Stress Rollercoaster

The past few days have been quite the stress test. Months ago, I planned a trip with wife and my mother, where everybody could enjoy the trip. Not easy, when off-road trail riding is foremost on my list. There's needs to be plenty of other things for the women to go off and explore while I ride. Cycling might be on their list, but not my kind of cycling!

Mom was to fly in to Salt Lake City from Michigan, while Cathy and I were flying in from Manchester, NH. The morning of our flight, I get an email from Southwest saying my itinerary changed, and my flight was now departing an hour-forty later? What?! We'll miss our connection. I called. No sympathy. They said we could fly to Baltimore, then to Los Angeles, then back to SLC and get there just before midnight. The only problem was my mom arrived at SLC in the morning and was depending on me for transportation and lodging. The other option was to fly out the next day. They acted like this was no big deal, so why should I be so upset. I was livid.

We decided to chance it, worst case not getting to SLC until midnight, which would have left my mom at SLC for 12+ hours until we got there. We'd get to hotel 3am NH time. We would have about 20 minutes to catch our next flight.

Things got worse. Our flight was delayed another 20 minutes after sitting two hours at the airport. Now we were getting into Baltimore after our connection left the gate. We left mom a message, as she was already in the air. I was fit to be tied. They claimed there was an equipment failure at Baltimore the day before and this pushed everything back, except of course, our connecting flight to SLC.

About 20 minutes from landing in Baltimore I asked for connecting gate info. A flight attendant checked, and to the surprise of 11 of us making the same connection, the SLC flight was delayed 15 minutes. He announced if we didn't dilly dally, didn't grab a bite to eat, didn't stop at the bathroom, we should just make it. Cathy and I sat in the front row. We sprinted and ran right onto the plane. Worry now transitioned to how will they ever get our luggage transferred in time...

The Baltimore to SLC flight was interesting. Of course, only the most undesirable middle seats were left. Lots of babies on board. Hmmm, what is greatest mean distance from all the babies? About 1.5 seats it seemed. We got no lunch in Baltimore. We should have had a 2hr layover, instead 60 second sprint. A flight attendant that could have been an army drill sergeant in a past life kept repeating the rules about nobody queuing up at the front lavatory. Then when snacks were handed out, she said "Chips, Cookies or crackers?" I grabbed all three, since Southwest usually lets you take as many as you want. She quickly snapped back "That was an OR!", grabbing two of the snacks back from me. Whoa! The passengers on either side of me got a kick out of that one. Glad I had a couple other bites of food along from home.

At SLC, mom never got our messages, so she had no idea how close things came. She was glad to not know. We were relieved to see our bags even made it on our flight. Things were looking up, except for the pesky detail of weather forecasts, which were downright abysmal.

We scooped up my bike en route to Park City, Utah. Park City is currently the only Gold Level riding destination in the world ranked by IMBA. Many things go into this ranking, such as quantity, quality and variety of trails, infrastructure such as lodging, food and brew, access. There are hundreds of miles of purpose built singletrack around Park City, from extreme lift-served downhill to cross-country alpine epics. Guess what I was interested in?

Leave it to Cathy to get us up in time. Some how she double counted the 2hr time difference and got us up at 3:45am local time! False alarm. Cathy had also put in for a wake-up call at 5:45am, which was later than we usually get up eastern time. Breakfast was served at the Hampton Inn at 6am. The woman wanted to see a bunch of stuff in SLC and didn't want to drive into the city, so I would drop them off. If you've been following the news lately, you know the weather has been wicked unstable in this part of the country for the last 10 days. I needed to get as early of a start as possible to avoid being turned into a crispy critter on a ridgeline. There was 50% chance of thunderstorms.  Our wake-up call never came. We overslept by 45 minutes. SOB! Can't one thing go right?

It was about 1hr round trip to drop women off and start my ride from I-80. There was a trailhead practically from the hotel that would tie in with the Wasatch Crest Trail, a trail I've wanted to ride for 10+ years. Late summer is one of the best times to ride the crest, as the snow is long gone, and September precip is very low. But not this September. Almost daily rain. The Mountain Trails folks maintain an awesome interactive map with status on hundreds of trails. 100% of the singletrack was posted "Excessive Snow/Mud, Trail Use Not Recommended." Just lovely. They weren't officially closed. Maybe if I got on them before the afternoon rain came things wouldn't be too bad. I thought wild fires would be my biggest threat on this trip, but no, it was going to be rain.

Orange = Use not Recommended, all singletrack. I believe violet is paved path.

Heading out, I almost immediately began climbing into the cloud deck. Mostly forested, and I had no idea if there were views from the open areas or not. I took quite a maze of trails up to the crest, pretty much monotonically climbing at a persistent, steep grade. I started around 6400ft and was going up to nearly 10,000ft. Nothing like a stiff 3500ft climb for breakfast.  I hit tails like RTS, UOP, Robs and Ridge Connector.

It took nearly 2hrs of continuous climbing to reach the ridge. I had an hour in there where I didn't encounter another soul. Just before reaching Desolation Lake, I met another rider coming down and asked if he still thought it was ok to traverse the ridge. He said sure, rain would start after 1pm. I went for it. Near the high point, I met many other riders going the opposite way. I think they were all shuttling, parking at Guardsman Pass, then bombing back down on Mill Creek Trail on SLC side of the crest. Mill Creek is open to riding only on even days, and Saturday was the 14th. I got funny looks when I told them where I had started from.

