Vision Quest 2008: Mission Accomplished!
Wow! That's all I can say...wow! 56.5 miles off-road with 11,500 feet of climbing. (I actually have a lot more to say, so keep reading...)
Dan (on my left) and me...as I finish VQ.
Photo taken by John Early (KeepsWhatHappens)
This entry is going to be long, so I'll break it up into 3 parts: pre-event, event, and post-event.
The Pre-event
The preparation for VQ had been going on for several months, and we were finally rapidly approaching the day, March 1, where we would prove it...were we ready or not? It seemed like our training rides with the Manns had been painful enough, but still, there was always a tiny shred of doubt lurking in the back of my mind. I raced last weekend at Fontana (my 3rd XC of the year) and was feeling some pain above my left knee in the inner quad area. I took most of the week off and only did a short workout on Thursday night. Dan and I got most of our stuff packed up on Thursday so we'd be ready to roll Friday after work. I bought a couple new things on Wednesday: a small commuter light, a bento box to store some of my food, and another water bottle cage. I installed them and everything was in tip top shape.
Friday night we drove up to Lake Forest and split a hotel room with Allison & Justin so we wouldn't have to drive up super early for the event. We had a quick visit from Andy & Heather (they are quite possibly the sweetest people I know), and we tried to get to bed early. I think I finally turned in around 9:30 and slept pretty much through the night. The alarm went off around 3:15, and I was pretty much wide awake. We sat around eating and making final preparations.
I had decided to forego wearing a watch or using a computer/Garmin. I actually did NOT want to know what time it was. I was concerned that if I wore a watch, I would constantly look at it, and the whole thing would become a sad mental game that I would lose. My ignorance of time turned out to work just fine, and I'm glad I chose it.
We drove over to drop off my car at Cook's around 4:15 or so. It was misting out, not at all what I had anticipated for weather. I had pretty much dialed my clothing routine in during our training rides, but I didn't want to stop to remove clothes (which I always had done during training) so I was a bit concerned about this new wrinkle...the rain/mist. We got to Blackstar and there were already many cars lining the street. It was so dark out. It was kind of sad because there were so many friends and STR folks out there who I didn't see to wish them luck simply because...I couldn't see them! I finished getting dressed and opted for this outfit: my Path woolie socks, XC shoes with toe covers, SheBeest knickers, Ibex woolie short sleeve base layer, Path XC jersey, PI wool arm warmers, Troy Lee gloves and no hat. I didn’t even pack any extra clothes except my shell, which I put on and then took off before we even started. I knew I was going to be hot by the time we started climbing, and I was. Might have been able to get away without the wool base layer, but I still don’t know?
The Event
Dan, Allison, Justin and I all gathered once we passed through the initial check-in. I saw Donna and Deb and that was about it for familiar faces…it was just too dark to notice anyone! Chris Vargas from the WS said a few words and then, before I knew it, it was time to get ready for the start. It all went so fast. I pushed up toward the front of the group and when the riders went off, I put it in my middle ring and started pedaling pretty hard. Dan was on my left, and I lost the Manns. There was not much difficulty going up the bottom of Blackstar. There were a lot of riders but everyone was pretty calm and orderly. I made it past any mud or ruts without a problem and kept a good pace up to the first switchback. I was already tugging at my zipper because I was so hot.
Pretty soon, Allison and Justin caught up with me, and Dan had already disappeared. The Manns kept it in a pretty tough gear, and I couldn’t hold on to the pace. At that point, I resolved one thing (something I had told myself before, but now, being in the heat of the moment, I became set on): I was going to race my own race. I would not try to hold anyone’s wheel or chase anyone down. I was simply going to go at my pace and be my own boss. I had no watch and no way to gauge time. I would only have myself and my body to listen to.
