Mohican 100 - 2009

You know, I trained into the early spring for this race only to succumb to the pressures of life and slowly give up my season with the reasoning I needed time of the bike. I had no real reason to get off that thing except that I was slowly falling away from a sport I had done on and off for more than ½ my life. In early January I pre-entered the race with aspirations of a top 10 in the 100 mile event. By spring I was going to be lucky to get a top 10 in the 100k event.

One week before the race I decided maybe I shouldn’t even show up, just skip it and loose my entry. For some odd reason I decided to go down the night before and change my entry to the 100k on the single speed. It was going to suck because I hadn’t ridden more than 3 hours all spring and here I was entering a race that lasted 6 hours.



Photo by Aaron Holmes

I showed up with a stomach full of butterflies and enough doubt to make even Thomas look like the most optimistic and faithful. On the ride to the starting line I opened my mouth and inserted my foot pretty far down my throat to choke on it. I was riding with another rider and we were talking about proficiencies in racing and such when I mentioned that there were too many category 4 racers that need to move to category 3 and quit posing around the 4 field for 10 years or more. Seems like one of the guys had been a cat 4 for many many years and found my comment a little offensive - DOH!!

I milled around the start area for a little bit before the race and tried to get myself pumped up and catch up with all the latest BS from the guys I hadn’t seen all spring. It was time to line up and it was announced there would be a prime for the 1ft person to reach the city limits sign but the catch was, you had to finish the race to cash in on the $100 prize.

With a $100 prime on the line the start was extremely fast and with hundreds of riders vying for position and some for cash, things got hectic. Being on a single speed it was tough at 1st until the road turned upwards and the gear heads started downshifting and the single speeders moved through the pack passing those with poor climbing abilities.

By the time we hit the woods the trail was one long massive constipated snake going no where fast. People were in single file waiting for everyone in front to bust a move so I decided to ride around them and risk hitting a rock or stump hidden in the weeds. It worked out pretty well as I was moving forward by leaps and bounds. By the time we entered the state park section of the trail I was in the company of some fairly competent and fast riders going at a satisfactory pace. Following them would keep me from burning myself up before the end. When we reached what the locals call Mt. Doom the riders in front slowly started to drop like flies. By the time we reached the top there were only two left, Betsy Shogren and someone from team Lake Effect. The Lake Effect guy pulled off and I passed Betsy while passing through check point one.

More miles of sweeping fast single track and one hell of a hike a bike. Under normal hiking conditions this hill was more or less tamable by even the most out of shape hiker. Add a 25+ pound bicycle to the ascension and you go no where fast. The guy in front of you is only 10 yards away but by the time you reach the top he already has a 1/8 mile of single track between the two of you.

The trails finally give way to a short pavement section and some gravel roads that link you to the next section of single track. I caught up to Wes Jones of Soup Can Racing and was riding with him for a while. He seemed a little pissed for some reason and I wasn’t sure why. Found out later he was mad because I didn’t acknowledge him when I passed him on the trail earlier. I never saw their new team kits before so I figured it was just another schmuck in the race. On one of the hills the pace was getting low enough I had to start cranking or succumb to someone else’s cadence and suffer. Wes once again got upset because he thought I was attacking him and trying to drop him. I just didn’t want to pedal that slow and not having another gear to select, I had to go faster.

I entered the next section of single track with a couple riders hot on my tail. I kept them at bay for a while but I was riding at a pace I didn’t want to burn up at so I backed off and let them pass. It was Betsy! We rolled into check point 3 where the 100k and 100 mile separate, I grabbed a PBJ and Mt Dew and kept on rolling. Betsy took the 100 mile route and I took the sissy 100k. She went on to win the women’s 100 miler. When I left the split I never saw another bike until I reached the state park again. I entered the woods and came to a section bannered off. I knew Lorsen was ahead of me and couldn’t figure out where he went. I spent the better part of 10 minutes looking for the right trail and decided to go back to the entrance where people were yelling the signing was wrong and pointed the right way.

It was almost too late as the 3rd single speed, Wes Jones, was coming at me at full throttle. We hit the woods and started what would be a 6 mile battle at efforts well above what one would expect at a shorter race. My legs were cramping bad and the pain was getting annoying as was the fact I could barely bend them any more and I had to peg leg one climb that was too steep to pedal. On the downhill grades I would see Wes gaining on me only to drop him again on the next climb. After many burned turns and near misses with trees, rocks and logs the trail dropped out onto a gravel road. All I could do was spin as fast as possible knowing Wes’ bike was geared taller than mine. I spent what would be the last ½ mile spinning with one leg as my left quad was seized tighter than a rusty bolt on Chevette.

