Check in for the race starts at 5:00 and ends at 6:15. I figured I could check in at 5:30 and still get a spot pretty close to the front, but that didn't work out. People had already come and checked in, laying their bikes in the starting area. I ended up about 3/4 of the way back in the starting field. Being so far back is a big disadvantage because the first bit of pavement leaving the town is a neutral roll-out behind a police vehicle, so there's really no chance to move yourself up in the field. They just deposit all 802 riders onto the first dirt road at exactly the same time.
As we came onto that first dirt road, I heard what sounded like a second shotgun blast up ahead (The mayor of Leadville had started the race with a shotgun blast). Shortly thereafter we passed a guy standing on the side of the road staring at his bike in disbelief; his race was over. His rear tubeless tire had blown off, covering him and the bike with Stan's goo. As we rode by, somebody yelled "Don't you have a tube?" No answer, just more staring... guess not.
After those first few easy miles rolling downhill out of town, the fun began. They throw two pretty dramatic climbs at you right off the bat... the first being a 5-mile climb over St Kevin's mining district, and the second another 5 miles or so over Sugarloaf pass. These climbs are long, but not terribly difficult. Even so, you can't make very good time here unless you're near the front. Otherwise, people in front of you are just holding you back.
The descent from Sugarloaf is called "Powerline." Essentially it's just an incredibly steep, 2-mile, washed-out powerline right-of-way. It was challenging descent, but I was already dreading coming back over it toward the end of the race.
Shortly after the Powerline descent was the first full aid station, where riders can meet their support crews. Those of us who didn't have support crews along packed supply drop bags that were taken to the aid stations by race volunteers. I found my drop bag, shed my arm warmers and vest, swapped Perpetuem bottles, and got back on the bike quickly to make the 15-mile jaunt to the next aid station at the Twin Lakes Dam (the base of the climb to the Columbine Mine).Now for the climb to Columbine: this is the climb everybody talks about as being incredibly tough. Really, the first several miles are fairly easy. They're steep, but It's a really well-maintained fire road, so it's smooth.
Right after the climb started, something happened that I'll never forget. We had been warned that the Columbine climb is the one place you'll have lots of two-way traffic. Just as I started up it, I saw the first rider coming toward me, and sure enough I could make out that distinctive green Yeti color (Dave Wiens, now winner of the last 4 LT100s had switched from a Maverick to a Yeti this year). As he got close enough for me to read his race number "1," the words "Go Dave!" were just getting ready to come out of my mouth when he cut me off, yelling "Good job, man!"
Startled, the only reply I could muster before he was out of earshot was "Thanks! Awesome ride Dave!" Having a personal (to me, anyway) interaction with the big star of the race was a big inspiration. Wiens is a class act, and I can only imagine how many other riders he encouraged on his way down the mountain.
After those first several miles of the Columbine climb, it did get harder. The last few miles alternated between rideable and hike-a-bike steep. Hiking with your bike as it starts raining for a half mile at a time gets discouraging at times, but you just keep putting one foot in front of the other and eventually you come to a rideable stretch again.
Coming out into the open above the treeline at Columbine mine is an awesome feeling. You can see the aid station just a couple miles ahead, and when you finally get there and get a cup of soup to warm you up it feels incredible.
Then its a matter of retracing your route back to Leadville. The Columbine descent is long and fun, but rough in places during the first few miles. I'm not that great a technical descender anyway, so I rode well within my ablities.
When I got down, it had briefly stopped raining and I was hot, so I took off my rain jacket. Then I made a mistake that I'm planning to submit for the "Brainfart of the Year" award. After I took on more food and drink, I took off, forgetting to repack my rain jacket in my seat bag. Of course, it started raining again a couple of miles later and never stopped for the rest of the race.
Powerline was indeed a bitch to get back over. I was able to ride up about a quarter of the first leg of Powerline, but it was raining so hard I couldn't see well enough to pick a clean line up. Once you start walking Powerline, there's no getting back on the bike. Nobody around me was riding up it. It's just a 2 mile long slog back up where you came from. To top it all off, the powerlines themselves were making this really eerie twanging noise in the rain. The sound of that combined with heavy breathing and the sound of cycling shoes and cleats crunching up the hill is one that will echo in my ears for a long long time.
Normally, after getting back over Powerline, you'd be home free. But descending the other side in the rain without my rain gear I got a chill I just couldn't shack. I got so cold my back and neck and shoulders were cramping like crazy because they weren't working hard. I had to get off the bike three times on the way down to stretch them out so I could continue.
When I came to the last paved turn on the course (4.5 miles to go), I asked a volunteer at the turn what the elapsed time was. He said 12:07, so knowing I was out of a buckle anyway I soft pedalled up "the Boulevard" to 6th Street. When we came onto the finishing straight, I still had some legs, so I picked off two riders in front of me just for prides' sake. They hung a little finishers' medal on me, and I headed home for a shower.
All in all, this ride is well worth doing, even if you don't finish. The scenery and the challenge are second to none. You see incredible mountains, two beautiful lakes, rainbows in cowfields, forests, etc.
That's all I've got. I'm going back next year with a support crew to get my 12-hour buckle. Who's coming with me?
1 comment:
That was a great read, Bernie. Thanks for sharing. Congratulations.
-winteristoofar.com
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