After 6 months of anticipation, hesitation, and downright training, I successfully
completed my first 100 mile off-road bicycle race, the
2015 High Cascade 100
Michael Cooke, whom I met 3 or so years ago as he trained for his first HC100 in 2013, acted as both the instigator and my guide. For 3 years, the stories and lessons of his HC100 experience provided regular ride commentary and lessons as we rode together in the foggy hills of Oakland or on the brutal slopes of Pine Mountain in Marin. So eventually, as I regained lost skill and gained new confidence in my own riding, I had to try it.
I could gush on the 3 years of rides and support from my family, especially Barbara for keeping my Saturday am rides sacred, my riding buddies and friends and even a stable/sane job to make space for me to take up MTB again, but I will limit this post to the ride and add commentary. If you are reading this, I probably owe you a coffee, a tube, a ride or at least a big thank you for your patience and support.
Registration
Race number 332, HC100 Glass with a Bigfoot on it, HC100 socks also with Bigfoot,
tee-shirt and beer/meal tickets(got one for Barb).
Sharpie to the leg with a big letter V for "Veteran", even though I was a rookie, its what they
called those 40-49. Labelled so we can know who is ahead of us or just passed us.
Pre-Race Meeting
Organizer Mike stood up and called us over outside the registration room. He was bigger, younger and funnier than I imagined from the email posts running up to the race. His timing is better delivered live. Theme was DO NOT CRASH.
- 2-3 hours to get you out of some places, especially "Lava". My thought "What is Lava?"
- He suggested helicopter insurance, which is something I did't even know I could buy, to defray the $28-18k cost of getting lifted out
- MC hint "I buy it for the family/we give helicopter insurance as gifts."
- Highlight Stories of previous injuries people rode with after crashing
- Broken Neck from Tiddlywinks (10 miles)
- Collarbones from even further out
- Over 350 participants
- Prediction that 15% would not finish
- Prediction that at least 3 people would go to the hospital (of 378 starting)
- First 150 into the woods are racing for places, the rest are surviving
The Pre-Ride
MC had arrived in Bend a day earlier in Bend, and planned to ride Friday morning
to maximize recovery time before the race start. BUT he had the family with him and associated distraction and was still eating breakfast by the time Barb and I rolled into town.
SO the pre-ride was pushed to after lunch, even after the pre-race meeting. I got the bike,
dressed in my non-race helmet, baggiest shorts and my collared MTB shirt. Casual was the intent, relax, not racy. Goal was 1 hour/10 miles.
MC's whole crew loaded up and I jumped in with him in the big truck. There were many plans and missed navigations that gave us a good look at the start and we rode up the finish backward from where we eventually parked. After some tech issues, some of MC's crew turned around and rode themselves home, but MC's sons rode up Storm King with us to the base of Tiddlywinks.
Sobering. The trails were fast and not super steep, but my heart was hit by the altitude, tough to keep under 140 bp uphill. I was fast climbing or cruising the flats, but I was getting dropped by MC and sons on the downs, not trusting the gravelly looking lines and noticing the Annabel-Style aluminum tailings on the nuggets of lava on the outcroppings of the rises.
Very sobering, I realized this was really going to be a long ride on a bumpy, technical MTB trail.
MC hint "got to trust the berm to hold you up"
MC hint2 "the lines are for bikes by bikes, not horses or hikers"
I found a light dinner with Barb downtown in Bend, a Soba Noodle house with a very helpful waiter, we got groceries at a very natural food store that featured boxes for carrying out food rather than bags, and we got a USB cable at a giant Fred Meyer store(wha? costco + safeway?) to study my GPS/HR data in hopes of learning something. Low power, highish heart rate.
I lubed up the bike, twist-tied on the number plate, set out clothes and food and tried to get to sleep.
The Race, By Sectors
MC hint "Break the ride up into sectors. Each one is an independent ride".
The Start
I woke up at 4am after a fitful sleep with visions of little devils and monsters jumping around laughing and poking at me.
Made my fancy instant coffee and usual oatmeal with butter and sugar, dropped the kids off at the pool best I could, got dressed, loaded up bike and got to start at 5:25. Cold out, but I had arm warmers on. Dry cold too, not the wet sloppy Berkeley kind of stuff.
