Front Squish, 34x22
Front: Schwalbe Racing Ralph 2.4, 32 psi
Rear: Maxxis Ikon 3C/EXO/TR 2.2, 35 psi
Creek Conditions: Mid thigh deepTrail Conditions: [Groan]
Prelude:
Coming off of a 14-week Wednesday night class that had an attendance requirement, I agreed to a week vacation at Disney/beach (Jekyll Island, GA it turns out). The week after was the NC Eastern Biological Wastewater Operators School, of which I'm the coordinator. If there is one thing in my job that I want to run absolutely seamless, it's the Eastern School. Mainly this is due to numerous employees of various clients attending the school, in addition to the fact that I'm fairly anal retentive and want things to be in order. Over the last four years, PMBAR has landed on the weekend following the week-long Eastern School. Needless to say, I usually show up at Davidson River Campground a little frazzled and this year I showed up having not ridden in over 2 weeks. Besides that, I pretty much fell off the workout bandwagon about 2 months ago and was hoping my positive outlook would carry me through.
Prerace Jitters:
Friday didn't get off to the best prerace start.
OK, let's get on to the excuses...
Tony and I agreed that we should take our time and read through the passport to verify there weren't any crazy rules to be adhered to. After that verification, we set out with Tony immediately commenting that I looked stronger on the singlespeed than he anticipated. Naturally I overheated in my rain jacket within 15 minutes of our start. I waved the geared and spinning Tony by as I struggled to get my sweat-soaked brand new Endura Helium jacket peeled off of me. As I finally got that accomplished, a line of approximately 30 riders came by who obviously spent more time reading the passport, causing worry.
I got going again and wished I also had taken off my skull cap, but screw it. I needed to catch up with Tony. I got to the top of the climb and found no Tony. I got to Pressley Gap and found no Tony. I did see James. After double checking all the number plates for Tony, I continued on up Black hoping that Tony had decided to put in the strong climb and wait for the singlespeeder to catch up. I got to the Turkey Pen intersection and again checked all the number plates. OK, this is odd. Consensus is that I'm the better navigator (and descender) but I didn't expect Tony to keep going past this point, if not any of the others. He'll wait for me at the overlook because surely the sketchy downhill terrain after that will be the clue to wait. The overlook contained no Tony.
At this point I had started asking every oncoming team (Why the hell were they doing out and backs? Is there something I missed in the passport?) if they had seen a tall dude on gears in a red jacket. I was going through all the emotions: anger, disgust, frustration, worry, etc. about being separated from my partner. I was certain I was going to roll into my first checkpoint and pick up the DQ. I had decided to stop within site of the CP and wait 5 minutes for Tony (who I had obviously unknowingly passed). For the time being, I was trying to decide if I should continue PMBAR as a solo to see how well I'd hold up on the singlespeed in Pisgah for the first time, or if I should turn around and go back to Pressley Gap and wonder where Tony was.
I saw the tarp. I stopped. I pondered. I saw a lone bike near the CP tarp. I saw the gels taped to the top tube of the lone bike, just like Tony did a few hours before. I noticed the bike looked a lot like Tony's.
Tony said that someone in the 30 rider group was wearing a kit and riding a bike very similar to mine and that he was working hard to catch up and that he had only been at the CP about 5 minutes. After we vowed to not get separated again, we continued on to Squirrel.
Squirrel was non-eventful and I was feeling strong the whole way through that checkpoint and on to Bradley Creek CP, where we filtered. I made the comment that as long as the creek crossings were knee level and below, we'd be fine.
The first crossing was about half way up my quads.
Tony was suspicious that I wasn't eating enough and insisted that we stop to filter more water at the end of Bradley. He was right. I went with liquid nutrition this year, but Bradley doesn't give too many opportunities to grab a bottle. As we topped off bottles, James and Jay came around the corner working the opposite direction. Bradley Creek is a little tricky to find and the most humorous part of the whole race was being able to point James in the right direction. I have relentlessly picked on James for following other riders instead of navigating on his own 4 years ago, enough that some of our friends think that we hate each other. So fitting to help him navigate this year now that he lives on the West Coast. James let us know there were grilled cheese sandwiches and ice cold Cokes at the top of the climb, which was incentive enough for me to drop Tony and go get some.