I made it past the speed bumps on Blackstar and then got shoved off into a big rut trying to give another rider room on my left. Got back on and kept going. My pace was pretty slow, and my gear was pretty easy. It always takes me a long time to warm up. Usually, I finish a ride much stronger than I can start it. I knew this was to be expected and just tried to keep humping up the hill. The Manns and Dan were long gone, but I certainly wasn’t alone. It was a surreal, beautiful sight seeing the line of bobbing lights above and below me. I felt deeply connected to the other riders, most complete strangers to me but yet bonded to me due to our love of the bike. At one point, Donna caught up with me and we leap-frogged a bit, but she was mostly out ahead of me by several bike lengths. I passed the huge washout at the top of Blackstar and found that the Warrior’s had done a lot of work to make it safe. It was light out by this point. I kept going, in an easy gear, up to Beek’s place. I caught a familiar face, Hugh, and waved to him as I went by. There was so much fog up on the hill, and in the end I think it worked to my advantage. We had ridden the Blackstar-MD-Eagle-Skyline-Blackstar loop during training, so I mostly knew what to expect. I was grateful for the fog, though, because it made the climbs less intimidating for me. Between Beek’s and the next peak, we climbed out of the clouds and the sun was shining. To the east and west was a view of the most surreal sight I’ve seen in a while… clouds…stretching out to the horizons and the peaks of the Santa Ana’s poking out like tiny islands in a vast white sea. Beautiful.
I kept leap-frogging with JCampbell from STR, and I told him about the story Justin had told me about Dave Zibriskie on one of our training rides. Right before a particularly steep climb, we all pulled aside to rest. Justin told me how Dave Zibriskie had bracelets made for his riding partners that said “Harden the Fuck Up.” I told JCampbell the same story before the same climb and he looked at me with determination in his eyes. I also ran into Jeff (sailcalifornia), and an STR lurker with a British (?) accent who asked me if I was sdyeti. Toward the top of the climb, I pulled slowly away from Donna and never saw her again.
The rest of Main Divide to the top of Motorway was foggy and intermittently sunny. The downhills were particularly sketchy due to the limited visibility. I knew I still had a pretty long pull left before Motorway. Surely enough, the climbs came in rapid succession, but they weren’t as bad as I had remembered. Once I passed the turnoff for Eagle, I began to feel like a blind rider. I had never ridden between Eagle and Santiago because of the forest closure. I didn’t do any of the guided rides and was going strictly on mental imagery of maps, stories from others, and intuition.
I finally reach the top of Motorway and there, in the mist, was Allison. I couldn’t believe I had caught up to them (they did take a break here, but I still assumed them to be far, far ahead of me). I had some hope of being on time rekindled. I saw OMR (Gregg), and in my haze, called him Gene! I corrected myself and rolled by. There were several slower looking riders ahead of me. I was trying to take some Endurolytes from my little packet and Jeff rolled by, asking if I was okay. I finally downed a few (along with a couple Advil) and kept going. My left knee/quad was beginning to twinge, and I became concerned that it would get so bad that I would be unable to continue. I thought, “Until it happens, I’m still riding.” I started the descent down Motorway, and my triceps were already starting to burn. Jeff was behind me when we came to what looked like a turn. I asked him if it was the right way, since there were no riders that we could see up ahead. He said he didn’t know either. That was the last I saw of Jeff since I put some distance on him in the downhill. The trail was choppy and rocky and would’ve been fun if I could have gotten a flow. Lots of riders pulled over to let me by. There was a guy on a ss hardtail that I followed for a long while. He was fast, but I knew I had to pass him eventually. I got by him toward the bottom. My arms were fried. My brakes were fading. I was two-finger braking. I never felt really sketchy, just a little. We came to the gates at the bottom of Motorway, and a WS member lifted my bike over the first. When I lifted my bike over the second and stepped over, my legs felt so bad. I rolled down to the aid station. It looked like mild pandemonium. Riders and bags everywhere. I saw Andy step up and take my picture. I said hi, asked him the time (8:10) and kept riding.
At this point, the dreaded Maple Springs climb was my next obstacle. Allison was right in front of me, and Justin was right there too. I tried to eat a part of my Uncrustables and kept riding. I was alternating between HEED, water, and occasionally, Perpetuem for liquids. Pretty soon, the Manns were way ahead, and I lost sight of them. This turned out to be a very dark time for me. My left lower back was having a jabbing pain. I couldn’t feel my feet (I had lost my left toe cover somewhere on Blackstar). I kept going up the pavement in my granny gear. I considered going back to the aid station. I thought of quitting and was in pretty bad spirits. I got passed by a lot of people. Finally, for the first time in the ride, I got off my bike and walked. My back instantly thanked me. My feet finally started to get some circulation. I came to a switchback by a creek-crossing and got back on the bike. I knew that if I could just make it to the dirt, I would be okay. Pretty soon, Luke passed me. We chatted for a second or two, and he slowly pulled away. I could see him out ahead for a long time, and very gradually I lost sight of him toward the top of Maple. Rachel aka Wrecker also caught up to me, though I had passed her on Motorway. I had the same few guys out ahead of me for much of the climb, but mostly, I felt pretty much alone.
