Category: Blog Posts

It is hump day and I have made plans with some friends to go hike Borah Peak. And to make the weekend more fun to go see more friends in Pokafello. Another weekend with friends is at hand. So now I transition from recovery from last weekend to ramping up for another. But first … a ride into Pattee Canyon tonight.

As I floated up the hills like a butterfly and hammered down them like a bus I couldn’t help but think ahead to next weekend. A big road bike ride into Idaho that is like 60 miles. A gravel road climb to the backside of the Bitterroots which could add another 15 or so miles. I am guessing at the mileage here folks. Then to top it off a 25 mile run through the Roots coming out at Blodgett Canyon. Yea! its MAD.

 

Then it happened. I realized how fun mountain biking is. Missoula in the fall is beautiful.

It seemed as though I was doing something against the grain. I was headed to Caras Park alone for the Missoula Brew Fest. Why against the grain? Because it seemed like all my friends were out of town and I was going alone. For some reason alone out in public is too scary for me.

I wondered through the crowd with my empty mug in hopes of running into someone I know. I know that I SHOULD be going through the crowd looking for NEW friends all the time. But I like the friends I have … thank you very much. I am an introvert I think.

As I strolled through the crowd a woman took my hat and ran off. I chased her down and introduced myself. She got my mug filled. I got my hat back. Her boyfriend looked pissed. As I looked at her I realized that I am an introvert and this was just to scary. I ran off.

Then I ran into Jim York and hung with him a little bit telling of my hat snatching story. Then Pat Scharfe Came strolling by and gave me a sweet I Bike MSLA tee shirt. Thanks Pat!

The rest of the evening the beer kicked in and I became a socialite. I had a nifty tee shirt and even got Pat some referrals.

“I just have to have one of those shirts.”

“They are $15 and you can get them from that guy over there.”

Thursday I was gearing up for a trip to Seattle to visit someone when it was pointed out that I would be traveling much more then I thought, somewhere in the neighborhood of 8ish hours.

It would go like this … drive my ass off followed by a brief day of hanging out to a evening camp out. The next day I would watch a triathlon and jump in the car for a return trip home and arriving mucho late. At the time it didn’t seem like a good idea and I bailed.

On Friday the more I thought about it the more I realized I should of made the trip. I was feeling pretty low and knew I should fill up the week as much as I could so as to not think about “things”.

Enter Friends Fest a new category of ultra endurance activity. 48 hours of endurance activity and challenging tests of strength. All done with friends or in adventure racing terms a “team”.

Stage 1, hour 1: The event starts at Brew Fest in Missoula where I must enter a crowd of drunken people and seek out team members, get extremely drunk with them, and then jam to a funk band late into the night. Bob Skogley and his family teamed up with me and together we finished out stage one in the main peloton.

Stage 2, hour 4: This stage is to go to the Union Club in Missoula where one team member would play the drums while I was to dance with at least three other tem-mates. The stage was scored by style points, endurance dancing time, and presence.

I scored highly on all three counts. I quickly learned some dancing moves that wowed the crowd. Team-mate Ed Stalling was on the drums and my main dace partner was Laurie Stalling with supporting roles by their friends. I put in a decent amount of dancing time. My presence was scored highly due to the “hotties” I was dancing with. I pulled ahead on this stage because I shut the place down.

After this stage was a bike ride to the camping facilities where after only 3 hours of sleep I had to rise and take on Stage 3.

Stage 3, hour 13: Climb Squaw Peak. I teamed up with Joshua Phillips and friends. This stage started out rough as fatigue settled in and had to endure a extreme hangover. I was a tad late to the first check point and I fell behind a bit. As the day wore on I caught back up and we topped out on the peak to some great views. On the way back to my car I decided to pick up the pace and soloed back trail running. I was getting a second wind.

Stage 4, hour 17: A quick transition drive to Missoula to check point Stalling. I arrived in the nick of time to be stuffed into the back of a Subaru and hustled off to Snow Bowl. This test would be the hardest. The stage comprised of first overcoming vertigo, second was to run to the top of Point Six, and third another vertigo challenge that was even more extreme then the first.