There were a few brief moments where the clouds opened just enough to see some of the nearby mountains. That was sweet. The ridgeline was dry for the most part, while some of the loamy, shady areas of the climb were tacky and a tad greasy in a couple spots.

I managed the clear the ridge staying dry. Plan next was to bomb down to pick up the beginning of Mid Mountain Trail, another premier XC trail at Park City. It contours at 8000ft for something like 15 miles. I was really looking forward to a fast, flowy cruise with a 2000ft plummet at the end back to the hotel. The problem was, the sky turned dark, the rain started, and the temperature plummeted. Thunder too. So glad I wasn't on the ridge. No doubt some of those I saw just heading up got caught up there in that. My problem was I was the furthest point out from my car. Shall I just bomb down one of the ski area service roads and head back on pavement? I wasn't sure I even knew how to do that. I thought maybe the rain would just be brief, as I saw blue sky very close by in direction I was heading. I decided to cut several miles out of loop and short-cut to Mid Mountain trail just below me.

Of course, chasing the patch of blue sky was like chasing that pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. I never rode out from under the rain. The trail held water nicely. I had a continuous stream flying into my face and up my back side. The soil has a lot of structure to it, so it never got soft and muddy. It just made a wicked mess of bike and body. A Goretex shell was enough to keep me from going hypothermic, as the contouring trail had a surprising amount of up and down to it. Interestingly, I passed a terrain park area where the lifts were still running. There were a huge number of downhill oriented bikes strewn about at this mid-slope lodge.

About the time I neared the plummet at the end of Mid Mountain from 8400ft to 6400ft, the rain stopped. I spent almost two hours riding in rain, trashing bike. Things I would have to use again the next day were caked with crud, like Camelbak, shoes, shell and more. I had no chance to clean them, as we had long drive to Jackson, WY that afternoon.

Had the descent not been so greasy, I could easily see a 3500ft drop here being one of the best descents out there for cross-country weenies like myself. I had to be uber cautious though, riding balding Kenda Small Block 8's over lots of shiny rocks. There were several talus fields to cross.

Fortunately, the storm water basin right next to the hotel had ample rain water in it do dunk wash my bike. Hate doing that, for fear of water infiltrating bearings. But the bike had 10 pounds or crud caked on it and no way was I wedging that in between our luggage. We had already checked out of the hotel, so I had to use the lobby rest room to change. Ears, eyes, nostrils, even my butt crack were all packed with mud. This was just as bad as the VT50 a few years back. The band new drivetrain on my Racer-X 26" dualie just lost half its life. I finished with almost 45 miles, 8500ft of climbing on the Garmin in 5.5hrs moving time. This ride took way more out of me than I anticipated. Still got what I wanted out of it, just barely.

I'll leave you with photos from the ride. These are from my crappy Panasonic TS4 all-weather camera. Didn't want to risk the good camera in expected foul weather.

Aspen climbing into the clouds

The gnarliest section of the crest above Desolation Lake. This was hike-a-bike in

direction I was riding it.

Crest trail just visible in open meadow on left side of image

High point just before beginning descent towards Guardsman Pass.

Two other groups hit this point at same time.

Looking south along crest. Sky becoming increasingly unstable.

Apex trail maybe? Just before downpour.

Mid Mountain Trail. Looking back south. Rain almost stopped.

Park City faintly visible below from 8000+ feet on Mid Mountain. I bet views

are great on clear day.

Almost back down to hotel in distance. Figures sky was starting to clear up again.

Propagating the art of boondoggling

Soliciting ideas for a long ride on Saturday, Isaac proposed a route that may not ever have been done before. It would link the FOMBA/Massabesic area trails with Pawtuckaway State Park and Bear Brook State park in a super loop with very little paved riding. I've always wanted to try this, and now Isaac, who grew up within this loop, said he had a route in mind. I could not resist.

Dave was also up for an adventure. Isaac hinted some parts might be of dubious rideability. That should have put up some red flags right there. I have a long history of drawing riders in on exploratory routes which are never repeated again. They often result in extensive hike-a-bike sessions, or even you-can't-get-there-from-here scenarios.

Massabesic Lake just before rolling out at 8am. Weather was ideal.

The ride started out harmless enough on the dirt Rockingham Rail Trail. Near Raymond, we had a choice. Turn north on an ATV powerlines trail, or suffer through several pavement miles to reach Pawtuckaway. The ATV route would cut several miles out of the loop.  Isaac posed the question at the decision point, and Dave didn't hesitate to try the ATV trail route. Glad I did not weigh in...

We no more than got off the cinder gravel rail trail than we started hike-a-biking up a rutted 20-30% grade hill. Surely that would be it for a while, but no. Right after that we encountered a long section under a foot-plus of water. Isaac tried to ride it, but muddy bottom with big rocks you couldn't see ultimately would've doomed a full attempt.

No more than starting on the powerline ATV track. Isaac hoofing it.

A minute later, this. Dave barefoot. It didn't take long to realize the feet were going

to get and stay wet for a long time.

It was still pretty cold out and Dave didn't want wet shoes for the rest of the ride, so he pulled his socks and shoes off. I would never have walked through there bare foot. No telling if there was broken glass in there and whatnot.  Turned out to be a silly move, removing shoes to keep them dry. The next hour was going to be more of the same...