Finally, I broke through the clouds and could see the ridge up above, knowing that Main Divide was up there. I felt hopeful. I had made it through the darkest time. The sun was out, and I started to see pine trees. I was energized. I tried to pedal mostly in my middle-3rd gear, but my left leg wouldn’t allow mashing any hard gear. I backed off. After what seemed like forever, I made it to 4 corners. I kept right on rolling through. From here, I pushed a nice gear most of the way to Modjeska Peak . I found a rhythm and was able to hold it most of the way. I knew that the first towers on Modjeska were only a prelude to Santiago , so I kept it all in stride. I was completely ignorant to the time or my overall progress, but I didn’t seem to care. The only thing that was really bothering me was my ass. My new saddle was hurting me, and I had to keep shifting to relieve the pressure. I rounded the corner at the top of Modjeska and there it was… Santiago with its long switchbacks and numerous towers. I knew the lure of the peak but also knew that looks were deceiving with Santiago . I was pleasantly surprised by a nice down-sloping section and put it in my big ring and hammered across, trying to “make up” time. I passed a couple guys walking and remembered to eat a bit. I was really enjoying the scenery since it was all new to me. I was soaking it in. By this point, I was rocking out to my iPod and was in pretty good spirits. I enjoyed a brief tailwind going up the peak, but as I rounded the next switchback, I was slapped with a headwind in return. I had to get off and walk for a minute or so to stretch my legs but I got back on pretty quickly. Finally, finally I made it to the descent. There were a couple guys resting on the ground eating snacks, and I wanted to join them but kept going. I ate the other half of my Uncrustables, took some Endurolytes, and made it cautiously down to Upper Holy Jim.
At UHJ, I stopped to drop my saddle a bit. Got going quickly, knowing that the clock was ticking. I had, quite possible, the best ride down UHJ, ever. The WS had done a fabulous job making the trail very rideable, and I cleaned almost every switchback. A few guys pulled over to let me by, mentioning that I seemed to be going fast. I had also put my fork up to 130, which helped slacken it out a bit and take the bumps better. I had a moment of sadness realizing that if I was doing Counting Coup, I’d be almost done. I got to the bottom of UHJ and with my lowered seat, struggled over to Holy Jim. I walked down the entrance (even though it was cleaned up a bit and I could have ridden it, just maybe not today). The photographer was there, capturing every exciting step! A rider behind me tried to ride down it and ended up shooting off the trail, but he saved it. I went ahead, and then had to walk up that stupid little climb at the beginning. The rider behind me (I’ll call him XC guy) went ahead. Very quickly, though, I caught up to him. There was a lot of traffic on HJ today…hikers, other bikers, even a group of Boy Scouts (wondering why anyone, seeing the vast number of riders coming down the trail with number plates on, would’ve kept going up the trail…you know, it is SoCal, where a lot of people seem clueless about obvious things!) I passed Rachel again (she had crashed on Motorway and was taking it easy on the descent). Compared to the last time I rode down HJ, this time was nearly perfect. I was going pretty fast, flowing the trail, making all the trick, techy parts. I kept my XC guy ahead of me, in my sights, the whole time, which helped on the switchbacks. I tipped over again in the same switchback as last time, and wasn’t hurt, just floundering around.
Then, it was time for the water-crossings. I walked across the first one. And the second one. By the third and fourth, I rode across as much as I could to try to save time. My left foot got soaked, then my right. HJ was a blast, though, and I was making up a lot of time (the Yeti turned out to be a blessing because I could take bigger hits with confidence and ride faster down the technical). I felt like I was flying, in the true sense of the word. I felt like I was experiencing mountain biking, in its purest, most amazing form. Bliss. At the last water-crossing I saw Hugh and a box of Uncrustables on the ground. He took my picture and asked if I wanted one. I declined, saying I had one so to save it for someone else. Before I knew it, I was at the parking lot and Aid Station #2. I just happened to see Justin pulling away from the station and yelled his name twice. He didn’t respond. I finally yelled “Bucky!!” He turned around and motioned for me to follow him. I yelled that I needed water. There was some confusion because a WS volunteer steered me left (so I could get water), but I just wanted to know the time. I shouted, “Am I on time?” Someone reminded me, in my foggy state, that yes I seemed to be on time but that would be determined at the bottom of WHT (the actual cutoff). “XC guy” graciously helped me get some water (thank you so much), and I stopped to refill my pill packet and eat another Uncrustables.