The first part was a chair lift to the top of Snow Bowl and I handled it quite nicely due to being distracted by a bear sighting and casual talk with team mate Ed. On top we took in nutrition and headed out for the run up Point Six. This is where I came face to face with Kelsey a two time marathon runner who was half my age. At first we were neck in neck but I was to fake her out by a sudden surge to the halfway point of the climb.

The final dash up the “Skin Trail” and I was becoming the super star of the day. There were fans lining the trail up and they were quite inspired. At the top I was surrounded by mountains in every direction and the Mission Range to the north.

I faltered on the third part as we rode the chairs down the mountain. I felt like there was this force pulling me forward and out of the chair. I was to fall to my death and knew my moment had come. I don’t know how I made it through.

My team mates Ed, Laurie, and friends greeting me at the conclusion of the stage and reported that I was as white as a ghost.

Stage 5, hour 21: This stage was in direct contrast to the endurance activities of the morning. I was to put down around 8000 calories in 1.5 hours interspersed with a acting session where I was to pretend to be a family dog .

Again I teamed up with Ed and family and we decided upon Old Post for massive food overload. This is where the “team” element paid off. I was able to catch a cat nap in the trunk of their Subby as they drove me back into town.

After consuming about 7000 calories I used my surroundings, a trunk of the Subaru, for my acting section. I barked like a family dog at passing pedestrians, cyclists, and cars. I really did quite well.

On to my final test of strength and we pulled up to the Big Dipper for a session eating Cardamom ice cream. While deep into this test I ran into day 2’s team mate Sommer and her friend Jenny. We briefly discussed the next day’s stage options and then I turned to my team to finish up the caloric event.

Does Cardamom ice cream taste like fruit loops?  Back to the story …

Stage 6, hour 34: Sunday’s first stage was a TBA ride. It was a test of negotiation and compromise. Sommer was the first to call and I agreed immediately. We would do the Sheep Mountain Trail Loop.

Our team of 4 was well balanced and ready to rock at the trail heading out at around 10 AM. The group included Ed and Laurie Stalling, Sommer, and Jenny. Laurie was the first casualty who had started the ride feeling sick and left the group about a thousand feet up.

We arrived at Blue Point about 3 hours later feeling our oats. We all climbed strong while I cleared the headwall in the woods and was on a roll to set a personal PR for “dabbs”. Then we reached Wishard Ridge and finally Sheep Mountain. 4 hours into the ride we set forth on the long and demanding decent. Through the rain forest and BC ravine. We rolled back into town around 6.5 hours later.

Sommer, Ed, and I hit up The Bridge Pizza to recover enough for the last stage of the “fest”.

Stage 7, hour 44: This was the final stage and I was already in the lead and virtual tour winner. All I need to do was finish the stage. The stage included and impromptu judging of a fashion show followed up by more caloric intake. This stage was really a “wind down stage” kind of like the last one in the Tour Dah French.

The event ended at the Hip Strip Block Party here in Missoula.  7 stages, 46 hours, 11.4 miles on foot, 28.7 miles mtb, and 9,000 vert feet. I spent the weekend with quality people … good friends. I am thankful.

Hey, who wants to go riding?

The day after the 8 Hours of Labor we went into Butte to enjoy a rather large breakfast. When we got back I discovered all our stuff was on the way out of the lodge. Chris and Mandy were busy preparing the lodge for some new clients. I had to dig my food out of the garbage which was quite amusing to Chris. I explained that a half a loaf of Udi bread and some turkey cold cuts were all I had for the week.

On the docket for the day was a ride on some routes we had not taken before out at Homestake lodge. Eric, Julie, Sten, Christy, and myself headed out as it started to rain.

We hit up some cool dirt roads and manage to almost get lost.

We made our way around to the Butte 100 course and just for kicks decided to go up the Power Line Climb.

Just as we finished up the sun came out and we headed down the road for some afternoon fun (Tomorrow’s blog).

August 30th, 2010. Everyone was “floating the Missoula Sewer System” while I craved something a little…sturdier. Finally, Lydia agreed to tackle the elusive Trapper Peak with me. Confidence inflated, I volunteered for a race in Bozeman, only to be hit with Saturday night blues. Ditching the trip seemed tempting, but Lydia’s unwavering spirit reignited mine. “Crappy weather? Bring it on!” she declared.

