Well, it's over and done with. I'm very happy with the results: 28 laps in 17 hours and 55 minutes. That equates to somewhere around 165 miles. By far the longest mountain bike "ride" I've done in a day.
The race started out dry and super dusty. You have to run from the start line up a small hill, around some trees and back to your bike. It took me about 20 seconds to find my bike once I got to the bike pile. I tried to start the run at a nice slow pace so I'd end up in the middle of the pack for the first lap or two. This meant following 40ish people and eating their dust. It was pretty crazy actually, with there being so much dust that it felt like riding through fog.
I pulled the first 2 laps in 61 minutes. Pretty fast considering the run and also that I was trying to go slowly. I came through and Chris told me to slow down. I tried, but still pulled another couple quickish laps.
During my 4th lap, my HID battery pack died. Aack. Finished the lap with just the helmet light, which is not quite powerful enough on its own. Switched battery packs at the pits. I also unstrapped the helmet light because my lame neck was getting sore. So, I ran on just a bar light, which was barely sufficient.
About 1 and a third laps later, that single bar light went out on me during a fairly quick descent. I shot off into the weeds/cactus in the dark. I didn't crash which was pretty lucky. I pulled the helmet light out of my jersey and mounted it up in the dark (no easy task). Checked around for cactus and was lucky enough to have gone off in a relatively clear spot of the trail. No puncture.
Finished the lap with just the helmet mount light and picked up a fresh battery at the pits. Took the helmet light off again as there is no way my neck could handle the extra weight. The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. Tirpak laid down for a nap and I just steadily churned out laps. Stopped every couple laps to get some endurolytes, drink, clean and lube my chain, etc.
The sun came up during my 10th lap. I was feeling pretty spaced out and starting to slow down. At some point, Chris brewed up a cup of coffee for me. This totally got me back into high gear and I cranked the speed back up. Felt great actually.
Coming through the start/finish for the 18th or so time, I saw Brian Blitzer there waiting for his teammate to come through. A little while later, I'm tooling along whistling a tune and I hear someone from behind say "Brad is that you?" Sure enough, Blitzer had caught up to me and we turned the next 2 laps together. These were two of the most enjoyable laps of the race. Having someone to just ride along and talk with made the laps go by very quickly. Brian seemed to be easily cruising along on his single speed.
At the start of the second lap with Brian, I crashed hard coming out of the start/finish turn. The front end washed out and I landed heavily on my right side, mostly my hip. I checked myself and the bike, restarted and saw that Brian was waiting at the top of the hill for me. Sweet!
Towards the end of the second lap w/ Blitzer, I made a comment about how I can't believe he's on the course and its not raining. 2 years ago, everytime Blitzer was on the course, it rained and the course went down the tubes. Well, shortly after I opened my big mouth, it started to drizzle. Uh oh.
Soon enough, I'm out on the course, in the middle somewhere, and the course becomes terrible. Really really bad. I guess the soil has a large amount of bentonite in it. This is not something you want to be riding in when wet. It gets incredibly sticky and makes the course basically undrideable. Lots and lots of people were standing on the side of the trail in disbelief or walking back to the start carrying their bikes. My interally geared hub shined in this junk. I managed to ride all but about 50 feet of that lap. I only saw one other person able to do that.
When I finally bogged down, I tried to pick up the bike and carry it. I couldn't even get the bike up over my head. It must have weighed 70 or 80 pounds. Seriously! I spent a bunch of time cleaning the mud off the tires/frame and then pushed the bike. I found out that pushing it with the front wheel up, like a wheelie, was way easier. I pushed 'til it looked a bit better then hopped on and finished riding the lap with my super heavy mud bike. That lap was worth about 3 or 4 normal laps in effort.
The rain had stopped by the time I finished the lap. Chris took my bike and hosed it off while I sat there and recuperated for 15 or so minutes. I went back out and the course was amazingly reasonable. A little wind and 60 cyclists going over the course dries out a little ribbon of trail very quickly.
At this point, a bunch of guys I ride/race with showed up on their way back from Moab. With my parents, these guys, and Chris, I had quite a cheering section. It was pretty motivational to have them cheering me on up the last big climb. I pulled several good laps in a row during this timeframe.