After I crossed the finish line I rolled up to Trek Rep. Bob Myers and dropped my bike. I couldn’t lift my leg to get off so I had to lay it down and walk away. In the end I was surprised to find out I did indeed finish 2nd and 11th overall. I won $100 which gave me a net profit of $1 after deducting the $99 entry.

I was surprised that I was able to do that well in a race that I hadn’t even trained for. Maybe next year I will get my head out of my ass and make the big show and try to beat Betsy. It’s a long shot but who knows, maybe I can beat her, if she gets a flat or two, or three…

Chasing Ghosts - Part 1

Tim and I headed to Mohican after work Tuesday for a spin on the mountain bike course. I had a feeling he was too tired from his big ride the past weekend at TOSRV but telling Tim he’s tired is like telling a child it’s bed time, he just wasn’t hearing it!

Luckily I was able to talk him into riding a geared bike while I rode the single speed. I figured with his lack of good rest, it’d be a decent match up. By the 12 mile mark Tim was getting further and further off the back so when we got to the covered bridge I took a picture and when he got there pretty much demanded he take it easy for a while and ride the road for the next section, get a lead on me and I’d catch up.

He reluctantly went up the road as I headed up Mt. Doom, the chase was on, or so I thought. I reached the parking area at the top of the hill and Tim had moved on so I started chasing at above race pace in hopes of getting a break when I caught up. I chased and chased and was riding over my head but when the next road crossing came and still no Tim I started thinking “He’s flying to try and stay ahead”.

I started the last 4 miles hammering away going too fast when I shouldn’t have and almost paying for it a couple times. I hit a rock garden at almost twice the speed I normally would and the impacts shook me and the bike so hard all the accumulated sweat in my skid lid got squeegeed out all over me and in my eyes making the rest of the rock garden a blinding out of control blur. There was so much sweat I thought it had started to downpour. I also got a little too close to a tree and it reached out and grabbed me by the shirt sleeve for running over its roots cutting a nice 3” slice through the jersey and the base layer and thankfully not me. It had a good enough grip to almost rip my hand off the bars.

Still no Tim. I kept looking over the hillsides down the switchbacks looking for signs of movement and the sounds of a chain slapping the frame but there was nothing but birds and deer. Just as I made the final 100 meters of trail I saw Tim crossing the bridge into the campground, perfect timing! Or so I thought.

“So much for riding slow so I could catch up eh”? All he did was laugh, and then he let the cat out of the bag. He had gone up the road but at the top there is a short trail that cuts from the road over to the parking lot. Tim took that trail and thought he could come back down the road a hundred meters or so and do the trail again before I got there. When he came back through the lot a 2nd time a couple guys asked him if he was looking for a guy in red on a single speed and if he was, he just went flying by! So here I am chasing Tim and he’s behind me!! He had done the fire tower to the next road then skipped the next section due to the fact he knew I was at full throttle and he finally had to admit he was flat out tired. He rode back on the pavement and the and headed back up the trail backwards and when he heard me crashing though the woods, turned around to make it look like he had just beat me back!!

When we crossed under Rt. 3 I headed off into the Wolholding River to splash some water on me. I told him to go grab the camera and I’d video him cross the creek. He said “NO, we’re going home!” So much for getting Tim to take another bath!

Splish splash Tim takes a bath!!

Yesterdays duathlon left me semi paralyzed from my insulated 4 pack down so Tim and I went on a recovery ride this evening to spin the legs out and maybe get some blood flowing.

The ride was uneventful until we came back into town. The bridge on the Sippo Trail was burnt down by local dysfunctional juvenile derelicts so we went over the side and crossed the wooden ties laid acros the water at the bottom. I rode across and watched Tim make an effort but before he started I predicted an 80% chance of wet. He chickened out and walked.

We ended up riding down the creek on the gravely bars and beds crossing back and forth to the highest ground making our way back to town. Each time we’d cross the water got deeper and the last crossing was the deepest. I made my way across getting both feet wet and was just getting off the bike to wait on Tim when I heard two very distinct sounds but separate sounds that were merged together. It sounded something like OHFUUUSPLASH. I couldn’t get turned around in time and when I did all I saw was a head, an arm and part of a leg clipped into a pair of spd pedals, the rest was water and a few bike parts!! Luckily for Tim, I could stop laughing long enough to get the camera phone out!! The last mile home was wet as predicted.