I knew that the worst of it was behind me. I knew Allison & Justin were not too far ahead, and I felt an odd calm. On one of our training rides, we followed this route (up Trabuco, then WHT). I had had a terrible time of it, walking about 80% of the way. Strangely, as I started to retrace our route, I knew I would be fine. There were many of the pro riders coming back down Trabuco (they were finishing), namely Leslie and Pua. I said hi to both and was glad to see them. Many of the guys did nothing to yield the trail. When I was able to, I pulled off if I saw them in time, but there were some close calls. Funny how trail etiquette meant very little to many of these folks. I walked a few short sections of Trabuco but rode about 90% of it. I was stoked. I came up to the cutoff and yelled out, “Did I make it?!” The WS volunteer said that yes, I did, with about 25 minutes to spare. I was elated! I knew that the rest was going to be fine. I had made it. I came up the trail a few dozen feet and saw Allison & Justin standing there, waiting for me, and taking my picture. We all hugged and shed a few tears. I was so happy to have make it there and found them.
Our celebration was brief, though, as we knew the HAB from hell was upon us. I tried to focus on just moving forward, and that helped. I only stopped twice. I ended up chatting the whole way up with Ernie, a triathlete from Temecula. A & J were just slightly ahead, and Rachel caught up. She must have been rocking up the climbs! Ernie and I passed the time by telling lots of stories. Before I knew it, we were at the top and reaching the station at the top of WHT. I passed on the offer for a burger, but slurped down two cups of Cytomax and ate a piece of a Clif bar. A & J had kept going, but I had a sense I’d see them again. I tried to keep a good pace over to Trabuco, and about halfway there, I saw the Manns again. They towed me up to Trabuco, and I gave a good sigh of relief…all the climbing was over. We still had the technical descents of the trail ahead, and I had been slightly concerned about my energy level…would I be fresh enough to make it safely down the trail? Turned out that yes, I was super fresh indeed. I railed down Trabuco and had a great time of it. I felt so strong, so confident. In fact, it turned out that yes, I finished my ride much stronger than I had started it. I went ahead of A & J and just ripped down the trail. I sustained my only injury of the day, though. A pretty big rock (baseball-softball sized) got kicked up by my front wheel and spun backward, only to tag me hard in the left shin. Ouchie!! Got down to the bottom of Trabuco and waited for the Manns. We lifted our bikes over the gate and then, the race down the road was on!! We saw Gene at the bottom of HJ (turns out he had flatted), and he quickly distanced us.
I was surprised at the terrible shape of Trabuco Creek Road . Big holes, mud bogs, and deep creek crossings were everywhere. It felt like being on the worst road in a foreign country. I knew the road was 4 miles long, but it seemed never-ending. I was riding really strong for the first half, but by the second half, I was fading. The Manns and Ernie put a little gap on me, but I kept going until the finish. Final time was about 8:47, far under the 9:30 I had wanted to get. It was all kind of a blur. I was smiling and so happy to be done. Strangely, though, I didn’t feel entirely drained (maybe I still had something left?). I immediately looked for Dan, and there he was…smiling and waiting for me. He kicked ass and finished about an hour ahead of us…what an animal!! We all hugged, got our pictures taken, and chilled with Ann & Andy, Heather & Andy, Jeff, Jordan , etc. and sipped on some beer. Everyone took such good care of us…I was so touched.
The Post-Event
We decided to ride back to O’Neill to get food and a ride back to the truck/car. My left hip flexor, left knee, and the tops of both hamstrings were in pretty bad shape, but I made it over pretty quickly. We got a couple bites of chicken, rice, beans, and tortillas before I had to load up and get a ride back to the vehicles. Justin and I went, while Allison & Dan stayed behind to eat and try to stay warm. My feet were so wet and cold!! Regina gave us and about 5 other folks a ride to Blackstar. We got in the truck and drove to Cook’s where Dan and I had parked early in the morning. I put the heat on blast and zoomed back to deliver dry clothes to Dan. I quickly changed and warmed up and went back for more food. I brought out the brownies I had made, and they were gone in a flash!! We spent a long while chatting and hanging with the STR posse, our friends, and comrades.
What will the next adventure be? What will be the next goal? Of course there has to be a “next”…there will always be a “next”. I will ponder my feather. I will let my spirit guide me.
