or that the snow had softened up. Then another screaming fast decent down to the flats and Lance started to push the pace on the false flats down to Gothic. My legs started to cramp so I eased up thinking there was no way I could keep that pace all the way to the finish. Lance looked back when had opened up a gap of a hundred yards and to my surprise he slowed down a little to wait for me.
When I caught up, he asked me how I was doing and I told him my legs were starting to cramp. He said his legs were starting to cramp too if he started to “give er” and said lets work together. So I put my head down and rode threw the pain, taking turns pulling all the way to the ski area. We turned off onto Prospect and could see the mystery man climbing up the road ahead, still about a minute and a half up. Lance was on it and began to pull away as we started to climb, obviously determined to close the gap.
As I forced my legs to keep spinning as the road got steeper the sound of my chain going around was similar to nails on a chalkboard. My bike was in dire need of chain-lube after 60 miles and multiple stream crossings. My legs felt just like my bike sounded, screaming at me, but I had to keep pushing forward. I was relieved to hit the singletrack and get off the road, but Lance had already opened up a decent gap.
The singletrack gave me something to focus on other than the growing pain and cramps in my legs. On the first steep section my legs began to seize but I just let out a few choice words and pounded my fist against my quad to unlock it and keep going. I was relieved to reach the top of the singletrack but my legs where so smoked that I had little left to push across the top of Painterboy to begin the decent. I rode the decent fast and smooth knowing I would at least make up a little time. Halfway down I caught a glimpse of the duo riding right together lower down on the mountain, but the gap was a little too big to close before the finish line.
Lance Armstrong took the race in a time of 4:32:21, edging out the mystery man by 3 seconds! Turns out the mystery man was Greg Krause from Littleton. I finished just over a minute back in third place.
Wow! What a day to remember, I got to race side by side with Lance for almost 60 miles!
Lance later tweeted-
"Helluva fun ride today in CB for the @ltrail100 qualifier. Beautiful course. Squeaked out a "W" somehow. Full body cramp at the end."
"Thanks to the Crested Butte Alpine Odyssey MTB race yesterday I now feel like I've been run over by a truck."
I guess we have something in common, I woke up this morning feeling like I was run over by a truck too!
Thanks for reading!
for some awesome pics-
http://trentbona.photoshelter.com/gallery/2011-Alpine-Odyssey/G0000IxvE6pa7a5A
Team Alpine Othropaedics had a great showing for the day. Jenny Smith from AO took 2nd place on the women’s side in a close race with the winner Rebecca Rusch. Jari Kirkland also from AO rounded out 3rd. We had a bunch of riders from the team in the top 20, including Dr. Griggs, Mr. Alpine Orthopaedics himself.
for full results- http://singletrack.competitor.com/2011/07/race-results/2011-crested-butte-alpine-odyssey-results_19070/2
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Pictures in place of words
There have been many races and adventures lately.Here is a look at some recent efforts, media and images!
FAT TIRE 40 MEDIA
FIRE CRACKER 50, BRECKENRIDGE, CO
 |
| Brian Smith 4th fire cracker 50 |
 |
Dave O : racing WELL! b4 mechanicals..... |
 |
| ladies podium: Monique Mata, Jenny Smith, Kelly Bonfiace, Jen Gersbach, |
Fire cracker 50 Media:
Mountain Flyer magazine: http://www.mountainflyermagazine.com/view.php/firecracker-50-2.htm
Cycling news: http://www.cyclingnews.com/races/us-pro-uet-2-firecracker-50-ne/marathon/photos/181104
FAT TIRE 40, CRESTED BUTTE, CO
 |
| Travis Scheefer 4th Fat tire 40. |
 |
| Jenny Smith, 2nd Fat tire 40: Kevin Dirk Photography. |
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Dixie 200
A few weeks ago, I wandered into Rock N Roll Sports with the goal of finally acquiring the last of my gear for the Colorado Trail Race: A lightweight down jacket, a lightweight sleeping bag, and a bivy. I combed through catalogues with Dave Moe until I had the perfect setup. Last weekend, I took it all out for a test run at a little race called the Dixie 200 in Central Utah. The race was 176 miles (shortened due to snow that wouldn't melt in time) and circumnavigated the stunning Bryce Canyon National Park on a mix of dirt roads, pavement, and single track.