Route following became difficult at times. Trail bifurcated with all paths being overgrown. Which way do you pick? Isaac kept commenting how nice it was in winter following the snowmobile trail. Like a paved super highway then, no water holes, rocks, or weeds obscuring perils. That didn't do us any good now, we were entering full-on boondoggle territory.

Dodging large boulders in tall grass on steep grade. I chickened out.

This was so steep it was barely hikeable.

There were a few redeeming moments on the powerlines, such as extended slickrock sections.

We reached another quagmire that Isaac tried to ride. At first it was 6" deep, then a foot, then his front wheel just disappeared as he almost went over the bars. This stagnant pool deep in a swampy area stunk! Isaac was up to his manly bits in this quagmire. I nearly lost bladder control laughing so hard. Problem was, Dave and I had to get through there too. At least we knew not to ride it.

Isaac up to his manly bits in some smelly-ass quagmire.

Eventually this eternal six mile section came to an end. An hour and 18 minutes went by on the clock just on this section. Clearly boondoggle material.

The loop through Pawtuckaway went well. A lot of peaky climbing, where Dave was drilling it much of the time. My legs weren't feeling so good anymore. I wasn't sure how I was going to survive riding 60+ miles with these slow-twitch freaks. There wasn't much singletrack to hit in this part of the park. We were saving that for Bear Brook.

On the way to Bear Brook, we hit mostly gravel roads, but also a lengthy section of Class 6 town road. Doesn't show on maps. The climb was essentially creek bottom ridding, with water cascading down since we got rain recently. Lovely. More hike-a-bike. Most of this cut-through was rideable though.

This popped us out on Currier Rd, which Isaac's folks live on. Isaac pre-stocked the house for mid-ride refueling. He knows Hill Junkie's dietary habits well. There were Sun Chips, sardines and Oreo Cookies! I was pretty depleted at that point, 30+ miles into the ride with a lot of climbing and some very intense efforts. In hopes of staving off muscle cramps, I went for the sardines and chips.

All your foods are belong to me! I consumed a tin of sardines and half the large bag of Sun Chips.

We were on pretty high ground here. A slight backtrack brought us to a fire road into Bear Brook. Screaming descent, which Isaac knows well. I was getting bucked all over on my 29er hardtail with 80mm travel fork. Dave was on a fully rigid 29er. Isaac was on his 29er dualie and was gone.

We decided to hit all of the newer singletrack in Bear Brook, including the Hemlock Trail reroute, Little and Big Bear, Cascade and Sentinel Pine. I wasn't too keen on riding around Beaver Pond to start, as that is one of the more technical trails in the park. Didn't need to fall on my recovering wrist, or fall at all for that matter. I cleaned everything except that nasty bit in the middle I haven't seen anybody clean. It has been buffed out some recently, and I think in this direction with healed wrist, I could clean it on my daulie.

Dave didn't fare as well on the water crossing by the campground. He decided to test the hardness of the rocks with his knee. He was able to get back on his bike after a few minutes. There were a lot of people at the beach, just out of sight from the water crashing. The crash was pretty loud. I heard a beach goer holler "Is the tree alright!" Kind of funny, but a douche thing to say. Would have been funnier if he said "Is the bike alright?" I'm sure that was Dave's first thought. I bet he dropped some serious nickel on that Rocky Mountain 999 carbon frame.

The high point of today's ride was going to be the hour of purpose-build singletrack in Bear Brook. Hemlock is one of my favorite trails in New England. The reroute I helped build this summer is nicely broken in. Probably more fun to hit that section from the other direction, as it was mostly a climb from our direction.

We also hit the Little Bear and Big Bear loop. I helped build these trails last summer and hadn't ridden them since right after completing them. I must say they are wicked fun. Big Bear is a one-way trail, primarily downhill. Think giant slalom turns the whole way. Isaac led and totally shredded it. I fell off his pace just a bit towards the end. Had two OH-SHITS. Didn't need to wreck with a trip coming up in just a few days.

We dropped down on the Bear Brook Trail, always a fun time. There were many walkers and other mountain bikers in the park today, probably the most I've seen. We picked up Cascade from the bottom and began climbing. This first piece was new to me, constructed last year I think. Cascade Brook Trail climbs stupid steep with precipitous drop to the right. Several years ago, riding in January, I clipped a tree along here and went head first into the brook. I was soaked head to toe. Isaac was with the group that day and could not stop laughing.

The new drainage work on Sentinel Pine really opened that trail up. Several other obstacles were removed while NEMBA had some equipment in there. We climbed it, but I bet Sentinel Pine is a premium downhill  blast now.

Dave wanted to head out of Bear Brook by going over Bear Hill. He wanted to see me suffer and hear me whine. I had been running on fumes for a while. Bear Hill starts as a bony singletrack climb, then goes to 20% grade up ancient carriage road to long-gone fire lookout that used to be up there.  I cleaned the whole works, but I was fried. It was downhill for the next several miles, but I knew Dave was just getting warmed up and was going to light it up on the way back to Massabesic.

My suspicions proved true. As soon was Dave turned onto Trail 15 south, the afterburners came on. I hung as long as I could, imploded, then Isaac came by. I told Isaac I'd see both of them later.  I was pretty sure I'd be riding the next 15-20 miles alone.  Dave did slow down on the Chester Turnpike, a jeep road, just long enough to get back on. But this was only to string me out again for the next few miles. There was quite a bit of standing water on Trail 15, which is unusual for late summer. The area must have gotten quite a deluge several days ago. The only reason I could maintain contact with Dave was he slowed some through the frequent wet spots and I plowed full speed through them. This turned me and my bike into a disgusting mess.