Dan (on my left) and me...as I finish VQ.
Photo taken by John Early (KeepsWhatHappens)
This entry is going to be long, so I'll break it up into 3 parts: pre-event, event, and post-event.
The Pre-event
The preparation for VQ had been going on for several months, and we were finally rapidly approaching the day, March 1, where we would prove it...were we ready or not? It seemed like our training rides with the Manns had been painful enough, but still, there was always a tiny shred of doubt lurking in the back of my mind. I raced last weekend at Fontana (my 3rd XC of the year) and was feeling some pain above my left knee in the inner quad area. I took most of the week off and only did a short workout on Thursday night. Dan and I got most of our stuff packed up on Thursday so we'd be ready to roll Friday after work. I bought a couple new things on Wednesday: a small commuter light, a bento box to store some of my food, and another water bottle cage. I installed them and everything was in tip top shape.
Friday night we drove up to Lake Forest and split a hotel room with Allison & Justin so we wouldn't have to drive up super early for the event. We had a quick visit from Andy & Heather (they are quite possibly the sweetest people I know), and we tried to get to bed early. I think I finally turned in around 9:30 and slept pretty much through the night. The alarm went off around 3:15, and I was pretty much wide awake. We sat around eating and making final preparations.
I had decided to forego wearing a watch or using a computer/Garmin. I actually did NOT want to know what time it was. I was concerned that if I wore a watch, I would constantly look at it, and the whole thing would become a sad mental game that I would lose. My ignorance of time turned out to work just fine, and I'm glad I chose it.
We drove over to drop off my car at Cook's around 4:15 or so. It was misting out, not at all what I had anticipated for weather. I had pretty much dialed my clothing routine in during our training rides, but I didn't want to stop to remove clothes (which I always had done during training) so I was a bit concerned about this new wrinkle...the rain/mist. We got to Blackstar and there were already many cars lining the street. It was so dark out. It was kind of sad because there were so many friends and STR folks out there who I didn't see to wish them luck simply because...I couldn't see them! I finished getting dressed and opted for this outfit: my Path woolie socks, XC shoes with toe covers, SheBeest knickers, Ibex woolie short sleeve base layer, Path XC jersey, PI wool arm warmers, Troy Lee gloves and no hat. I didn’t even pack any extra clothes except my shell, which I put on and then took off before we even started. I knew I was going to be hot by the time we started climbing, and I was. Might have been able to get away without the wool base layer, but I still don’t know?
The Event
Dan, Allison, Justin and I all gathered once we passed through the initial check-in. I saw Donna and Deb and that was about it for familiar faces…it was just too dark to notice anyone! Chris Vargas from the WS said a few words and then, before I knew it, it was time to get ready for the start. It all went so fast. I pushed up toward the front of the group and when the riders went off, I put it in my middle ring and started pedaling pretty hard. Dan was on my left, and I lost the Manns. There was not much difficulty going up the bottom of Blackstar. There were a lot of riders but everyone was pretty calm and orderly. I made it past any mud or ruts without a problem and kept a good pace up to the first switchback. I was already tugging at my zipper because I was so hot.
Pretty soon, Allison and Justin caught up with me, and Dan had already disappeared. The Manns kept it in a pretty tough gear, and I couldn’t hold on to the pace. At that point, I resolved one thing (something I had told myself before, but now, being in the heat of the moment, I became set on): I was going to race my own race. I would not try to hold anyone’s wheel or chase anyone down. I was simply going to go at my pace and be my own boss. I had no watch and no way to gauge time. I would only have myself and my body to listen to.
I made it past the speed bumps on Blackstar and then got shoved off into a big rut trying to give another rider room on my left. Got back on and kept going. My pace was pretty slow, and my gear was pretty easy. It always takes me a long time to warm up. Usually, I finish a ride much stronger than I can start it. I knew this was to be expected and just tried to keep humping up the hill. The Manns and Dan were long gone, but I certainly wasn’t alone. It was a surreal, beautiful sight seeing the line of bobbing lights above and below me. I felt deeply connected to the other riders, most complete strangers to me but yet bonded to me due to our love of the bike. At one point, Donna caught up with me and we leap-frogged a bit, but she was mostly out ahead of me by several bike lengths. I passed the huge washout at the top of Blackstar and found that the Warrior’s had done a lot of work to make it safe. It was light out by this point. I kept going, in an easy gear, up to Beek’s place. I caught a familiar face, Hugh, and waved to him as I went by. There was so much fog up on the hill, and in the end I think it worked to my advantage. We had ridden the Blackstar-MD-Eagle-Skyline-Blackstar loop during training, so I mostly knew what to expect. I was grateful for the fog, though, because it made the climbs less intimidating for me. Between Beek’s and the next peak, we climbed out of the clouds and the sun was shining. To the east and west was a view of the most surreal sight I’ve seen in a while… clouds…stretching out to the horizons and the peaks of the Santa Ana’s poking out like tiny islands in a vast white sea. Beautiful.
