2010 Butte 100

Welcome to my rendition of the 2010 Butte 100. Most of the story takes place in the first 20 miles or hour and a half. My initial goal was to ride the course in 9 hours and I have pre rode most of the sections to give me confidence in that plan. After the initial stages however the race became cramp management and your run of the mill “blowing up” or “chocking”.

Photo credits: Martha Van Inwegen creator of Action Wipes, Marta and Rich Shattuck of Team Muleterro, and Dave Chenault.

Most of my failure to do the Butte 100 in 9 hours was due to stress. I let the enormous field get to me and I stressed out more then I ever have before any race. Even in the World Championships I had no expectations. But this was the Butte 100 and I have openly been training for it. Failure was not an option but in the end the stress of living up to those expectations cracked me.

Friday was registration day but I found it a registration of stress where all the people I cared about was there but I couldn’t even stop and enjoy the moment with them. I spent the night with friends in their motel room but only slept around 2 hours. It was a miserable night.

Finally the time had arrived to get the race day started and I exited the motel at 4:30 am to drive up to the start finish line. Looking back I should of just camped up there with my friends and relaxed. It was a mistake to take this thing so seriously. I arrived and prepared according to a handwritten plan I had devised days before. Before the sun came up we were off.

The initial downhill right at the start was Blacktail Canyon which is the first time I started a race on a downhill. My form on the bike is like my cardiovascular system in that it takes a while to get started. I was like a beginner on the downhill and that broke any confidence that I had in doing well at the race in pieces.

I fell back because of my slow decent so I worked extra hard to get caught up. A couple riders behind me frustrated at my slow pace sprinted up to the main field as well. Finally we were all together again. i was breathing hard and wondered if thee pace would slow down.

The pace was brisk and being behind 20 or so riders the dust was chocking. To make things worse we were riding in the burrow pit alongside the highway so numerous times at road crossings we almost crashed into each other.

The pace slowed and we regrouped just before the dirt sections leading up to Elk Park. Mostly climbing it is a section of dirt roads, logging routes, and some ATV double track through streams and aspen groves. Everyone took off up the climbs like it was a cross country race. I let them go and kept my pace steady. I didn’t slow down to a pace I had practiced but didn’t sprint behind thee lead pack either. I was in  no mans land between the cross country pace riders and the people pacing themselves.

At some point I realized that I should get back with the group or risk not being with them for the long paved road section. I needed to be in thee main group so I wouldn’t have to work so hard to the Nez Peirce Trail. I kicked it up a notch and put the heart rate into anaerobic threshold. I passed a Hammer Nutrition team mate and then he passed me back. This little folly and pace trading kind of put me back a bit. I figured what the heck, I will coast up to them on the downhill. I had full suspension … right?

As we reached the final dirt road leading to the pavement the dude just shot down the gravel like he was shot out of a cannon. No way was I going to waste myself like that. I did a steady effort down the hill. As I emerged into Elk Park I realized what happened. The Hammer dude made it back to the pack and they worked together to start to build a lead. I chased as hard as I could but out on thee road was imposable.

When I arrived at the Nez Perce Trail the group had 5 to 10 minutes on me. I tried to keep tempo knowing that I could catch most of everyone on the single-track. Soon the climbing took its toll and my 2 hour consistent anaerobic pace caught up to me. I blew up in no mans land. Between the main pack and the pacers.

I finally did catch two  riders Alex Gallego and Kiefer Hahn and passed them. I started to feel better because maybe I was starting to work my way through the field. Everyone had to be hurting, right? Just 5 minutes after passing I pulled up with a cramp and had to stop. It is very frustration to be going well and felling strong when a cramp puts a damper on things.

All the way through Pipestone and Homestake we traded place in this manner. I would start to feel better, pass them, and then stop for a cramp attack. It was like we were going to ride the race together. At one point Kiefer was wishing out loud for some bike lube. I stopped and announced “lube stop”. We all lubed our chains from a drip bottle I was carrying. It seems I make new friends as Kiefer said, “Wow, what a difference. Your a hero.”

As we rode up the power lines and I was amidst my cramping sessions a rider caught us and overtook us ripping along at a great pace. I knew immediately that was supposed to me me. If I would of only paced myself I would be ripping it right now with him. I announced to my riding group, “see that is what you look like if you don’t freaking start of so strong. We should all be ashamed of ourselves.”

No one answered.

I was riding pretty steady between Kiefer and Alex when we were approaching the half way aid station. It seemed that Kiefer was going for it and Alex had dropped out of sight. Suddenly I cramped harder then ever and had to get off the bike entirely and walk very slowly. Soon Alex passed me and asked what was wrong. Did he really have to ask?

I found a bottle of endurolites and sopped to pick it up just before we headed out for the last 50 miles. Miraculously I was back in front of Alex and Kiefer because my aid station stops were so efficient. They passed me as I scooped up the endurolites off the ground and put them in my pocket. I never saw them again. As usual I went down Blacktail Canyon like an amateur.

As I approached the Archery Range I saw two riders going the wrong way. I did a double take to look at the arrows. They were pointing right. I couldn’t wrap my head around why they went the other way. I tried shouting but they were already over the hill and could hear me. I went off to run them down and cramped. I turned and followed the course. I was going to be lucky to finish this thing so I decided to stay on course.

I went steady but slowly and rode all by myself. Through eh Archery Range and over to to the aid station just before the big climbs. I noticed my friend Chad asking if I needed anything. I just drooled and kept my eye on the path in front of me. I was focused to just finish. I grabbed my bottles, filled up my endurotites container, and headed up the steep climbs.

I was soft pedaling and determined to keep from cramping and at the same time clear all the monster steeps. I heard someone come riding up behind me and assumed it was Alex or Kiefer. I kept the bike steady and cleared a major steep pitch. On top Tinker passed me and I did a double take.

“What happened Tinker?”

“I got lost.”

“Sorry man, I have nothing left to help bridge up.” “I am at the back of the pack actually”.”

“That’s ok.”

And that was it. Our entire conversation as he rode in font of me I did make one last “stupid” comment to someone walking their bike.

“See I was leading Tinker for half the race”, I was joking and giggled. Actually no one seemed to get my crack and I felt like a jerk. Oh well, that’s me. Making dumb comments.

After that we rode together for around 5 miles and I was actually feeling better and could stay with him. I even took over the lead momentarily until a downhill section where he shot down the decent with such great speed i feared for my life and slowed down. He rode off into the distance and I was left to deal with my own thoughts once again.

I slogged through, getting cramps, and soft-pedaling. I made another aid station to see my buddy Ross who helped me pit. I made it up and over the 8 miles of hell. The next aid station was the last one and I came into it with a ripped sidewall. Doesn’t get any better. It was an excuse to quit but with the help of John McDermott we got it booted and put a tube in it. Next thing I know I was back out on course … DOH!

So I just kept on keeping on until I had about 5 miles to go. I was going to make it. But wait, there was still a chance. CRASH  RUMMMBLE … that a big storm could take me out. Lightening hit on both sides the ridge I was on. I was a little scared and that kept me from cramping. Then cold wet rain.

The last mile I did not enjoy as the wet rain had me so cold I was feeling very ill. I barely rolled into the finish line into the arms of all my great friends. I had to get on the ground as soon as possible. I laid there as the world spun abnormally.

In the end I failed but some of my friends made the weekend sweet by doing their best. Zephanie rocked the women’s 100 and took the title. Her biggest ride ever on a mountain bike and she came in right behind me. Ross took a couple hours off his time and looked very impressive coming in. Just to see the accomplishment, joy, and tears made it all worth while.