After Dave putting more screws to me around Tower Hill Pond and gloating about it, we noted the mileage was going to come short of 100km. So should we hit several of the FOMBA singletracks? Isaac suggested the loop around Massabesic Lake. That sounded like a faster way to get the miles in, but it also meant Dave beating the aerobic snot out of me some more. I reluctantly agreed.

We rolled back in to the cars with 5.6 hours moving time, 5400ft of climbing and 62.8 miles (101km) on the Garmin. I was completely wrecked. Mission accomplished, another boondoggle on the books. Seems Isaac has learned well from the Master Boondoggler. It was great ride, but we all agreed we don't have to do the powerline section in summer again.

Worst Luck

I'm heading out west with family next week for a little riding and sightseeing. The focal point of the trip was Sun Valley, Idaho. Sun Valley has been making ripples in the mountain biking world the last couple years with trail building and high-level races held there. Seeing imagery of high alpine ridge riding convinced me I needed to make a visit.

But wouldn't you know it, things have been pretty dry out there with decades of accumulated fuel waiting to burn.  The massive Beaver Creek fire burned most of August and torched 111,000 acres, including most of the Sun Valley mountain biking trails. The screen shot below shows which trails are currently closed in red, which essentially defines the burn area.

The trail I most wanted to ride is the Osberg Ridge Trail, which kind of runs west to east in the upper third of the trail system. Closed. Only trails close in to town, the ski area and the highway have re-opened, as these trails are located in an area that burned in 2007. No fuel to burn there, so the edge of that burn created a natural buffer for the Beaver Creek fire.

This fire no doubt impacted the town pretty severely, loosing nearly a month of prime tourism. The hotel I booked said don't even bother coming for a couple weeks. Much of the area was evacuated. The fire is out now, the air is clearing up. However, there is the pesky detail of another rapidly growing fire just west of this one. The closure area for the new Kelly fire overlaps the western portion of closed red trails above.

Needless to say, most of the red trails above will not reopen before my trip. They are posted with $5000 fine and 6 months in jail. No messing around. The soil is unstable, burned trees can fall without warning, and erosion concerns all have to be addressed before many of these trails can reopen. That would be next year at the earliest.

There is one respectable loop on the east side of 75 I can ride, the loop out to Pioneer Cabin, which sits almost 4000ft above town in the Pioneer Mountains. There will be some good scenery on this loop. I was hoping to get three rides like it in and sample some of the famous, buff 10 mile descents where you barely have to pedal. Maybe another trip.

I've booked lodging in southwest Utah for this portion of the trip also. I can cancel one or the other early in the trip, as Idaho or Utah will be the last half of the trip.  It means a lot of extra driving if we cancel Sun Valley and head to Zion and Bryce Canyon national parks instead. No fires down there last check. I still hope to visit Sun Valley, and if a few more trails openings can open bigger loop options on the east side of 75, we'll go there.  Plenty of other activities for wife and mom to do either way.  At least we'll get to see Yellowstone in the first few days, and there are some good rides in the Jackson, Wyoming area.

29er Bullet Train

With my wrist still on the mend, Dave, Curt and Soups were able to join me for a Keene dirt rail trail loop. I've done this loop at least eight times now, usually on a cross bike. Course conditions can vary depending on time of year. Spring can be wet, late summer loose and sandy. To pamper my wrist, I wanted to ride my hardtail. Suspension to cushion unexpected rocks, wide tires for stability in sand. Plus on the way back into Keene, I wanted to hit the new singletrack at Stonewall Farm, where the Bike for Bovines Root 66 race is held.

The air was already soupy when the four of us headed out early Sunday. There were intermittent wet spots from overnight thunderstorms, and the grassy areas were all wet. This was going to be a messy ride.

Heading out on the Ashuelot Rail Trail. First five miles have been "improved" to

almost gravel road quality. Later on it gets narrow and even overgrown in spots.

Dave and Mark ensured a rigorous pace. I did a pretty hard 2.5hr ride on Friday and was feeling that. You may think how hard can flat rail trail ride be? It is as hard as you make it. You can all-out drill this loop if you want, with no natural breaks for recovery, save for brief road crossings. We had an honest paceline going at about 22mph on a variable conditions surface.  Given the high dew point, I worried about cramping, which I've done multiple times on this loop.

We reached the midpoint of the ride in my fastest time by far, stopping at a convenience store to top off water. Then it was into the climbing section, mostly on skinny dirt roads. Dave was killing each rise, leaving casualties in his wake. I was hanging on by a thread and was glad we had to regroup a couple times. Like to know what "program" he's been on...

When the route swung close to Rt 9, Curt said he'd see us back at the cars. There was a bunch more climbing and Rt 9 was an easy(ish) way back to Keene. Now I feared getting tag-teamed by Dave and Soups. Not sure where the Watts were coming from, but I stuck with it. I couldn't let Dave be the last man standing. I was wearing my BUMPS leader's jersey after all.