I kept leap-frogging with JCampbell from STR, and I told him about the story Justin had told me about Dave Zibriskie on one of our training rides. Right before a particularly steep climb, we all pulled aside to rest. Justin told me how Dave Zibriskie had bracelets made for his riding partners that said “Harden the Fuck Up.” I told JCampbell the same story before the same climb and he looked at me with determination in his eyes. I also ran into Jeff (sailcalifornia), and an STR lurker with a British (?) accent who asked me if I was sdyeti. Toward the top of the climb, I pulled slowly away from Donna and never saw her again.
The rest of Main Divide to the top of Motorway was foggy and intermittently sunny. The downhills were particularly sketchy due to the limited visibility. I knew I still had a pretty long pull left before Motorway. Surely enough, the climbs came in rapid succession, but they weren’t as bad as I had remembered. Once I passed the turnoff for Eagle, I began to feel like a blind rider. I had never ridden between Eagle and Santiago because of the forest closure. I didn’t do any of the guided rides and was going strictly on mental imagery of maps, stories from others, and intuition.
I finally reach the top of Motorway and there, in the mist, was Allison. I couldn’t believe I had caught up to them (they did take a break here, but I still assumed them to be far, far ahead of me). I had some hope of being on time rekindled. I saw OMR (Gregg), and in my haze, called him Gene! I corrected myself and rolled by. There were several slower looking riders ahead of me. I was trying to take some Endurolytes from my little packet and Jeff rolled by, asking if I was okay. I finally downed a few (along with a couple Advil) and kept going. My left knee/quad was beginning to twinge, and I became concerned that it would get so bad that I would be unable to continue. I thought, “Until it happens, I’m still riding.” I started the descent down Motorway, and my triceps were already starting to burn. Jeff was behind me when we came to what looked like a turn. I asked him if it was the right way, since there were no riders that we could see up ahead. He said he didn’t know either. That was the last I saw of Jeff since I put some distance on him in the downhill. The trail was choppy and rocky and would’ve been fun if I could have gotten a flow. Lots of riders pulled over to let me by. There was a guy on a ss hardtail that I followed for a long while. He was fast, but I knew I had to pass him eventually. I got by him toward the bottom. My arms were fried. My brakes were fading. I was two-finger braking. I never felt really sketchy, just a little. We came to the gates at the bottom of Motorway, and a WS member lifted my bike over the first. When I lifted my bike over the second and stepped over, my legs felt so bad. I rolled down to the aid station. It looked like mild pandemonium. Riders and bags everywhere. I saw Andy step up and take my picture. I said hi, asked him the time (8:10) and kept riding.
At this point, the dreaded Maple Springs climb was my next obstacle. Allison was right in front of me, and Justin was right there too. I tried to eat a part of my Uncrustables and kept riding. I was alternating between HEED, water, and occasionally, Perpetuem for liquids. Pretty soon, the Manns were way ahead, and I lost sight of them. This turned out to be a very dark time for me. My left lower back was having a jabbing pain. I couldn’t feel my feet (I had lost my left toe cover somewhere on Blackstar). I kept going up the pavement in my granny gear. I considered going back to the aid station. I thought of quitting and was in pretty bad spirits. I got passed by a lot of people. Finally, for the first time in the ride, I got off my bike and walked. My back instantly thanked me. My feet finally started to get some circulation. I came to a switchback by a creek-crossing and got back on the bike. I knew that if I could just make it to the dirt, I would be okay. Pretty soon, Luke passed me. We chatted for a second or two, and he slowly pulled away. I could see him out ahead for a long time, and very gradually I lost sight of him toward the top of Maple. Rachel aka Wrecker also caught up to me, though I had passed her on Motorway. I had the same few guys out ahead of me for much of the climb, but mostly, I felt pretty much alone.