Five intrepid souls lined up bright and early on Saturday morning at the Thunder Mountain Trail head not really sure what to expect. Armed with little more than a GPS, two days worth of food, and my newly acquired sleeping gear, I felt slightly less than ready to take on the world. My two goals were to finish, and to finish with a happy stomach.
The first miles flew by with 40 miles of trail and dirt road covered in just over 5 hours. Then came the 'optional' out-and-back to Powell Point, a 25 mile detour climbing up to 10,200 feet. Optional because the race organizer wasn't sure it would be clear of snow, but he did offer a 10 hour 'time bonus' to anyone who made the trek to see the view. In a race like this, the idea of a time bonus is a little bit silly because everyone is out there for the adventure more than the time or finishing place, but I liked the idea of up. After a very trivial, but not short, climb, I arrived at the point having seen first place returning from the point a mere 20 minutes ahead of me. Even with my rabbit in sight, I had to take several moments to take some pictures, chat with Dave Harris the race organizer who had pedaled up to the point to hand apples out, and soak in the beauty before screaming back down the climb.
It was only a matter of another hour of climbing on a dirt road and then a 20 mile descent with a little bit of everything (downed trees, primitive trail, treacherous water crossings, sand, and rocks) before I coasted into Tropic, the little tourist town serving Bryce Canyon and serving as our one resupply point. Lo and behold, I found Aaron Gully there who had been leading the race since we first hit singletrack 10 hours ago. Since I wasn't sure I'd make it to Tropic before stores closed, I had all my food on board so I quickly filled up my bottles, my camelback, stuffed some cashews in my mouth and was off a mere 15 seconds after Aaron left. The race was on.
Things were going swimmingly until nightfall. The trail was slow going, but that was to be expected. The second half of the route was going to be the crux and I felt prepared. Ride until 2 am, sleep for 4 hours, get up and keep moving. That was the plan.
Then I hit the first downed tree in the middle of the road. I hoisted my bike over the massive pile of logs and hoped that it would be the exception rather than the norm. I continued up Crawford Pass encountering log jam after log jam. I crawled over them, under them, around them, through them, covering a mile in just over an hour to get to the top of the pass where I saw car tire tracks, indicating that the road was clear on the other side of the pass. Unfortunately, my little GPS track pointed in another direction, up a trail and through the woods. The first log jam was about 15 feet up the trail.
At 2 am, I looked around. I was on a mountain side surrounded by dead trees littering the ground and the trail. While I still had water, I knew it would go fast if I stopped for the night and had a recovery drink and then food for breakfast. My plan shifted: Move until you get to the reliable water source. Sleep there.
20 miles later, it was 7 am. The sunrise had been beautiful, but even more beautiful was the sound of a stream next to the trail. I quickly downed the water I had been rationing, filled up my bottles and camelback, dropped in some iodine, and laid down to sleep for a few hours in broad daylight. 45 minutes later, 3 helicopters flew overhead waking me from my dreams. Awake, I figured I might as well keep moving.
The next 20 miles was more of the same except with big views. 20 miles in 8 hours. My legs were scratched, my arms were raw, my bike was not happy with being tree-bound for the majority of the time. Yet, I had no map of how to get out easily, so I figured that as long as I kept moving, I'd get to where I was going. I prayed that the long descent off of the plateau was a road and not a tree-clogged singletrack, and for the first time all day, my prayers came true. Dropping 2,000+ feet on a smooth, grated road was the best present I could have wished for.
From there, it was another 20 miles home. Some on single track, some on the Fremont ATV trail, which thankfully was smooth and well maintained. I arrived at the top of Thunder Mountain at 9 pm with only 6 miles of single track to ride. I'd ridden the trail earlier this spring so I knew what to expect, swoopy, fun, and dropping 1,200 feet down to the parking lot. The last mile was the hardest. High speed, straight, I sang to myself to keep alert and awake. Loudly.
I finished in 39 hours and 5 minutes, the only one to finish the entire course. I guess that means I won, but more than anything, it was the reaffirmation that as long as I keep moving, I'll get to where I'm going.