We finally reached the Cima Coppi of the ride. It was "all downhill" from here. Yeah, right. As we picked up the third rail trail, the Cheshire, we ducked into Stonewall Farm for the singletrack segment of the ride. Apparently the direction I picked to ride the loop was opposite the Root 66 race. No matter. It still rode well. Almost all narrow singletrack, it climbed and descended repeatedly. Somewhere along the way, Dave turned up missing. Perhaps those earlier hard efforts caught up to him. Soups and I doubled back. No Dave. He was back up to his old ways again. We started hollering out, like for a lost dog that has run off. He was somewhere way below us.  He seemed marginally coherent, saying something about needing food. I think there was about five miles of trail in there. Good stuff, but I'm not sure I'd want to race it. Passing would be very challenging for long periods of time.

Dave just after going AWOL at Stonewall. Lots of narrow bench cut here.

We popped back out on the rail trail and finished a gradual descent into Keene, trying to cool down a tad.  I logged 55.1mi in 3.6hrs moving time. We would have finished the base 50 mile loop in under 3hrs, had we not done the singletrack.  This would have been way faster than my previous best, which I think was 3:18hrs.  Curt had cold chocolate milk waiting for us when we got back to the cars. That never tasted so good!

It would have been great to race Burke this weekend, to claim and defend the leader's jersey.  But the hillclimb was cancelled due to low registration numbers. It was a tough weekend to hold a hillclimb race in upstate Vermont with the Green Mountain Stage Race and the Dirty 40 road race going on nearby. Holiday weekend too. I can't make the next two hillclimb races due to other commitments.  I asked if a jersey could be sent to me since Burke would likely have been the only race I could do while at the top of the leaderboard. Somebody else will surely move up in the next two races. Mary Power mailed a jersey out. I wore it today. Not quite the same as racing it in the series, but still thankful and appreciative to hit the top of the leaderboard again since winning BUMPS in 2009.

Left wrist still looks pretty fat.

If you encounter the Hill Junkie on a ride, flee!

Lost track of how many D2R2 rides I've done now. Maybe five? This year I was bit bit maimed and had to settle for a shorter distance on my mountain bike. My left wrist wasn't quite ready for eight hours of pounding on the full 180km loop. So I rode the 115k loop instead, which shares very little of the big loop. It would be good to ride some new terrain, I thought.

A shorter ride also meant a later start, which also meant I could sleep in my own bed and drive over the morning of. I knew a few people doing the 115k loop. But they either had a later planned start than I or waited forever for the last members of their posse to show up. So I headed out alone (sorry Ray!). Probably just as well. Since I was doing a shorter ride, I hoped to score some Vermont 50 training value out of the ride by with minimal stopping and hitting the climbs kind of hard.  Shit always happens in group rides. Flats seem to go up by more than N, where N=number of riders. Not sure how that can be, although I read nobody in Ray's group flatted. When you ride solo, you stop only when you flat, not every time somebody in your posse flats.

I was constantly catching and passing groups of a few to over a dozen riders. Occasionally, I'd know somebody in the group, I'd chill for a few minutes and chat for a bit. Then we'd go up, the group would slow down, I'd press on. I caught up with Clara Kelly before the first water stop. Clara joined our 6-gaps ride one year and kicked nearly everyone's butt.

The first major climb was interesting. It was a jeep track that crossed over into Vermont. Not sure the first section even has a road name, as it doesn't show on the maps. I was so glad to have fat tires for this. It was full on mountain biking. The climb then continued as an uber steep doubletrack called Abijah Prince Rd. There were two large groups ascending when I road through, and I didn't see anybody clean it. They all head cross bikes.  Again, the MTB just scooted right on up. I didn't even work very hard and still claimed the Strava KOM on that one.

Precursor to Abijah Prince Rd

There was some very narrow, curvy road on the descent. The road was crowned, gravel and loose on the edges. I'm bombing down with a couple others just behind me when a septic service or heating oil truck came hauling ass up. He never moved over or let off the throttle. Me and the guy behind me nearly bit it. Some drivers are f'd in the head to be so cavalier with other's peoples lives. There was no excuse for this driver's behavior, especially after he saw me and I motioned for him to slow down. I think he even made sure I had little to no room.

Barney Hill Rd. Typical D2R2 riding.

I think this is Ames Hill Rd. Some buff gravel here.

Descending the second climb, I caught up with Steve Aiken, who I've mountain bike with before, and a couple others. We bombed down to the lunch stop, getting there pretty early. They were just finishing setting things up. I've learned to not stuff myself here, as you do nothing but go up when you leave.

Steve, myself and two others headed out together after eating. On a small dip on the climb, I hear the sicking sounds of bicycles crashing behind me. I turn around to see Steve crumpled up on the deck. We weren't going too fast, but fast enough make some nasty road rash. Steve was bleeding from and elbow and knee, the handlebars had turned on the bike, and the front tire blew up. I guess Steve went no-hands momentarily to do something when he and another rider bumped. Doesn't take much when you don't have your hands on the bar. It took a bit to get him going again. The injuries were minor. We pressed on.

The lunch climb was pretty serious, and I got serious with it. I was by myself again, and would be for a long time, since nearly all of the 115k riders were now behind me. The Jacksonville climb gains 1000ft over several miles and you could get into a good groove on this one.

Next up was the famed Pennel Hill Rd climb. I heard horror stories. Most of them were true. The climb was much steeper than Patten Hill at the end of the ride and was soft, loose gravel. My wide tires gave me a huge advantage here. I forced myself to climb it in my middle ring to ensure maximum suffering. There were only four sets of tire tracks ahead of me, and two of those had footprints along side.