Finally, I broke through the clouds and could see the ridge up above, knowing that Main Divide was up there. I felt hopeful. I had made it through the darkest time. The sun was out, and I started to see pine trees. I was energized. I tried to pedal mostly in my middle-3rd gear, but my left leg wouldn’t allow mashing any hard gear. I backed off. After what seemed like forever, I made it to 4 corners. I kept right on rolling through. From here, I pushed a nice gear most of the way to Modjeska Peak . I found a rhythm and was able to hold it most of the way. I knew that the first towers on Modjeska were only a prelude to Santiago , so I kept it all in stride. I was completely ignorant to the time or my overall progress, but I didn’t seem to care. The only thing that was really bothering me was my ass. My new saddle was hurting me, and I had to keep shifting to relieve the pressure. I rounded the corner at the top of Modjeska and there it was… Santiago with its long switchbacks and numerous towers. I knew the lure of the peak but also knew that looks were deceiving with Santiago . I was pleasantly surprised by a nice down-sloping section and put it in my big ring and hammered across, trying to “make up” time. I passed a couple guys walking and remembered to eat a bit. I was really enjoying the scenery since it was all new to me. I was soaking it in. By this point, I was rocking out to my iPod and was in pretty good spirits. I enjoyed a brief tailwind going up the peak, but as I rounded the next switchback, I was slapped with a headwind in return. I had to get off and walk for a minute or so to stretch my legs but I got back on pretty quickly. Finally, finally I made it to the descent. There were a couple guys resting on the ground eating snacks, and I wanted to join them but kept going. I ate the other half of my Uncrustables, took some Endurolytes, and made it cautiously down to Upper Holy Jim.
At UHJ, I stopped to drop my saddle a bit. Got going quickly, knowing that the clock was ticking. I had, quite possible, the best ride down UHJ, ever. The WS had done a fabulous job making the trail very rideable, and I cleaned almost every switchback. A few guys pulled over to let me by, mentioning that I seemed to be going fast. I had also put my fork up to 130, which helped slacken it out a bit and take the bumps better. I had a moment of sadness realizing that if I was doing Counting Coup, I’d be almost done. I got to the bottom of UHJ and with my lowered seat, struggled over to Holy Jim. I walked down the entrance (even though it was cleaned up a bit and I could have ridden it, just maybe not today). The photographer was there, capturing every exciting step! A rider behind me tried to ride down it and ended up shooting off the trail, but he saved it. I went ahead, and then had to walk up that stupid little climb at the beginning. The rider behind me (I’ll call him XC guy) went ahead. Very quickly, though, I caught up to him. There was a lot of traffic on HJ today…hikers, other bikers, even a group of Boy Scouts (wondering why anyone, seeing the vast number of riders coming down the trail with number plates on, would’ve kept going up the trail…you know, it is SoCal, where a lot of people seem clueless about obvious things!) I passed Rachel again (she had crashed on Motorway and was taking it easy on the descent). Compared to the last time I rode down HJ, this time was nearly perfect. I was going pretty fast, flowing the trail, making all the trick, techy parts. I kept my XC guy ahead of me, in my sights, the whole time, which helped on the switchbacks. I tipped over again in the same switchback as last time, and wasn’t hurt, just floundering around.
Then, it was time for the water-crossings. I walked across the first one. And the second one. By the third and fourth, I rode across as much as I could to try to save time. My left foot got soaked, then my right. HJ was a blast, though, and I was making up a lot of time (the Yeti turned out to be a blessing because I could take bigger hits with confidence and ride faster down the technical). I felt like I was flying, in the true sense of the word. I felt like I was experiencing mountain biking, in its purest, most amazing form. Bliss. At the last water-crossing I saw Hugh and a box of Uncrustables on the ground. He took my picture and asked if I wanted one. I declined, saying I had one so to save it for someone else. Before I knew it, I was at the parking lot and Aid Station #2. I just happened to see Justin pulling away from the station and yelled his name twice. He didn’t respond. I finally yelled “Bucky!!” He turned around and motioned for me to follow him. I yelled that I needed water. There was some confusion because a WS volunteer steered me left (so I could get water), but I just wanted to know the time. I shouted, “Am I on time?” Someone reminded me, in my foggy state, that yes I seemed to be on time but that would be determined at the bottom of WHT (the actual cutoff). “XC guy” graciously helped me get some water (thank you so much), and I stopped to refill my pill packet and eat another Uncrustables.