Five intrepid souls lined up bright and early on Saturday morning at the Thunder Mountain Trail head not really sure what to expect. Armed with little more than a GPS, two days worth of food, and my newly acquired sleeping gear, I felt slightly less than ready to take on the world. My two goals were to finish, and to finish with a happy stomach.
The first miles flew by with 40 miles of trail and dirt road covered in just over 5 hours. Then came the 'optional' out-and-back to Powell Point, a 25 mile detour climbing up to 10,200 feet. Optional because the race organizer wasn't sure it would be clear of snow, but he did offer a 10 hour 'time bonus' to anyone who made the trek to see the view. In a race like this, the idea of a time bonus is a little bit silly because everyone is out there for the adventure more than the time or finishing place, but I liked the idea of up. After a very trivial, but not short, climb, I arrived at the point having seen first place returning from the point a mere 20 minutes ahead of me. Even with my rabbit in sight, I had to take several moments to take some pictures, chat with Dave Harris the race organizer who had pedaled up to the point to hand apples out, and soak in the beauty before screaming back down the climb.
It was only a matter of another hour of climbing on a dirt road and then a 20 mile descent with a little bit of everything (downed trees, primitive trail, treacherous water crossings, sand, and rocks) before I coasted into Tropic, the little tourist town serving Bryce Canyon and serving as our one resupply point. Lo and behold, I found Aaron Gully there who had been leading the race since we first hit singletrack 10 hours ago. Since I wasn't sure I'd make it to Tropic before stores closed, I had all my food on board so I quickly filled up my bottles, my camelback, stuffed some cashews in my mouth and was off a mere 15 seconds after Aaron left. The race was on.
Things were going swimmingly until nightfall. The trail was slow going, but that was to be expected. The second half of the route was going to be the crux and I felt prepared. Ride until 2 am, sleep for 4 hours, get up and keep moving. That was the plan.
Then I hit the first downed tree in the middle of the road. I hoisted my bike over the massive pile of logs and hoped that it would be the exception rather than the norm. I continued up Crawford Pass encountering log jam after log jam. I crawled over them, under them, around them, through them, covering a mile in just over an hour to get to the top of the pass where I saw car tire tracks, indicating that the road was clear on the other side of the pass. Unfortunately, my little GPS track pointed in another direction, up a trail and through the woods. The first log jam was about 15 feet up the trail.
At 2 am, I looked around. I was on a mountain side surrounded by dead trees littering the ground and the trail. While I still had water, I knew it would go fast if I stopped for the night and had a recovery drink and then food for breakfast. My plan shifted: Move until you get to the reliable water source. Sleep there.
20 miles later, it was 7 am. The sunrise had been beautiful, but even more beautiful was the sound of a stream next to the trail. I quickly downed the water I had been rationing, filled up my bottles and camelback, dropped in some iodine, and laid down to sleep for a few hours in broad daylight. 45 minutes later, 3 helicopters flew overhead waking me from my dreams. Awake, I figured I might as well keep moving.
The next 20 miles was more of the same except with big views. 20 miles in 8 hours. My legs were scratched, my arms were raw, my bike was not happy with being tree-bound for the majority of the time. Yet, I had no map of how to get out easily, so I figured that as long as I kept moving, I'd get to where I was going. I prayed that the long descent off of the plateau was a road and not a tree-clogged singletrack, and for the first time all day, my prayers came true. Dropping 2,000+ feet on a smooth, grated road was the best present I could have wished for.
From there, it was another 20 miles home. Some on single track, some on the Fremont ATV trail, which thankfully was smooth and well maintained. I arrived at the top of Thunder Mountain at 9 pm with only 6 miles of single track to ride. I'd ridden the trail earlier this spring so I knew what to expect, swoopy, fun, and dropping 1,200 feet down to the parking lot. The last mile was the hardest. High speed, straight, I sang to myself to keep alert and awake. Loudly.
I finished in 39 hours and 5 minutes, the only one to finish the entire course. I guess that means I won, but more than anything, it was the reaffirmation that as long as I keep moving, I'll get to where I'm going.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Ethan
Like many people in the Gunnison/Crested Butte area we have become glued to the live spot tracking of the Tour divide race.
www.tourdivide.org
With three Gunnison/Crested Butte riders in the top four overall its addicting and very inspiring to watch their progress southward.