Ed Clark Rd, descent after Pennel Hill climb.

There was a nice view at the top just before beginning the descent on Ed Clark Rd. This descent is also widely talked about as being a zero gravity inducing speed fest. The road is very narrow, new asphalt, with blind driveways along the way. The speed limit drops to 15mph, yet you can easily go over 50mph if you don't value your life. Two weeks ago I realized how easily shit happens on descents like these, so my self preservation instincts took over and I rode the brakes. Still was fun though, and I did feel my stomach float over one of the grade reversals. The gyroscopic effect of those 29 inch hoops was pretty extreme. Took some man-handling to turn the bike at 40+ mph.

Patten Hill came quickly, and I was kind of bummed how good I still felt. Normally, on the 180k route, I'm a wrecked mess by the time I get to Patten Hill, which is the only climb shared between the 115k and 180k routes. I caught up with Matt Lovett on the way to Patten and chatted for a bit. He and his riding buddy bolted on ahead as soon as the grade kicked up. I thought I was doing ok, but these guys were going to dust me.  Matt used to put out mad Watts, so no surprise there. Eventually Matt's friend (Jason?) petered out and a few minutes later I passed Matt.

I was first to the Patten Hill feed station from the 115k ride group as best I could tell. There were no other riders there. I waited all day to bite into that watermelon they always have there. I topped off my water and pressed on, knowing most of the work was done.

I stopped to take a few more pictures on the way back in. The day was perfect in every way for a ride like this. Bluebird skies, low humidity with temperature in the 70's. I brought my better camera along to capture some of the scenery. Riding with a group, you just can't stop whenever, lest you want to chase like mad to get back on.

View from Cooper Lane, descending from Patten Hill.

I rolled in with just under five hours moving time, with 7500ft and 73.5 miles on the Garmin. This just nicely meets my 100ft/mile metric for Hill Junkie seal of approval. I hung around a good while for some of my usual riding posse to get in from the 180k loop. Funny how time flies when you start trading stories. You also lose track of how much you eat.

After telling about Steve's mishap, the consensus was strengthened that bad shit happens when people ride with me. Crashes happen, bad weather happens, even forest fires happen in place I plan to visit soon. I never cause these things, but DaveP says they just have a way of following me.  It is probably wise to flee if you encounter me on a group ride.

I have to say that was one of my more enjoyable D2R2 rides, despite riding 90% of it solo. I got an awesome workout and rode mostly new terrain. Sandy is a genius in creating all these routes to go simultaneously without ever causing plugged roads and getting everybody back at about the same time. The event continues to grow in popularity, with somewhere around 1200 riders this year. That is a lot of gravel grinding. I surely will come back for more, maybe with a rigid MTB next year to do the full loop with the cool kids.

Unexpected

The BUMPS series awards points for how well you finish relative to the fastest finisher and the average of all finishers. The overall winner gets 100 points. By definition, the average of all competitors is set at 50 points. Where one's time falls on a straight line drawn through these points determines how many points one is awarded for each hillclimb event. The two Mt Washington events, one in July and one in August, award a 1.2x premium on points, since this climb is so much more difficult than the others (and pricier!). Because of the points premium, only a best score of the two Washington events can be counted toward BUMPS points.

Seven of eleven races have been completed now. A racer's best five events are used in BUMPS scoring. I just completed my fifth race, so this popped me way up on the leader board, to the top in fact. I thought that might happen after the Mt Washington event, but earlier in the season I had no expectations of being near the top of the leaderboard.  I'll take it though!

I suspect this will be very short lived, probably only one race. There are at least three guys (Eric, Gerry and Erik above) that have only four races scored so far and are faster than me. If any of them do one of the remaining four races, that will knock me off the top of the leaderboard. There are a few others that have done only three races and are much faster than me. If any of them do two of the remaining four races, that too will push everybody down a notch. Thus there are many opportunities for somebody else to claim the top title before the end of the season.

I may have the leader's jersey for only one race, so I just signed up for Burke Mountain to claim it. I suspect the yellow leader's jersey will change hands a couple more times before the last race in October. I'll miss the next two races after Burke, as I will be on vacation for Greylock and at the VT50 for Kearsarge. Hopefully I can replace my abysmal score for Ascutney at Burke.

From Sunday's Union Leader. They failed to mention I'm a research engineer.

Mt injured wrist is getting better very slowly. Still very painful doing everyday things, and most things I can't even do yet. I ride, but probably shouldn't. The rough roads left my wrist very achy for a while afterwards today, no doubt delaying the healing process. I plan to ride a shorter version of the D2R2 course on Saturday, the 115km route, with a hardtail mountain bike. The 2.2" tires with front suspension will help pamper my wrist. At 73 miles, 8000+ feet of climbing and 25lb bike, it still will not be a trivial ride. At least I won't be riding with the typical hammerhead pack this time, so maybe I'll actually enjoy it and not be such an ornery lad by Patten Hill.

So, Did You Do It?

That was the question many Hill Junkie readers asked me after the Mt Washington race. The "it" refers to beating my personal best from 2008. Before I answer the question, I'm going to back-track a bit and share the battle I fought in my head for the last couple months. Fill the coffee mug. I'm in an introspective mood.