After the grilled cheese and Coke, things got pretty crappy. I put the brand new Endura Helium jacket back on and we started climbing Laurel Mt. The conditions were so poor, I was afraid I'd snap the Thomson carbon All-Mtn bar as I was pulling back on it so hard to get my rear Ikon 2.2 to bite in. It was easier to climb technical terrain than that slop. I wished we had followed James and gone the opposite way.
We were committed to doing Laurel as an out and back for fear of killing ourselves trying to descend a wet Pilot while tired. More grilled cheese and Coke followed by a spin on 1206 to go pick up the last CP on Avery and finish.
(I read Kelly Klett's blog and saw the route they took seemed a lot better than what I'm about to describe.)
We picked up 476 > S Mills > Buckhorn and grinded through the slop to get to the top of Clawhammer. It sucked. When we reached the top, a couple other groups we had been yo-yo'ing with decided to bail, claiming that there was no way they could get Avery and get back to the Finish in 3 hours. Then they looked at us and said, "But I'm sure you guys can do it!"
Screw it and we took off.
Descending Avery at that point was a nightmare. We passed some poor souls pushing back up and realized they descended Pilot after leaving the Laurel CP just before us, but had obviously got at least a 30 minute jump on us by doing that. After getting our final CP, we kept descending Avery instead of trying to push back up. At this point I think the hypothermia was starting. I couldn't steer the bike well, and I started crashing. I bit it hard on a wood bridge and screamed out in pain as I ripped the brand new Endura Helium jacket. Tony was trying to get me to eat more, or work harder to get my heart rate up. I'm actually not real sure. I do know that all my joints and my quads hurt so bad from the cold and that I had eaten maybe 700 calories in the previous hour.
We started to climb Clawhammer at the Horse Stables. I was done. I couldn't get going. Tony turned around and asked what I wanted to do. I think I just said, "I just want it to end."
So we bailed for the DNF. The dirt and spray made me stop twice on the glide down. I tried to blink it out but couldn't. We pulled into the finish to claim our DNF about 5 minutes before James and Jay crossed the line. At first they thought we had beat them. Tony took his burrito and headed for the campsite. I decided to eat mine immediately. I think the blood all went to my core to digest, because I started shivering uncontrollably. I do mean uncontrollably because I had a hard time just steering the bike back to the campsite.
I pulled up to the campsite to find an RV parked there and my truck and all my belongings gone. Then I realized that I had made a wrong turn, disorientation was starting to set in, and I needed to get out of the wet clothes and into something warm.
I pulled up to the actual campsite to find Tony getting ready to go get a shower. He asked if I would watch his stuff and went off to wait for James to finish taking a long and luxurious hot shower. I had slept on a cot under a tarp the night prior and realized I was going to have to sleep in the truck with a semi-wet sleeping bag as a blanket. I got the sleeping bag in the truck and shed my ripped, used-to-be brand new Endura Helium jacket and Endura Hummvee jersey. I put on everything warm I could find -- sweatshirt, fleece jacket, rain jacket, and an emergency Mylar blanket. I stood under Tony's Honda Pilot hatch staring at a can of Pringles for 5 minutes before deciding that he wouldn't mind if I had some.
I managed to get a hot shower and didn't pass out or fall or anything en route to and from the showers. I did not sleep well and Tony and I met at Huddle House for breakfast the next morning. He stopped to put in his contacts at the bathroom and I continued on, causing each of us to relive our Black Mt experience all over again by wondering where the other was.
My truck smelled so bad and I gleefully rolled down all the windows in Hickory once I cleared out of the rain. Once I got home, I had to spill everything into the garage to dry out.
My finger tips were numb for days, presumably from pulling on the bars so hard. Can't wait for next year.
Overall, this was a positive test for the singlespeed. My legs felt fine all day until they got cold. I never cramped and the Maltrin/Elete combo didn't bother me at all. The Burn24 is coming up and that will be a test more on the mental side than the power/technical skill that Pisgah demands. At least I have until the end of July to get my fitness up to where it should be.
Things will probably change though, so screw it.