I knew that the worst of it was behind me. I knew Allison & Justin were not too far ahead, and I felt an odd calm. On one of our training rides, we followed this route (up Trabuco, then WHT). I had had a terrible time of it, walking about 80% of the way. Strangely, as I started to retrace our route, I knew I would be fine. There were many of the pro riders coming back down Trabuco (they were finishing), namely Leslie and Pua. I said hi to both and was glad to see them. Many of the guys did nothing to yield the trail. When I was able to, I pulled off if I saw them in time, but there were some close calls. Funny how trail etiquette meant very little to many of these folks. I walked a few short sections of Trabuco but rode about 90% of it. I was stoked. I came up to the cutoff and yelled out, “Did I make it?!” The WS volunteer said that yes, I did, with about 25 minutes to spare. I was elated! I knew that the rest was going to be fine. I had made it. I came up the trail a few dozen feet and saw Allison & Justin standing there, waiting for me, and taking my picture. We all hugged and shed a few tears. I was so happy to have make it there and found them.
Our celebration was brief, though, as we knew the HAB from hell was upon us. I tried to focus on just moving forward, and that helped. I only stopped twice. I ended up chatting the whole way up with Ernie, a triathlete from Temecula. A & J were just slightly ahead, and Rachel caught up. She must have been rocking up the climbs! Ernie and I passed the time by telling lots of stories. Before I knew it, we were at the top and reaching the station at the top of WHT. I passed on the offer for a burger, but slurped down two cups of Cytomax and ate a piece of a Clif bar. A & J had kept going, but I had a sense I’d see them again. I tried to keep a good pace over to Trabuco, and about halfway there, I saw the Manns again. They towed me up to Trabuco, and I gave a good sigh of relief…all the climbing was over. We still had the technical descents of the trail ahead, and I had been slightly concerned about my energy level…would I be fresh enough to make it safely down the trail? Turned out that yes, I was super fresh indeed. I railed down Trabuco and had a great time of it. I felt so strong, so confident. In fact, it turned out that yes, I finished my ride much stronger than I had started it. I went ahead of A & J and just ripped down the trail. I sustained my only injury of the day, though. A pretty big rock (baseball-softball sized) got kicked up by my front wheel and spun backward, only to tag me hard in the left shin. Ouchie!! Got down to the bottom of Trabuco and waited for the Manns. We lifted our bikes over the gate and then, the race down the road was on!! We saw Gene at the bottom of HJ (turns out he had flatted), and he quickly distanced us.
I was surprised at the terrible shape of Trabuco Creek Road . Big holes, mud bogs, and deep creek crossings were everywhere. It felt like being on the worst road in a foreign country. I knew the road was 4 miles long, but it seemed never-ending. I was riding really strong for the first half, but by the second half, I was fading. The Manns and Ernie put a little gap on me, but I kept going until the finish. Final time was about 8:47, far under the 9:30 I had wanted to get. It was all kind of a blur. I was smiling and so happy to be done. Strangely, though, I didn’t feel entirely drained (maybe I still had something left?). I immediately looked for Dan, and there he was…smiling and waiting for me. He kicked ass and finished about an hour ahead of us…what an animal!! We all hugged, got our pictures taken, and chilled with Ann & Andy, Heather & Andy, Jeff, Jordan , etc. and sipped on some beer. Everyone took such good care of us…I was so touched.
The Post-Event
We decided to ride back to O’Neill to get food and a ride back to the truck/car. My left hip flexor, left knee, and the tops of both hamstrings were in pretty bad shape, but I made it over pretty quickly. We got a couple bites of chicken, rice, beans, and tortillas before I had to load up and get a ride back to the vehicles. Justin and I went, while Allison & Dan stayed behind to eat and try to stay warm. My feet were so wet and cold!! Regina gave us and about 5 other folks a ride to Blackstar. We got in the truck and drove to Cook’s where Dan and I had parked early in the morning. I put the heat on blast and zoomed back to deliver dry clothes to Dan. I quickly changed and warmed up and went back for more food. I brought out the brownies I had made, and they were gone in a flash!! We spent a long while chatting and hanging with the STR posse, our friends, and comrades.
Dan and I at the post-race shindig, gettin' our grub on!
What will the next adventure be? What will be the next goal? Of course there has to be a “next”…there will always be a “next”. I will ponder my feather. I will let my spirit guide me.
