At 5:15 am we were all standing with our bikes on 6th Street. The cool air felt amazing and the stars lit up the sky. Once we placed our bikes in the starting corral, we went back to the house to get our kits on and grab anything and everything we would be needing for the ride. This was a tense moment for me. So much to remember. I must have run through my list ten times. I finally decided I had enough and went into the den to wait for my fellow Leadville brothers. We arrived back onto 6th street at 6:00 am, thirty minutes to the start. The size of the crowd had grown to almost 1500 riders. Walking through the corral and down to our bikes was like walking across a frozen lake full of cracks. There were bikes laying on their sides everywhere. The last thing I wanted was to end someones race before it started by stepping on their wheel and braking some spokes. After 10 minutes of squeezing through and stepping over I arrived at my bike. I snapped on my bike computer and through my leg over the top tube. The sun was just beginning to rise. The line of riders was further than the eye could see, family and friends lined the street 3 deep. Words of encouragement being shouted,camera shutters snapping. My race would start all the way in the back in what they called the "First Timers" corral. The race director came over the loud speaker and gave us the five minute announcement. I turned around to Douche and we gave each other a "let's do this" look. At precisely 6:30 am the shotgun went off. Six months of anticipation and four months of training were over, I crossed the start/finish line at 6:32 am and clicked the start button on my computer. I was on my way.
The first 3-4 miles of the ride take place on pavement. This is probably the most dangerous and nerve racking portion of the entire ride. You have all 2000 riders going as hard as they can to try and improve their positions before the narrow gravel road begins. I kept my pace high and consistent with the riders around me. I've ridden in plenty of group rides where bars are inches apart, but this was different. It was almost mayhem. I looked off into the distance and saw a massive dust cloud rising into the air, I knew the dirt/gravel road was close. A quick left turn over the tracks and then an even quicker right turn threw us onto the gravel/dirt road. The pace immediately went from fast to a dead crawl. 2000 riders maneuvering themselves onto a road no wider than a single lane of traffic. The trail was anything but smooth, the outer edges lined with stones. I picked a line and held my pace, I was also trying to use this slow time to get my heart rate under control. The mad dash from the start had my ticker kicking higher than I wanted. About 1/4 mile into the road, the pace found a nice median and the riders all began to settle in. The ground was thick with dust, almost like riding through a layer of sand. It was cold, at one point we dropped down into a valley and my computer read 38 degrees. The fog was hovering across the valley, it was beautiful. I was extremely happy to have made it through this first nerve racking section, but I knew the first big obstacle of the day lay just ahead.
St. Kevins
I was more nervous about this section of the course than any other. It hits you very early in the race while your legs are barely awake. The pace was still very slow as the climb began, I felt like a sardine slammed bar to bar against other riders. The road on St. Kevins in not the best, it is rocky and washed out in spots. As the grade steepened, I picked a line on the right side and focused on my cadence. About halfway up, the rider in front of me fell, not what I needed. I had to stop. I began to push up the hill trying to find a good spot to remount. Once I did, it was like trying to enter the autobahn from a dead stop. I finally got remounted and on my way. My legs were definitely awake when I reached the top of the climb. I was a little gassed, but felt okay.
After a little bit of trail riding, I reached the asphalt. This was a really cool section of the course, It would take me to my next obstacle, Sugar loaf Pass. The road was in great shape and the first part was downhill and super fast. I wanted to keep my pace up, but I also wanted to use this time recover from Kevins. I was able to hook up with a few other riders and we shared the workload. This section of the course was beautiful, the sun was up and the temperature was perfect. I was surrounded by mountains. I couldn't help but take a moment to take it all in.
Sugarloaf
A 180 degree left turn threw me onto the Sugarloaf climb. Once again, the nice road gave way to a narrow and rocky trail. The climb never got severe, but the road condition was tough. I probably went to cautious on this section, but I did not want a flat or some other mechanical issue and this section was taking riders out left and right. By the time I reached Sugarloaf, the pack had really spread out and that helped my nerves. I stomped out a more consistent cadence on this climb. Once over the top, the course became really fun, a lot of downhill with some fun speed bumps, is what I would call them. My focus shifted from the pain in my legs to the tricky trail. If I remember correctly, at this point in the race I was around 18-20 miles in and headed for the famous Powerline descent.