At the end of one of these laps, it really really started to rain. I think there was about 2 hours left when I got to the pit. I told Chris I'm waiting here til this calms down. He said something like, "you're not quitting, get back out there." Yeah, yeah, I'm not quitting, but I'm not going out in this terrible weather. After a little break, the rain subsides and Chris pushes me out of the pit.
I was thinking to myself, "This is going to be a disaster." Sure enough, about 1 mile into the lap, I come up on a section that is unrideable. I start pushing the bike past people going the wrong direction, who are quitting. One of the wrong way guys says, "I don't think people realize they are only one mile into a six mile course." I say, "I realize how far it is, I'm just very stubborn!"
Oh man, talk about suffering. Lots and lots of people start going cross-country to some random road they see. I stick it out. Pushing, stopping, cleaning, etc. Unbelievable. I try to carry my bike. I can't pick it up. Dump it over on its side. Put it on its handlebars, clean off the mud for 5 minutes. Carry for a bit, put it down, try to ride, make it about 15 feet. Bike won't move again. Wonder what to do. Think about leaving the bike and just walking back to the start/finish. Flip the bike over, clean for another 5 minutes, throw it on my back, hunched over, start the death march. Trudge, trudge, trudge.
Eventually, the trail looks barely rideable. I avoid the temptation to put the bike back down again, fearing I'll only make it another 15 feet before having to clean again. Trudge, trudge, trudge. Finally, with my back and neck screaming for mercy, I decide to give riding a shot again. Drop the bike in a puddle and start riding. I manage forward progress, but have to stick to a tiny ribbon of rideable trail or I'll get stopped. I'm stuck in 1st gear. Not due to any mechanical problem, but because my glove and shifter are so covered in mud that I can't turn the twist shifter.
At this point, I'm thinking I'll finish the lap, but stuck in first gear it may take another hour. So, I precariously ride along the thin ribbon, while trying to clean my glove/shifter. I don't dare to stop, for fear of getting off that tiny ribbon. I manage to get enough junk off my glove/shifter that I can get into second gear. I repeat the glove rubbing / balancing act about 10 more times and the bike is fully functional again.
The course turns a bit sandier/rockier and I start cruising along. I come up on a photographer who snaps a pic. At the next turn, I auger in hard again on my right hip. I get up and ask the guy, "Did you get that?" He says no but asks me to pose for a pic with my mud bike. I happily oblige, taking any chance I can to rest.
A little further down the trail, I run into a guy saying the course is rerouted, but I can finish and they'll count my lap. They eliminate the big hill in the middle of the course. I get to the last big hill thinking the course is shut down. I crank up with my super heavy bike and get to the line.
Chris says, "go back out." I say, "I think the course is closed." I'm standing at the start/finish and ask the officials. They say I can go back out, the course is rerouted. I ask if its rideable and they say, "I think so." hmm...that doesn't sound positive. I look at the clock and see 56 minutes left. I resolve myself to another lap from hell and leave the start line.
Amazingly, the course is completely rideable (assuming you can stick to the thin ribbon where people have previously passed). I take it easy, thinking I won't have enough time to go out for another lap. Towards the end, my foggy mind realizes that with a short course that has suddenly turned fast, I may "get" to do another lap.
I come through the line and the clock is at 27 minutes. I just turned a 29 going pretty easy. I put my head down and say, "I'm going back out." I put down the hammer. Bigtime. The whole way. I get to the last hill and there are tons of people cheering. I think I hear one of them say 1 minute left, so I just pour on the power, giving everything I have to get to the line in time. I get to the finish, look up at the clock and see 5 something minutes left. My mind does the math, 21 or 22 minutes for that last lap. I blurt out something like, "that was way faster than necessary!"
I'm totally psyched to be done, thinking I turned 29 laps, which actually turns out to be 28. Looking at the official lap times, 28 appears to be correct. 3rd place is 29 laps, so I was actually close to being on the podium, which was way beyond my expectations.
Besides chain derailment during the mud laps, I had no mechanicals. The internally geared hub shined, continuing to work while others carried their bikes or walked with broken derailleurs, hangers, or chains. The tubeless was flawless.
Thanks to Chris for the excellent crewing and to my little cheering section comprised of my parents, the Monument crew, and Blitzer's crew.
Pics to come at some point...
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