Soon after I found MC, Mike the Organizer gave final bullhorn roundup/thank you/final ban on crashing and we all squeezed through the timing gate and followed his white pickup truck and trailer out of the parking lot onto the highway at 5:40.
Big tire-buzzing pack of sloppy road riders. I tucked in next to a serious looking woman assuming she would be less likely to twitch out on the road/smoother and safer. Pace was quick, tried to keep heart below 150. I lost MC somewhere but I had a big ring on my triple and way to much road-riding experience to be slow here, he'd catch me on the downhill. Big people, small people, mostly happy crowd.
Turned off the highway onto the "Dillion" road we had visited in the preside yesterday. Grateful for the pre-ride as I knew to look for the gravel, sharp turn and uphill all at the same time.
Gravel finally arrived, I peeled off my distinct BBC arm warmers into a pile by Mike the Organizer's truck, and headed onto the fireroad hill with the pack.
I am good at grinding on fire-roads, I try to keep pace in check, this is not Boggs.
Finally, a taste of the single track. Dips and twists, nice crisp little descents through the trees.
MC hint "watch out for the narrow trees"
Nice and smooth, in groups of 2 or 3 not passing much or getting passed, nice rhythm into the aid station passed the first photographer.
AID #1, Mile 19.9
Took on HEED drink and water, but didn't taste/notice the flavor so I assumed it
was all water.
MC hint "drink until I feel sick"
Flat firetrail burn with "Summit Cycles" in yellow shoes. I noticed this guy on the road earlier and up the fireroad he had blown by one of my little pace groups. We took pulls roadie-style to catch the guy he had chased down before the aid, a rowing coach for Oregon who had lived in Berkeley and Alameda at some point. Cruising along, suddenly we have a whole little talky talk coffee clutch going on talking about where we are from, what we do and why, its gets silly but its good to keep the pulse below 140-150.
As the road started up, down and back up, a flock of Single Speeders started appearing about this point, unable to spin and chat as easily as those of us who brought our Granny(gear). Wisely these guys would start walking the steepest stuff, some of which I rode/burning some matches.
Downhill oh my, into an area with cheerers clapping and stuff. It was really nice/sweet.
Around the corner and up the next hill, I pull off to take a nature break. Spend way too much time
parking the bike/looking for a spot.
MC hint "pee like Paul L off the bike"(he didn't say as much as do this on the pre-ride - i.e. don't get off the bike to pee!"
Some more climbing, then we go down.
It goes on forever, wonderful smooth, single track, subtle proper banks, occasional terrors of
trees or rocks but generally smooth and beckoning, gliding through the trees like a river.
Cheering with other riders, in trains of disbelief. I'm thinking, I would love to ride
with any of these guys any day, so solid. Lets go ride guys! Euphoria?
Hammerheads play through, sometimes I am the hammerhead, breathing cleanish air vs eating the dust. Other times, I am dust, looking for the dust ahead to tell me where to go.
Really nice guy in green like a voice in my head behind me, also a rookie at my pace, just loving the carving, smooth lines through the trees, even slightly uphill. I let him pass when I hang up on
a rock. An M for Master, like MC himself. M's are the best. We hear women's voices closing in.
Best sections of trail I ever rode, maybe some of my own best riding as well.
MC hint "Like French, the trails you think are downhill will work you."
AID #2, Mile 42.4
I have a chaffed nipple bleeding through my white jersey, shocking the efficient water support
crew who send me to the medic. Medic quote as he tried to patch up my nip "sorry I didn't buy you dinner first before we took it this far". Too much chest hair made the bandaid futile. He gives me more vaseline like lube.
Mechanic tried to fix my messed up shifting "hanger is slightly bent, cable is out of adjustment, limit screws are off - just what you want in a 100 mile mountain bike race". Did I detect some snarkiness? I deserved it.
The leading? "O" woman in purple kit rolls in, as does a "V" in black. "O" comments in jest that she does not have problems with the dust because she is in the lead.