Hiking in cold rain? Sure, why not. To top it off, silence on the phone – just Lydia and I, ready to tango with a potential “epic.”

And epic it was, in the most unexpected way. Rain clung to us like a jealous lover, morphing into snow at a thousand feet. Summit fever clouded my judgment, but Lydia, ever the voice of reason, kept me grounded. We trudged on, exchanging lies about the lack of snow and fantasizing about escaping the white abyss.

Then came the frat house on the mountain. Yes, you read that right. Job Corps kids cheering our ascent like rockstars. We signed autographs and disappeared into the blizzard, feeling a bizarre mix of exhaustion and hilarious empowerment.

Next, a sobering dose of reality from a couple turning back: no visibility, slippery rocks, a summit shrouded in white. Undeterred, we pressed on, our resolve forged in shared determination.

The final obstacle: a treacherous scramble over car-sized rocks. Lydia, sensible soul, took the safer route. Me? I clung to the ridge, relishing the mini-downhill thrills (and cursing my stubborn streak).

After battling false summits that felt like cruel jokes, we finally saw it: the summit cairn, our Everest in a winter wonderland. Summit dance in the snow, geocaching with an Action Wipe (because someone might need it!), and then…down we went.

The descent was clearer, revealing the mountain’s breathtaking beauty: snow-dusted trees clinging to black scree, a scene painted in stark contrasts.

At the car, we grinned at each other. Trapper Peak had tested us, challenged us, and ultimately, accepted us. Even with the unexpected snowstorm, it was a good day. A reminder that winter comes early, and sometimes, embracing the “fail-tures” leads to the most epic victories.

Resources

Trapper Peak: This is the highest peak in the Bitterroot Range at 10,157 feet¹²³. The climb is a steep, strenuous hike³. The trail becomes indistinguishable beyond the wilderness boundary, but is marked by cairns³. It’s necessary to pack water as there is none along the trail³.

Winter Hiking: Hiking in winter can be a unique and rewarding experience, but it also presents its own set of challenges. It’s important to dress appropriately, check the weather conditions, understand winter trail conditions, and prepare for shorter daylight hours⁴.

Photography in Snow: Taking photos in the snow can be tricky due to the bright, reflective nature of snow. Overexposing your photos can help avoid grey snow⁵. Using manual focus can also help achieve sharp images⁵. However, sometimes the beauty of a winter hike is best captured in the memory rather than in a photograph.

The rain lashes against the windshield, a cold symphony mimicking the tremor in my hands. Trapper Peak looms ahead, shrouded in mist and promising an icy welcome. It’s August 29th, and instead of sun-drenched summits, I’m facing a gauntlet of hypothermia. But hey, what’s a little discomfort when a mountain whispers your name?

Yesterday, I was basking in the warm glow of camaraderie at the Leverich Canyon Crankup. John Curry, as always, left the competition in the dust, a blur of wheels and grinning grit. But the real win was catching up with friends, their laughter a balm to the recovery fatigue lingering from those endless 100-milers and 24-hour races.

Evening saw me huddled around a table with Sten and Kristy, the clink of cutlery and murmur of jokes chasing away the shadows. It was a simple moment, bathed in the golden glow of friendship, a reminder of the quiet joys that fuel every uphill battle.

But the road always beckons, and tonight, it leads to Trapper Peak. Rain whispers of retreat, paints doubt on the windshield, but the mountain’s call echoes louder. This isn’t just a hike; it’s a dance with the elements, a test of spirit against the bite of the wind.

Maybe I’m crazy, maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment. But when the world shrinks to the rhythm of your own breath, to the crunch of boots on wet earth, that’s when the magic happens. That’s when the chill becomes a baptism, the rain a cleansing storm, and the summit, a hard-won crown forged in the crucible of discomfort.

So, Trapper Peak, here I come. Hypothermia be damned, my spirit’s a furnace that won’t be doused by a little rain. This mountain may test me, but I’ll dance with it, embrace the icy wind, and claim that summit as my own. Stay tuned, folks, for this is a story written in raindrops and etched in frozen footprints. The adventure awaits.