I've been racing up Mt Washington since 2000. A few years ago, I decided it was silly to keep chasing new personal bests as I get older. I've always believed the process of staying fit was more important than achieving results at events. Stress is greatly diminished, and you never set yourself up for disappointment that way. The vast majority of my riding is for fun. The number of hours I've spent on a mountain bike this season is a case in point. Half my hours were off-road and not training-centric. Riding for fun is good for the soul.

I've been running a couple years now, and I quickly realized a cycling motor carries over quite nicely to running. I placed well at the CIGNA 5k race last year (my time would have won the 50+ age group out of hundreds, just days before my 50th birthday).  I thought it would be cool to go for the win this year when I was actually 50.  Not only that, I wanted to run a sub-17:30 5k this year.  I ran only about 1-1.5hrs per week last year.  That left considerable room for improvement.  I'd have to run a bit more for loftier goals, and more intensely. I thought these goals, winning CIGNA with sub-17:30 time would be easily achievable.

I figured while I was honing my aerobic engine for shorter efforts, maybe I should also go for a new PR on Mt Washington. I got greedy. The events are just over a week apart. I'd either thrive or self-destruct.

I quickly learned I couldn't simultaneously train in both disciplines to be a high-end performer in each. I suffered recurring knee overuse pain and my bike workouts began to suffer. I ran with too much intensity on my rest days off the bike. Bike miles became junk miles and run miles kept me tired. I had to chose. My first passion is riding. If I had to cut something, it wasn't going to be cycling. I jettisoned the idea of running a fast CIGNA 5k and nearly abandoned running for the summer. I would go for a solitary high-risk goal of posting my fastest finish on Mt Washington yet.

There are so many things wrong this. It creates weight management stress, being fussier about training, added stress in relationships, and the huge risk of what if the race is cancelled like in 2007 or there are 60 mph winds up top? I was setting myself up for potential major disappointment.

After disappointing results on Okemo, Ascutney and Equinox, I felt a PR on Washington was completely out of reach. The Ascutney result was especially disappointing, because I actually rested for that event and had one of my slowest finishes ever there. My predicted Washington time based on Ascutney was more than six minutes off my PR. You don't make up 10% power deficiency in a few weeks. An elite triathlete friend said I needed rest. I could rest my way to a PR. Huh? His advice has been spot on before, and sometimes it takes an outside observer to objectively point out what's going on. I did not ignore this advice.

Training specifically for Mt Washington nearly killed me a week before the race. Doing repeats on Mt Kearsarge, I crashed spectacularly on my last descent. This resulted in a wrist fracture, but fortunately nothing else. At first I thought Washington was out. But no, I modified my bike for a more comfortable wrist position and told myself I'll deal with the consequences afterwards. A glimmer of hope came out of this workout though. I posted some of my best 20 minute power numbers in a long time. My third and slowest time up, I averaged 316W for 22 minutes. I figured this was a power I could come pretty close to averaging on Mt Washington. And if I did that and the weather was good, I had a reasonable chance at a PR.

The last two weeks in preparation were stressful.  Many Mt Washington fans understand this. It is the high point of the season for most competitors on the Rock Pile. I was the most careful I had ever been with my diet. I didn't diet per se, but I cut out most of the dark chocolate I ate daily and other junky calorie boosters.  My colleagues didn't help any, recognizing I was stressing over dietary decisions. They'd go out of their way to bring me donuts, brownies, pizza, you name it, anything left over from meetings and such. Pure torment. They wanted to bring Fat Doug back.  An evil bunch! My willpower failed several times.

Their attempts proved futile. Midday, the day before the race, I weighed in at my lowest weight ever for Mt Washington, but by only a little bit. In case you're afraid to ask, it was 156.4 lbs (70.9kg). That gave me a bit of a mental boost.

The night before the race, Brett Rutledge, my wife and I went out for pasta. It was quite salty and the portions were large. Great. Another test. Normally, I wouldn't hesitate one millisecond in devouring the whole plate. I'm proud to say I ate only a little over half. I was worried about how much sodium I consumed though. A spike in sodium intake will spike water retention with spike weight. That weight will not increase my power output, so my W/kg would go down. Before retiring for the night, I hydrated on a bottle of Biotta beet root juice. I still  have no hard personal evidence that I derive any performance benefit from it, but it can't hurt, and it certainly is a healthy way to hydrate. If nothing else, it may have a placebo effect benefit.

Ok, finally getting to the race. Warming up Saturday morning, my legs didn't feel lively at all, despite one of the most restful weeks I've taken in years. In fact, my legs felt better the day before when I did a couple brief efforts. I had trouble keeping power under 300W on Friday, but had trouble pushing 300W on Saturday. That really sucked. I did a pretty mellow warmup, about 20-25 minutes total, with only two 300W efforts for about 90sec each. Mt Washington is a threshold level effort, and you do not want to go too hard at the start, so an hour-plus rider doesn't need to do deep anaerobic openers right before the race.

We had a huge elite Top Notch field. Over a hundred I think. Star-studded too, with guys like Cameron Cogburn and Jeremiah Bishop present. I don't have a light enough power meter set-up to race with, so my plan was to pace off Erik Vandendries, who I know to be an exceptionally good pacer. He is slightly faster than me, so I know if I start out faster than him, I'm starting out way too fast.