Felt a touch of cramping and realized I better ride slower, time to learn some active recovery. I never
have succeeded in doing this before, so I am afraid. Took a salt tablet I had stashed for this event - thank you Jason C - and would try to take one each stop. It worked, I think or maybe it was the magic HEED drink.
Had a little bit of peanut butter sandwich, but not too much, fear of over-eating.
3 bottles of fluid, HEED I assume and h20. Goal is to finish these before next stop in 14ish miles, mostly uphill to it.
Realized I had my entire banana still in my pocket, I ate half, offered it to support worker who announced its presence and someone took it immediately - they had no bananas at the aid station so it was a hot item.
MC Hint "There is only so much water you can drink between some of the AID stations, anything you carry is a waste"
Start climbing out of the valley, keeping the heart 145 or below, must recover from my irrational exuberance going down.
My green M catches and passes me, so nice and slight in build. Wish I lost some weight before this.
A big V catches and passes. Wish I was stronger.
"V" woman from the aid, very slight but nice pace, try to follow her.
Over hydrated and loose the woman as I pee like a horse. I am crystal clear, I am proud. Now I worry about calories and eat a bit.
Single speeder in blue plaid shirt and long white sleeves passes by. I follow and he dismounts up some steep stuff. I continue past and slowly pull in a character I will see later as the road continues up. I will call him my Waterless Friend. He has 1 small bottle, and is riding a little goofy climbing, but is faster than me on the downs. He declares he has no water. I have a full bottle 3 miles from the aid and offer him a hit that he accepts. Some tired people out there, me with them but I am actually recovering/feeling better despite the slight cramping.
Riding with Waterless Friend, a rider with a pink, fat tire single speed rig passes in between us up
the firewood. Huh? Not sure he is racing, could be a local out for a cruise, I take up a slight chase. "S" on the calf, indeed he is for real. Fast. Big tires floating over all the tiny stuff. Not sure if there is suspension involved at all. Wow.
I chase the PinkBike into the pits, and see it on the ground, no rider.
AID #3, Dutchman, Mile 56.7
I drink my drink from my bag and am served up water, HEED and more lube. Service is incredible. The drop bag is futile comparatively. I pass the pink bike on the ground and head out across the highway with the flag-people - I do this legally like Mike Organizer said
to do, while other cyclists in the distance just cutting straight to the course. I am a little lost/confused suddenly alone looking for the trailhead - this becomes a running theme. Onto the trail I go, the terrain is changed, new game of loose rocks of pumice everywhere, but in deep shady pine trees and even roots. I check the time, 11:30, well before cutoff and MC's target time. He might be right behind me. Sand traps and piles of pumice, the Pink SS Fat bike catches and floats past me, those big beautiful tires floating on the soft stuff. Gone, I get it now.
Continuing on, dodging the damage best I can, I catch myself daydreaming, outside of myself sort of in disbelief and had to refocus as I chatter across and mostly down (did not feel like down at all BTW) rocks, sand and lava boulders.
Another "V", a big guy in red and black, sails past me, smooth quick cadence the whole way, again more of this effortless stuff. These guys have clearly paced themselves better than me, expecting MC by the next station if this slamming keeps up.
Over a good drop I spy a pink bike in a clearly bad position, ready for me to run it over. BRAKES, in one motion I stop, hop off the bike and scramble down the boulders. "You okay?" he is, I see no blood or broken helmet, and take his word for it. I am ruthless, just want to keep moving.
Then come the fallen trees, white piles of them, with the sections cut out defining the trail, at and above head level even, making a wall of giant, white "pick up sticks", with lava baby-head rocks as flooring. I am flying by, getting whacked by small saplings and hoping a big dead skeleton of a trunk is not hiding among them. Lava everywhere. This is what "Lava" is.
How active is this volcano? I am still slamming along, trying to minimize brakes, be smooth and NOT CRASHING.
Caught up to Waterless Friend. How did he get ahead of me? I realized he was all over the place because he was on 26" wheels, Enve carbons, but still, this is not the ride for 26 inch wheels. "Time for an upgrade buddy". I want to say, but I keep my comments to myself - he'd be kicking my ass with a 29er.
A guy with red backpack smoothly passed by up and over a lava boulder I am dodging. Damn. We get to a lake, turn out the lake. Mike the Organizer had mentioned jumping in the lake was okay, not for me.