Suposedly in France Bonifant means good water. So Mr Bonifant, how was the water?

Hinkley Buzzard Duathlon and Biathlon

In the words of Josh McClay “Holy Hanna”!! I was afraid I might be getting in over my head and this week hasn’t been the greatest as far as getting rest and prepping myself for a race I‘d never done before. We were supposed to leave at 7am but Josh called at 6:30 to tell me he was ready, damn early birds. Turra was worried about me using running shoes on BMX pedals instead of changing into cycling shoes. With 2 transitions back and forth and the bike only being 15 miles, there wasn’t much to worry about, I thought. Like any hard workout I try to weigh myself before and after to gage water loss. Damn!! I’m 3 pounds too light for Clydesdale (200+) so I’m racing with the mid-life crisis old guys.

We arrived on time, registered and took a lap by bike and the 1st thing I found out, the course was hilly! There wasn’t a flat spot to be found except for a hundred yards every now and then. The warm up run proved that my legs were in fact still dead from the Wednesday night ride. To make things uglier for me was the fact some sadist placed the start line at the base of the longest hill. The course was 1 lap run, 5 lap bike, 1 lap run unless you were doing the biathlon which you didn’t do the 2nd run. (wimps) I racked my bike with a spare tube, Co2 and a little snack,… time to get my butt kicked.

Run 1 - The passive side beat down the aggressive side and I started mid to back of the pack so I wouldn’t get run over by faster runners but not have to pass stragglers. It didn’t work as I was tripping and stumbling around trying to pass people who were slower. By the time I crested the hill there were runners strung out for hundreds of yards. I have a little of Moto Dog in me and when I see something moving, I chase it. (competitors, not groundhogs!) mixed in with the group were people wearing cycling specific team jerseys so I fixated myself on them and used them as rabbits to motivate me. It worked pretty well and by the end of the run I had made some decent progress but was worried I’d burned one too many matches getting there catching a Stark Velo and a couple Snake Bites along the way.

The Bike - More like push a bike as you can’t ride your bike inside the transition area. My set up was simple, flip the brain bucket on (yes I have a little left to protect) and stuffed my pockets, snatched the bike and ran cyclocrossed onto it and realized “NO RIDING IN TRANSITION”!! Shit, jump off run out of the area and a little extra for good measure to brown nose the officials and remounted.

The last thing I wanted to do was blow up so I eased into this leg only to have a couple guys on full blown tri bikes pass me right out of the gates. Luckily for me these guys can’t climb hills worth a damn on their sport specific bikes and I easily re-passed them long before the top then let my heart rate settle in before hitting it hard. In a time trail you pace yourself to bonk or blow chunks as you cross the finish line but here I had to save energy for run 2. This was going to be hard to gage since I’d never done one of these before. I did the same thing as on the run making forward progress picking off every bike I could see. A few times guys would re-catch me on the easy stuff but as soon as we hit the harder hills they dropped off like they had the brakes on.

The course was 4 cornered so I treated the course like a criterium and dove into them as hard as I could without killing anyone or myself. The downhill 90 was the best for passing as everyone hit the brakes early. I melted my pads trying to get stopped passing 2 and 3 people while braking and nearly wiping the safety cones out each lap. The aggressive riding was taking it’s toll and I had to coast a short bit and stretch my back before it seized. I caught and passed 3 of my friends who do this stuff all the time so I was feeling good but worried about how many were burned that I would need later. At the end of the 5th lap I was so anxious to get the 2nd run over with I turn onto the bike path by mistake where the runners go for transition, DAMN!!! I slammed the brakes on and swerved into the grass, across the gravel berm and back onto the road before too many people could get a good laugh at me.

Run 2 - Now I know why triathletes come to a stop when dismounting, holy cow I had gummy legs!! I jumped off at speed like in a ‘cross race and just about bit it. Luckily my rack was at the far end so was able to use the bike to steady me while running. I racked the bike and tried to run doing my best impersonation of a drunken runner. I guess the fun was over as the final run was boring as as a political debate and I only saw two people the whole time. All the bikes that I had been gaining on in the last two straights were only doing the biathlon and didn’t have to run again, wimps!! (I wish I had been a wimp) ½ way into the final run 2 guys behind me slowly reeled me in and one got by. Luckily he was in a different age group, woohoo!! I didn’t think that finish line would ever come into sight and when it did I was trying my best not to let the 2nd guy catch me. To my surprise they handed me a medal when I crossed the line and it took me a few minutes to figure out I placed 3rd in my age group and of course I immediately wondered if there were only 3 of us entered! I finished in about 1:25, 15 minutes faster than Turra predicted and about a day and half sooner than my own prediction.

