2016 Leadville Silver Rush 50

The only other time I raced the Leadville Silver Rush 50 (SR 50) was in 2011.  I vowed I would never race it again because it is so hard and does not suit my skills.  The SR 50 is like the Leadville Trail 100, except there are no flat sections.  In the SR 50, we started at the elevation of Leadville (10,150) and climbed above tree line three times on the way to the turn-around, and three times on the way back.  If you weren’t trudging foot over foot on the way up (because there were too many rocks and it was too steep), you were trying to bomb down a steep rocky descent.

In 2011, we drove from Newton to Frisco (west of Denver) on Friday, and I raced on Saturday.  This year my work schedule had me in Denver for a meeting on Wednesday and Thursday.  We stayed with friends and hiked in Rocky Mountain National park on Friday.  We drove to Leadville Friday afternoon and checked in to the race.  We met Matt and Sandy at High Mountain Pies for a pizza and to catch up.  Matt was driving out and was hauling my bike and a bit of gear.  The fact we would get a chance to hang out in Leadville with Matt and Sandy and they were willing to haul my bike were the main reasons I broke my vow to never race the SR 50 again.

I was expecting my new lighter bike to provide a benefit on the steep climbs.  I checked my time in 2011 from the application I use to download data from my Joule GPS cycling computer and saw 5:29 recorded for 2011.  My goal is to improve my time from year to year, even though I get a year older each year.

The low the night before the race was 47, but by race time it had warmed to above 60.  This is truly mountain weather.  Skies were bright blue, there was no chance for rain in the forecast.   The weather looked perfect.

The race starts with a 100 yard very steep climb.  It is so steep no one is able to ride it.  There is a prize for the first male and female to the top.  Everyone else tries to catch their breath in the tight dusty trail which starts just after the ascent.  On a short tight descent Jeff went flying by me with a polite hello.  I was very surprised I made it to the top of the foot hill ahead of Jeff. 

Matt, Brad and Jeff at the start line before climbing the first hill.

Within 20 – 30 minutes the first long climb starts.  This climb will take me 1.5 hours and top out over tree line.  The climb was hard, but I felt as good as I expected.  I still had not seen Matt, and was thinking I may be ahead of one other flatlander.  Once at the top there is a wide gravel road descent with patches of exposed rocks.  Matt (and what seemed like everyone else) flew by me on the descent.

On the third climb above tree line I started meeting the leaders on their way back.  Once over the top, the descent is very steep, rutted and rocky.  I was trying hard to ride because I knew riding was several times faster than walking.  There were a couple times I nearly crashed as I was descending, but was able to pull it together.

As the descent started to flatten out I knew we were nearing the turn-around where I would see Jenni and get two full bottles.  There was something a bit different about the route at the turn-around, but soon I was able to stop and grab fresh bottles because I had drained both in the three hours it had taken me to get to the turn-around.  In my foggy mind I was able to complete the simple math to subtract 3 hours from 5 and one half hours to get to two and one half hours remaining.  I felt a sense of ease because I was past halfway from a time standpoint.   How bad could the remaining race time be?

As I was climbing a slight grade I encountered a car on the mountain road.  The car was actually on the course and was pulled over to yield to oncoming riders.  Because the car was taking up over half the course I could not pass.  Luckily, it started moving quickly and pulled off so I could safely pass. 

I knew the climb back up the first big mountain pass was steep from my recent descent.  I was very tired and likely dehydrated.  I rode as far as I could, but was forced to walk to the top.  It was a long distance and quite steep.  It felt like it took over an hour.  I even stopped a couple times to rest my body and get my breath.  I noticed a couple times my PowerTap Joule cycling computer had gone to sleep because I was moving so slow.  It is hard to believe pushing a 21 pound bike while walking uphill can be so tiring for your entire body.  Maybe being at 11,000+ feet of elevation has something to do with it.  At least the view was spectacular!

One of the spectacular views on the way back down to Leadville.

Each climb on the way back was difficult.  I finally came to the last long climb up a wide gravel road.  I knew it was long, but I thought it would not be so steep.  I started grinding up this climb and tried to get into a good rhythm.  There was no shade in sight and I was going through my fluids.  With each twist in the road I would discover I was not at the top.  Finally, I made the last corner and could see the top.  It had flattened out some, but since I was above tree line, there was no going fast.  I made the turn to start down the long descent without walking any of the gravel road.  Now to bomb down the several mile descent without crashing or flatting.

I made it down the descent to a flat section near the finish.  Several racers passed me on the way down.  I was able to keep one in sight once we were on the flat.  As we approached the finish I realized the finish route had changed.  I was able to follow the course and made it to the finish line.  I crossed the finish line at 6:32 and Ken Chlouber put a finisher’s medal around my neck and handed me a silver glass.  I was both elated and disappointed.  I was happy the pain would stop, but disappointed with my time (63 minutes longer than 2011).

When I looked at my Joule computer I saw a much different time.  I recalled it had gone to sleep because I was moving so slowly it thought I was stopped.  I quickly understood the time on my Joule would not match my race time.  It did not dawn on me; the time I had looked at from 2011 was the time from my computer, not my actual race time.  When I compared the actual race times I learned I finished in 6:09 in 2011, so I was only 23 minutes slower in 2016.  While this still was not where I wanted to be, it felt much better than being over an hour slower.  Life is about perspective; being 23 minutes slower sounds good compared to 63 minutes slower.