Pink fat bike single speed caught us again, with a young rider on a blue single speed in tow. We all glide along around the edge of the lake into the next much smaller, most remote aid station.
AID #4, Lava Lake, Mile 69.6
More lube, I try to convince the mechanic to lube my cable stay near the bottom-bracket, he offers
to put it on the stand. I just want to keep going before I seize or anything. Another salt tablet, and fluids, and I am destined for The Hill.
I leave with Backpack man, who politely calls out thanks on his departure to the support crew. I realize I didn't and feel bad, usually my manners are better. So I try to be social with Backpack man. Turns out he is from Colorado and has done Leadville (100 miler) 3 times, but not this year because its too expensive. This one is a family vacation, he says. At first there is no hill, just up which I am good at so I keep up fine. Gets so steep we start getting off to walk. Feels good to use other muscles, and I am actually catching people just walking the bike up. Nice long legs, wish I had kept more running in my training. I even catch Lava man and some other guy we drop. Up up up we go, riding what makes sense and walking stuff the single speeders would/should. (Later I will learn gears don't matter for this course. Almost agree, 90% of the time in granny for me).
Lava Man has a new Garmin and announces we are almost at the top. He proudly shows me his screen. Cool and thanks. At the flattish top, Backpack man heads straight into a 4ft tall boulder and floats up and over. I cheer for him, but the trail heads down and that is the last I see him. My hands and feet burning, I let Lava Man by too. Too much downhill, hands and feet feeling it a little, still not pain though. Screaming downhill (my screaming downhill) I see a purple kit changing a tire on the side of the trail, she seems okay but I try to ask and decide to not crash and keep on moving.
MC hint "the downhill after mile 70 is so long and bouncy you will wish for the uphill"
MC was absolutely right, relief in the uphill and I roll into the final aid station, called "Edison".
AID #5, Edison, Mile 79.1
As with all the aids, the support people grab my bike and ask me what I want, as if I am some sort
of elite athlete. I am so grateful to stop. I eye the awning and am asked if I want to sit in the shade. I am delivered my Edison drop baggie I so carefully set up the night before. I drink my drink, and reach for the caffiene Espresso Love Gel, it is time for drugs. I am breaking. I forget to pack more of the gels in my pocket, I think. I am not thinking at my best I realize.
Sitting in my little chair in the shade, other riders are bunching in, a wave. The support worker is still loyally holding my bike, sort of looking for me in a panic. Time to go. I thank him wholey and heartily. I take on extra water, sort of stupid/silly, only 20 left but I am fearing a very long 20.
People clapped for me as I rolled out of the parking lot, almost started crying, had that
overwhelming gratefulness with sadness feeling. Melancholy? The Esspresso Love getting to me? I had the mind to realize it was my biology breaking down or off, but it was weird, very emotional, something broke. I wonder if it changed me forever somehow.
Dinah Moe Humm sucked, as MC had promised.
MC hint "It doesn't look like much of a hill on the map compared to the others, but its nasty" (forget exact quote, he warned my 2-3X)
I start out okay climbing, using the banks to whip and gain anything possible, clinging to the wheel in front of me, but they all left me on the down. V's, M's, some O's just float by in pairs gabbing away. More sweet voices behind tell me they are gassed/wasted and they get to float by, down the little hills. Even the flats get tough and slow. A trail sweeper on a blue bike looking like Peter Sagan floats by for the 3rd time, yelling at me that I missed a turn. Whoops, talk about support! I get back onto the trail to the left. Duh.
I am looking for, living for Tiddly Winks, visualizing the 5.83 mile point we rode to 24 hours earlier.
My heart only sometimes lets me go to 140 or 145, sometimes only 130. Hands and feet finally sore as they were in Annadel, hating the bumps and rattles.
I check my watch, my vision is hammered by dust, and salt, I can make out 5:30, I am way late, this will be a 13 hour day. Where is Mike? I wonder if he passed me during my crying game episode.
From my 83 mile distance I estimate I must be within a few miles of the last downhill.
I ask the next passer how far to Tiddlywinks, he says a couple hundred yards.