The finish line was cool, a whole box of donuts were waiting there for me!! Josh came in about 10 minutes later and when I offered him one he turned white and looked like death warmed over. I forgot he doesn’t do well with the thoughts of food after a big work out, sorry Josh! I got harassed by my friends for using running shoes on the bike but it was from all the guys I had passed! We grabbed our bikes and did a warm down and to my mistake, forgot to check my computer to see my bike split which was worthless as I forgot to start my stopwatch too. Lets see if I can get rested up before Saturday’s 100 mile time trial.

OCC Sufferama

If having my legs ripped off by Scott wasn't bad enough, I went against better judgement and went to the Orrville Cycling Club Team ride last night.

The ride started ok with me feeling not so ok. Part way through I felt like I might be coming to life. About 3/4 of the way through I somehow managed to out sprint Big Dave for a green sign. A few miles later I was at the front taking my turn pulling. I had been keeping them shorter than usual due to my lack of confifdence in my fitness.

Then it happened. While at the front I was thinking about the pain in my back and my legs. I felt like I was burrying myself for the satisfaction of going fast and getting a work out. It didn't take long to make up my mind and I pulled off to the left, way off. I sat up and just left them go trying to decide if this is really what I want to do.

I've pretty much decided that this year is going to be my year to say screw bicycle racing and just ride for fun.

Maybe next year.

Michael Challenge

I really would like to do a few races this year that require endurance. I’ve been trying to ride long on the weekends and it has been slowly kicking my butt. The 1st attemp was following Scott Luikart where he pretty much destroyed Mark Sclater and I in only 65 miles.

The 2nd attempt was last weekend where I tried to do a hilly Atwood Lake ride on the single speed. Everything went fine until I climbed New Cumberland hill. I didn’t think you could pedal that slow and not fall over. 71 miles later, I finished not feeling too bad.

Today was a totally different story though. The 1st week was Scott killing me, last week the hills, this week it was Mother nature and her blowhard ways. The day started off bad from the beginning as my chain kinked a ½ mile from home. I could have fixed it but went home and replaced it instead. Now I am late and hauling but trying tog et to Bolivar by 9am. Made it on time and headed south with the group. I haven’t spent that much time fighting winds in a long time. The trip down south was pretty spirited as Bob D and Mike took pulls in the high 20’s and sometimes 30mph. I only took my pulls at 25mph and for a good reason. The tail wind we were enjoying was going to turn into the devils breath on the way back.

We left Newcomerstown and headed north and just as suspected, it was a sufferama. I pulled as long and often as I could to build on my endurance hoping for 2 things, workout and keep the cooking so we weren‘t out there all day. The plan almost backfired as 2 of the riders joining me started to hit the wall with 10 miles to their cars. Luckily we were near where I wanted to split off so Chuck waited for the stragglers while I headed home.

I could feel the energy slowly leaving me and the miles started to take longer and longer. I tried to think about racing the KTM but that only made me pedal faster and make things worse. For some reason when I think about racing the motorcycle I get a little tense or hyper depending on what I am doing.

Strasburg, 15 miles to go, 4 climbs along the way, I praying for a limping truck I can draft, no luck, they’re all flying. 10 miles to go, I’m in Stark County and climbing the longest climb before home. The hill is blocking the wind so it is easier than the open flats, still sucks. I’m finally over the 3rd hill, thank God I didn’t ride the single speed!!

Things are looking grim. I keep reaching for my phone but resist the urge. I opt out for the towpath trail and bypass the final climb up Warmington. My legs are cramped, my butt is burning, my back and kidney area aches, still 3 miles to go. Praying for rednecks on 4 wheelers to shot me and stop the misery. I finish off my 4th water bottle and 4th granola bar and 2nd goo pack was downed a few miles ago. ARGH, I forgot by going this was I still had to climb both sections of Walnut!!

97 miles and I finally reach the garage but I am afraid to unclip thinking my leg would collapse upon standing. All goes well and I am able to collapse in the bathtub where I slept for a ½ hour.