Last night we saw that team Alpine Ortho rider Ethan Passant was riding over the Continental divide via Marshall pass to Sargents, CO.
Bryan Wickenhauser loaded Brian Smith, Myself, and Jarral Ryter into his truck and took us on a late night tiki tour up to cheer on Ethan. We ran into him at 1800 miles into his race high on Marshall pass. Pretty cool close to 11pm at close to 11,000 ft we saw one lonely set of lights coming down the mountain toward us.
Self admittedly a little delirious and sporting a sore knee he was otherwise in good spirits and ready for some desert warmth. The night before had been spent in a prefab post office building in Como to hide from the snow. Bonus it was open double bonus it was heated.
Have to say the legend of Ethan is Growing!
Good luck for the next week we'll all be following.
www.tourdivide.org
With three Gunnison/Crested Butte riders in the top four overall its addicting and very inspiring to watch their progress southward.
Last night we saw that team Alpine Ortho rider Ethan Passant was riding over the Continental divide via Marshall pass to Sargents, CO.
Bryan Wickenhauser loaded Brian Smith, Myself, and Jarral Ryter into his truck and took us on a late night tiki tour up to cheer on Ethan. We ran into him at 1800 miles into his race high on Marshall pass. Pretty cool close to 11pm at close to 11,000 ft we saw one lonely set of lights coming down the mountain toward us.
 |
| its never too late, dark, cold, or early to geek out over someones bike and equipment choices. Brian and Jarral checking out Ethans rig. |
Self admittedly a little delirious and sporting a sore knee he was otherwise in good spirits and ready for some desert warmth. The night before had been spent in a prefab post office building in Como to hide from the snow. Bonus it was open double bonus it was heated.
Have to say the legend of Ethan is Growing!
Good luck for the next week we'll all be following.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
SSUSA
After the Growler last week, I decided to go for a change of pace with racing. I gave up 20 of my 21 gears and any form of suspension and headed to the Front Range to race Single Speed USA. It's 4th addition was run in my former hometown of Boulder, so I couldn't resist heading back to see what the race was all about.
All we knew headed into the race was to meet at a park in Boulder on Friday night for a cruiser ride and round one of the hosting competition, a series of contests to decide who got to host the event in 2012. Round one was a tube race down the kayak course in Boulder Creek. With run-off in full force, I can't imagine the water was warm.
All we knew headed into the race was to meet at a park in Boulder on Friday night for a cruiser ride and round one of the hosting competition, a series of contests to decide who got to host the event in 2012. Round one was a tube race down the kayak course in Boulder Creek. With run-off in full force, I can't imagine the water was warm.
The motley crew of single speeders than proceeded to various Boulder watering-holes to receive a map to the race start, ride mechanical bulls, and to pre-race carbo load with some of the fine micro-brews available in Boulder.
Saturday morning brought a race start at an altitude which favored the mountain dwellers. Shawn Lortie did a nice write-up of the actual race over at Mountain Flyer which I highly recommend checking out. To sum-up, everyone got at least a little lost. Even I, who learned how to ride on these trails, got turned around a time or two. It was a rollicking good time with a happy combination of dirt roads, trails, and post-holing through snow. Winning the race was just an added bonus.
The post-race party was also the venue for the infamous foot-down bike-derby competition and the last round of the hosting competition. I took a non-violent approach to the derby and was able to outlast all the boys who took great joy in running into each other with their bikes.
Vermont won the hosting competition. Guess I'll have to travel out there next summer to defend my belt and title.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Dana Allen Photos from Growler
Thanks Dana! - Some sweet shots.
Sick Job Smithy! You friggin CRUSHED that race! What a great showing for team AO and thanks so much for all the support out there! Lisa, Missy, Stew, Doc G, Travis and the whole Alpine Ortho Crew that was out there - you were stellar support. Thanks to Rob and the Acli-mate crew for their on course support both in the water bottle and at the base. Our sponsors RULE! And one of them slayed a 14th place - Yeah JB and Go To Guide! Paul Pike was also out there smilin' as always - nice work Paul!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)