MC hint "When you get to Tiddlywinks, you cheer because you are almost done"
Big crazy bumps and table tops start coming at me. I grin faintly. Big walls of flow trail,
familiar thanks to Tamarancho, big huge downhill of flow trail, created by a steam shovel or something my god its huge, bike and me are holding together. I try to trust the trail. Like 60 miles
earlier (my god) it goes on forever, I hold on for the ride and do not crash.
Suddenly it is time, finally I am the one who is familiar with the trail as we finish Tiddlywinks and hit Storm King. Purple kit flys by. Its a woman not sure its "O" from 60 Aid #1 and tire fix. I catch her on an outcropping but its ladies first now and she too is gone.
Final uphill, I see riders behind gaining behind me. Mike? I call back "Mike", no answer. At the crest my left leg begins to cramp all at once - not just the hammy, but from ankle to crotch. NO NO NO I will it to stop, keep on pedaling, more water HEED, whatever it takes, the leg settles down. The familiarity helps a lot, I know where I am the first time all day. Maybe this is how the "winners" do it, i.e. know the trail maybe?
Last rise and I am not passed, I must be pushing. Down the long slope to the parking lot, I turn on what I can.
I look down and float over the body of a dead chipmunk, and start contemplating how it ended up dead on this bike trail during a race and feel bad for it. I am a little loopy. Fast flat, no brakes, these guys want me they better freaking pedal for it, final down and up, a group of neon road worker looking people with radios calls out my number and a count "we got 3, we got 3 coming" to flag people holding traffic.
The road. I take my hand off the bar and stretch, riding, moving. Smooth feels great, tires humming, slight vibration. I reach for that huge bottle of water in my back pocket, open the top, dump it on my head and back. I look back to see if these guys want to paceline home, I think I ask, but they seem to be slowing while I am rising. Dumping a full bottle of precious water on oneself at mile 95 is a pretty good psych out move. Baptism! (thats for Barb).
Big gear, its been a while and I am grateful its still on one piece after some of those lava hits. Knobs whirring, I try to get into an arrow tuck. Feeling fast, I do not dare check the speed in case I am actually sucking. I am 13 hours plus at this point, but heading home fast, no sign of riders behind or in front. People in random cars shout out at me. Not sure the intent, I am annoyed until I see they have the OR bicycle license plates. How cool. I am whirring and past the resort and past flaggers aiming me to the final stretch of trail to the finish.
Turns out Barb would show up here 10 minutes later for some reason, but thats a different story I still do not understand.
Finish, Mile 100.7
I turn left off the single track onto gravel and hear my name and me being talked about, "Number 332, Todd Stiers (mispronounced) riding for the Berkeley Bicycling Club, coming in at 4:something for a time of 10:something, I cross the line and untangle myself from the bike. A kid comes up and offers to take the bike, another gives me a cold towel and a cold Coke a Cola. I stop my Garmin, which managed to stay powered the whole time. Stopped, I check my watch. Wait. 10 what?
My watch says 6:4? pm. Turns out I somehow hit or bounced the watch configuration to CHIcago,
2 hours ahead of my actual time. This means I rode in under 13 hours. In fact, under 11 hours. Holy crap, talk about an error in my favor.
I look around and see all the people who got here before me, sort of what some expect heaven to be like. Green M(Rob) is there, Lava Man, Backpack man. I even see the pink single speed bike, but not the rider. The light green helmet of the pair that floated past on Kiwa Butte. No MC, no Barb. I later see Waterless Friend but fail to get his war story and pass on the 29er suggestion "here have mine" could have happened. Bikes could be had very cheaply in the moments after 100 miler.
I sit and drink my Coke, waiting. I wipe myself in the glorious cold towel. I am almost an hour too early for Barb, who holds all the keys and phones, and I have no idea where MC is; shooting for 12 hours which puts him on course. I sit and chat with the Green M, and Lava Man, start wandering because I am antsy and want a shower, too nervous to look for Barb or miss MC's finish, so I sit and gently stretch, watching other riders drip in.
An hour passes 5:30, no Barb but I find MC's family who cared to show up. More love and support from MC's family, nearly cry some more but I am recovering fast. We cheer MC in, and he fly's across the finish nearly into the hot truck with a power slide. Awesome, so MC.