For the record, I am never doing the SR 50 mountain bike race again.  This time I mean it and you are all my witness!

2016 Lutsen 99er

The forecast on Tuesday called for a chance of rain the Saturday of the race.  I told myself things will likely change by Saturday.  There were a few dips in the chance of rain, but on the morning of the race, the chances were good for rain by 10:00 AM. 

The race started at 7:30 on dry roads.  I was hopeful we could escape the rain.  The soil in northern Minnesota is sandy and drains well.  However, there are always large puddles, even in “dry” years.

I was concerned I was not in top shape because my important large effort two Saturdays before the race was shortened by rain.  Without significant testing there is no way to know for sure, so in the last week I was trying to tell myself to ride my race and not worry about my fitness.

The race starts with a neutral descent of about 5 minutes, turns onto a flat road (highway 61) for 5 minutes, then turns back north and climbs for 20 minutes.  I held myself back a bit on the climb so I would not burn too much energy in the first 30 minutes of the race.  In the three prior years I have finished the race in just under 7 hours and was holding to the same goal this year.

I was able to ride at a reasonable pace on the initial climb.  The rest of course to the first aid station contains several miles of rough doubletrack.  I made it to the first aid station a couple minutes behind my goal pace.  I was not where I wanted to be time wise, but I was holding a reasonable pace and was telling myself I was better off to conserve early so I had energy towards the end.  There had been some thunder prior to arriving at the first aid station, but no rain.

Near the start on dry roads.

 

The first aid station marks the beginning of a 17.8 mile figure eight in the course, which is ridden twice.  The figure eight contains approximately 7 miles of rough mowed trail and 10 miles of gravel road.  I meet Jenni (my superb crew) who is stationed just as the rough mowed trail ends.  In the rough mowed trail someone passed me and said my name.  I was not sure who it was, but I suspected it was Steve Cannon.  I stopped to grab a new bottle and something to eat.  It was sprinkling lightly, which was of no concern, I was actually happy to have a bit of moisture to settle the dust.

After I left Jenni, the rain picked up significantly.  There was lightning striking the trees all around me.  It started raining so hard I was actually getting cleaner.  On the first couple miles of gravel road after I left Jenni I was unable to hold onto the back of a draft line.  I remembered from years past, there was a large descent with a turn at the bottom.  As I was descending I noticed I was catching the group I was unable to hang onto earlier.  I glanced to the right and saw a racer standing up in the ditch.  Apparently he was caught off-guard by the descent with a corner at the bottom.  I was able to rejoin the group and work with them all the way back to the first aid station.

By the time I reached the rough doubletrack the rain had slowed.  The double track was still rough, and now greasy and soft.  Not long after hitting the rough doubletrack Steve Cannon passed me again.  I was able to hold onto his wheel and he was a good pacer, plus it helped to see his line through the rough rocks.  Between breaths we were chatting which helped pass the miles.  We commented how we were working harder to go slower.  I stopped to load up on supplies when I met Jenni, to head out for the remaining 37 miles of the race.  I said good-by to Steve as he rode on.

Within a mile after passing the 3^rd aid station I spotted Steve up the road.  I caught him and we rode together without saying much to each other.  Steve and I slowly began to get further and further apart.  He was riding stronger, and / or I was fading.  I had to stop for a “nature break” and Steve was able to keep going.  Within approximately 7 miles after the 3^rd aid station I noticed the roads were getting dryer. 

By the 4^th aid station the roads were dry and dusty again.  I was hanging onto the back of a strong group and working hard to stay with them.  The miles consisted of mostly gravel roads with a few miles of doubletrack.  At one point we were descending at close to 20 mph on a good doubletrack, or maybe it was a sketchy gravel road, I heard the vibration of disk brakes a couple times.  Next I observed a rider pull off to the left and do a somersault in the ditch.  He popped up, so I knew he was OK.  I never learned the cause of this issue.

I left the last aid station all alone.  At this point in the race I like to ride with a group to help pace me to the finish.  After several hours it is very easy to lose focus and find yourself pedaling easy as if on a joy-ride.  I was able to catch a couple people, but was also passed by a couple.  I was not riding very strongly, but I was not creeping along either.  I was pushing myself hard as we entered the singletrack which makes up the last few miles of the course.  There is no need to save anything at this point.  The course descends a small hill, crosses a bridge and goes up a short hill with a boardwalk.  As I was working to get myself lined up for the small uphill I realized there was a cyclist stopped about 1/3 of the way up.  I was able to fly past on the left without incident.

Passing the stopped rider near the start of the singletrack.

I saw another racer (possibly in one of the shorter races) in front of me crash in the tight singletrack.  I continued pushing as hard as my tired legs would go.  In the back of my mind I knew there was a long and steep climb to the finish, but I was trying not to hold back too much.  I completed the short descent to the river, rode along the river, and then started up the finishing climb.  I was able to pass a couple racers who were completely out of gas.  There are so many emotions at this point in the race; spectators cheering loudly, you know you are nearly finished and your legs are screaming in pain.

At the finish with my legs screaming in pain.

I finished in 7:20, several minutes slower than my goal.  I was disappointed, but as I have had time to think about my race and preparation, I now know why I was slower.  The items impacting my race were: I was getting a chest cold, the thunderstorm made the roads and trail softer and I was forced to shorten an important long training ride two weeks prior to the race.  Unfortunately, I will never know the level of impact each of the above items had on my time.  I had very little control over these items, so I just need to move on with the rest of my season.