Powerline
If the road to Sugarloaf was the most beautiful section of the course, the Powerline descent was certainly the coolest. This is not an easy descent. They even told us in the riders meeting to keep it cool, no sense in trying to be Evil Knievel. One misstep here and your bike could be trashed and your ass in a hospital bed. Powerline is the first part of the course where a lot of spectators gather. It was really cool to have random strangers waving cowbells and yelling out encouragement. Obviously the spectators didn't know my name, so they would yell out my number. The main objective of this section is keep your speed under control and watch your lines. The ruts here will take you out quickly. Halfway down and I was doing great.
I survived Powerline unscathed. My spirits were high, but they were about to get a big boost. Once down, the trail winds around for a bit, pretty flat, then you hit a small uphill that leads to another paved road. I remembered this section after seeing it in the Race Across the Sky video. As I made the turn I heard someone yell my name, it was Kimberly. This was the first time I had seen her since she arrived in Colorado. She was standing with Kate, Russ & Peter.
I think she actually took this picture before she yelled my name.
I was pretty excited as you can tell. A few words were exchanged in passing and I was on my way. About a mile up the road Russ and Peter drove by me and asked if I needed anything, I simply asked how much further to the first aid stop. They told me a few more miles and they took off. Right behind them was Kimberly and Kate, Kim snapped this photo. I love the mountains in the background.
In all the excitement of seeing everyone, I made a critical mistake. I was alone on the paved road. I should have sat up and waited for a large group so we could take turns in a pace line. Instead, I went at it alone. There was a pretty descent headwind, then crosswind. I used up a lot of energy on this section. Lesson learned.
I pulled into the pipeline aid station at just under three hours. It was packed. The families and spectators were cheering for every rider. My coach Ben (LadyKiller) had told me the day before exactly where he would be. As I crossed the timing mat he was right there, I pulled over and quickly hoped off the bike. Ben told me I was doing good. I removed my jacket and arm warmers, got two fresh bottles and was on my way. As I pulled off I began to calculate the time in my head. The first cut-off was at mile 40, Twin Lakes. You have to make it there by 10:30 or your race is over. I had about an hour and fifteen minutes... I was cutting it close, really close.
The course between Pipeline aid station and Twin Lakes is pretty straightforward. A few climbs and a lot of jeep road. I told myself not to look at the time, but to keep my head down and go hard. Once again, I was all alone. At mile 35 I caught a group of riders on a climb. While riding together I overheard one of them say the time, 10:00. I had 30 minutes to make it the five miles. I wasn't loosing time, but I wasn't making any either. I started to get freaked. At mile 38 I saw an amazing but frustrating site, the leaders. That's right, they had already made the 50 mile turnaround and were on the way home. Another confirmation that I better get my ass moving.
Off the jeep road and back onto the pavement. I was close. I began to see volunteers directing us where to go. I pulled up next to another rider and he yelled out "We've got 5 minutes, were gonna make it", my heart skipped a beat. The paved road headed straight downhill. I went as hard as I could go, I even got into one of those cool positions you see the guys in the Tour D' France get into when they are descending. I don't know if it helped, but it felt cool. I reached the bottom of the hill and made the hard left turn onto the Twin Lakes Levee. I was moving, my heart rate was red lined. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a familiar face, it was Kimberly. "Move Your Ass" was all I heard. In the blink of an eye she was gone. The levee road was packed with thousands of spectators. Every few seconds I would hear, "You've got two minutes, only a half mile left". My legs were on fire and my chest was pounding. I couldn't miss this checkpoint, no way. I peddled like I had never peddled before, I could see the black arch of the checkpoint in the distance. "You can do it 2086", "Dig Deep", The closer I got the louder the screams, it was surreal. "Dig Deep 2086", "Go hard, Go Hard".......