The cannon goes off and we're off. There's about 10 seconds of shifting up through gears before you even more rapidly shift all the way back down as you head into the 12+ percent grade. I stuck to plan and never passed Erik. The pace felt quite manageable for a while. Many, many riders bolted on ahead. I've learned to block that out, knowing that I'll see many of them 10 minutes later after they blow up.

It didn't take long until things thinned way out. We had ourselves a nice little four-some, John Bayley, Erik Vandendries and James Hayes. I know these rider's abilities well. James and I sprinted for the first-mile $500 prime at Equinox two weeks earlier. The thing was, I thought I didn't belong with these guys on Mt Washington. John usually finishes much ahead of me, being a recent one-hour finisher on Mt Washington. I surely was going out too hard, but I kept thinking it was sustainable for quite a while. So I went with it.

When we got to about the four mile marker/4000ft elevation, our little group was still intact but starting to fracture. John put in some surges on the steeper bits that gapped the rest of us. James rolled Erik and I off too.  I knew the wind had picked up at the summit just before the race started, so I desperately wanted to pilfer off somebody's effort when we rounded the turn to head straight into the wind. But no, Erik rolled me off his wheel on "5 mile grade," the long gravel section. At least we had tail wind there. I would be on my own for the rest of the climb.

The wind proved to be far more formidable than we were led to believe. It wasn't the 60mph stuff we deal with sometimes, but it surely was more than some of the forecasts saying 5mph or 11mph. Turns out it was steady 30mph gusting above 40. I had a PR pace going at the four mile marker, but now all bets were off. Erik didn't seemed to be fazed by the wind and started putting time on me. I could still see John and James most of the time. I've never stayed this close to John this far into a climb before. Either he was having a bad day or I was doing really well.

The hard left turn to get out of the headwind couldn't come soon enough. Seemed like I spent half the race going into the wind. I had a flat bar on my bike, so I couldn't really get aero. My wrist wouldn't allow it anyway. At least the pain was manageable. Or maybe I just became numb to the pain. Extreme focus has a way of doing that.

After some flatter terrain with tail wind that lasted all of five heartbeats, there was more headwind coming into mile marker 7. I felt a PR slipping away. But Hill Junkie fan Stephanie Schoff Jacques was there with a cowbell and "Hill Junkie" chalked on the road. Looking at my Strava data, my estimated power output went up 30% after that for a while. That was the boost I was looking for.  I was right on the hairy edge of pulling off a PR, I couldn't throw in the towel with less than 1km to go!

Photo and artwork by Stephanie Schoff Jacques

I dug exceptionally deep. The problem was, I had that nasty 22% wall to go after already burying myself for several minutes just before it. I thought I was going to have to dismount and run up. It was the most ugly ascent of the pitch ever for me. It was the ruckus of the crowd up top that propped me up for those last hundred meters. I made it without falling over. I crossed the timing mats in 1:05:12. That was 21 seconds faster than 2008. I did it!

Coming over finish line. Photo by Heather Dunkerley.

It was a good day to be alive on the Rock Pile. It was windy. It was cold. The summit was in and out of the clouds. There was a lot of energy in the crowd up top. A surreal experience.  I always feel most alive when I'm outside pushing my physical limits up a mountain. This year's climb was my toughest, not necessarily physically, but mentally. On the cusp of bettering my fastest for much of the climb, extraordinary focus was needed to not let it slip away.

It is interesting to compare the times of Gerry Clapper, James, Erik and myself between Equinox and Washington. We finished in exactly the same order, very close to each other. The biggest difference is James and I finished closer to Gerry and Erik on Mt Washington. I suspect this is because we didn't go for any crazy $500 sprints early in Washington.

I got a chance to sit and talk with Jeremiah Bishop. An icon of the mountain biking world, he his very approachable and open.  He's mentoring Cameron Cogburn, who handily won the day's race with a time of 50:48. Jeremiah doesn't mince words when discussing the issue of PEDs in our sport. Cameron gave up professional cycling to pursue an advanced degree at MIT, is riding clean, and came wicked close to beating a confessed doper's record on Mt Washington.  Hopefully Cameron can claim the title, or even better, beat it outright riding clean. I believe he would have done that Saturday had he not raced the grueling Leadville 100 MTB race the weekend before.

Getting warm with Brett Rutledge, HJ, Tom Barton and Jeremiah Bishop (left to right)

In the 14 years I've been racing the Rock Pile, there have never been as many sub-hour finishers as this year - nine riders!  Conditions were good, but there have been years with no wind and many fewer sub-hour finishers. The average is 5, some years see only 2 or 3. It's the depth of talent that has grown. I was the top finisher from New Hampshire.

My wrist was in a major funk after the race. I had to cut off the tape job right away, as there was swelling and my fingers were going numb. Eight days later, I'm not even close to pouring milk with my left hand. I have to let my wrist heal now, as I head out west in less than four weeks where I plan to do some off-road riding. Going to be harder to hold back than when I broke my leg. I had no choice in that case.

Swelling is down, but this still don't look right. The tendons are extremely sore.

Thanks for the encouragement many of you sent my way and thanks for reading. I'll leave you with a few more pictures from Saturday.

Brief clear instant looking up at finish

Looking north/north-easterly from observation deck

Summit conditions during race

The "Rock Pile"

Heading up the 22% grade trying to not fall over

Mile 7 with a thumbs up. Photo by Stephanie Schoff Jacques

The 50+ podium, with David O'keeffe, Gerry Clapper and myself. Photo courtesy of Mt Washington

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