I get my growler, and a little pastry, MC's sons ride our bikes up the hill, T's minivan whisks me up to the condo but Barb and her bike are gone, then she pops up behind the condo on her paths, we make plans, shower up and go out for dinner, stiffly, sorely, with flakey appetites and matching HC100 shirts.
Lessons
- Downhills are free speed - by going down fast and smoothly, you avoid the need to accelerate back up to speed, saving even more energy. I should invest in learning to ride downhill better, and maybe trading bike weight/setup to improve my DH. Should I risk loosing my strength to improve my weakness? hmmm
- Know the course - MC's hints were very helpful as thematic points, but actually riding and knowing the course would have improved my speed another 10%, mostly in the downhills. More trips to Bend vs a new bike should be considered
- Hands and feet - pain started limiting what little downhill speed I had. Fortunately, I experienced this at Annadel, so I realized it was likely to happen again when I realized the MTB world is more like Annadel than it is a smooth singletrack highway - the pre-ride was enough to bring that into focus. Denial helped me get to the starting line.
- Bicycle Maintenance - I thought it was all dialed in, but my shifting went to hell literally at the starting line. I did not elaborate above beyond aid #2, but I had grinding and slamming noises from both front and back all day. No issues on the pre-ride, but I pondered swapping out shifters a few weeks back, maybe taking it to the shop/etc. Do it. Better shock setup? Do it. Dual suspension? Do it.
- Forget the drop bags - the service and loot at the aid stations was plenty at this ride. Practice with their food though, HEED is nearly tasteless (to me) which is great. A pack of salt tabs and 2 Clif bars, and one Gel are all I ate. I maybe under-did the calories?
- Right-size the water supply. Or weight in general. Its silly to carry 24 oz of water 15 miles to dump it on your head. Leaving the backpack at home was a good decision I toiled over. This ride had awesome support.
- Loose some weight when you train. Unless you go "C"lydesdale class (me and MC are in our 190s), freaking loose 10 lbs, its barely anything compared to the riding time discipline.
- Where I got stupid/examples:
- I lost 2 hours in my ride without noticing
- I almost ate the whole PB sandwich at once.
- I worked too much going downhill/having "fun"
- I raced despite my best intentions, lost focus and almost bonked/fried/died mentally
- Maybe did not eat/fuel enough - only 2 Clif bars consumed? HEED saved me?
- Only one Gel at Mile 80 - 2 hours plus left, best to assume once 1 Gel is in, one is needed every 30 minutes. These bonk me, I knew it but still. Oh, then I found one in my right pocket unused after the race. Arg!
- Where I got lucky or smart
- Temps were relatively mild.
- Course was in good shape/had rain a week or so ago/less dust
- I stayed very well hydrated, peeing like a horse
- I recovered after mile 42/AID #2, was very smart and conscious about this, a big personal victory for me.
- HEED worked for me, I should have trained on it/with it. Sport drink science improvements should not be underestimated anymore than suspension.
- I did not crash, or flat. Good tough tires, new Maxxis LUST Rear was key.
- Awesome support at the aid stations, unreal really. Lubing chains, holding bikes, medics and even organizers noticing my bloody nipple, just too much, such sweeties in Bend. I think I cried for you out there.
- I followed a training program - not mine specifically, but I recommend Chris Eatough's 12 Week 100 Mile MTB Race Program. Starting here would have been wise, and a custom program for me would have helped even more. Investing here might be #1, maybe even for my DH needs.
- Good MTB training with great, patient riding buddies for 3 years got me to this point - MC, GNuti, Adam SS and Adam C (who fixed my back too no less), the WMD Mikes and visitors, Boggs and the super Ryans, Tim, Coach Morgan, TNR and C510 hammerheads, all inspiring greatness and helping me grow some off-road balls.
- The roadie riders from the 6ABC and BBC, who got and kept me riding and aerobic through my "O" years while growing companies and raising babies.
- Barbara for her support of my cycling and the commitment, time and equipment it requires, and taking a precious child-free summer weekend for me in Bend.
- MC was invaluable and to blame for all of the above, thankfully it went well.