Resources

Trapper Peak: This is the highest peak in the Bitterroot Range, standing at 10,157 feet¹²³. The climb is a steep, strenuous hike³. Beyond the wilderness boundary, the trail becomes indistinguishable but is marked by cairns³. It’s necessary to pack water as there is none along the trail³.

Leverich Canyon Crankup Mountain Bike Race: This race takes place on the Leverich Canyon Loop, a popular mountain biking trail⁴⁵⁶⁷. The trail is known for its steep but smooth singletrack trail up the mountainside⁴.

Recovering from 100 milers and 24-hour races: Recovery from such intense races is crucial. It’s important to rest, hydrate, and replenish your body with proper nutrition^89101112.

Preventing Hypothermia: As you’re heading out in cold and rainy conditions, it’s important to take measures to prevent hypothermia. Wear synthetic materials or wool, which can keep you warm even when wet^1314151617. Stay hydrated and snack often^1314151617.

Sometimes it isn’t clear so you will just have to have faith. This is a sign that Paul and I encountered on the Razorback section of the route we did through Blue Joint and Little Blue Joint (future blog with great photos). We didn’t have a map and at times we got a little lost. But we had a vision and faith that we would come out somewhere. And when we did we would be the richer for it. This is like life and love. Sometimes you have to go on blind faith.

This weekend I am off to Grand Targhee for the Pierre’s Hole 100. I am heading up to the Blue Mountain area to see my TNR friends for an hour and going home to pack. You have to do something as you are waiting for “things” to turn out…o/o

I have been having some weird combinations of symptoms and cant quite diagnose the issue. I am keeping an open mind to see if there is anything I need to do to learn from them. I assure you I am not taking any kind of medication what so ever and no Kettle House Beer either. I did do the Butte 100 a couple weeks ago and some things happened there to make me open to change. So here are my symptoms.

• My dirt powers have been stripped. Like my mountain bike is … just a bike and not a chariot of speed.
• No appetite at times and then famished at others. Like a roller coaster.
• Almost like going into shock after a loss of blood.
• Emotional outbursts, almost feel like weeping without seeing a sappy movie.
• Nervous anxiety like a job interview.
• Feel out of control.
• Sad, scared, and helpless all at the same time.
• Feel as if I am about to die.
• Very nervous and jittery.
• Physical dull but tingly pain in the middle of my chest.
• Almost feels like a Excedrin overdose.
• Lonely (yea, weird).
• Feel shaky and unbalanced (not good for cycling).

I must make note that I have a long standing symptom that may or may not have something to do with this. I seem to keep the people I really love at a great distance.  I never get close to anyone local. Strange but I just realized it.

Here are some of my thoughts on what could be happening.

• Heart attacks, numerous ones.
• Bad reaction to combining wine and cardamom ice cream.
• Bad reaction to candle smoke / aroma therapy devices.
• Finally have rode my bike too much (burn out).
• Being heartless and finally losing my actual heart. Brought on by a deprivation schema where as a child I was not empathized with or was deprived of affection, thus becoming heartless.
• Been compromised by a cute secret agent who implanted me with a device or ideology that my body is rejecting. Could I have been brain washed? Abducted?
• Organs were harvested (explains the tingly stomach area).

Any other suggestions?

Now some treatments and things I think I can do until I figure this all out.

• Stay away from cardamom ice cream, candles, and wine until these symptoms go away.
• Keep things clear and communicate with others. Seek friends and open up. Do the opposite of what I want to do.
• Force myself to ride a bike. It has to be good for the soul.
• Stay away from distortions and irrational thinking. Joking around is fine (so I can do this blog, it is how I am, was told it is a good quality).
• Get a cat scan to see if all my organs are accounted for.
• Seek out emotionally available people. Preferably ones that bike.

When I was a child my mom used to say, “Its just growing pains”. Yea! like don’t you think I have stopped growing … maybe I haven’t. Again; lack of empathy for me as a child and see what happens…o/o

I just came off a weekend that presented me with some emotional adventure. Some feelings came rolling by and instead of getting me down I have decided to use this opportunity to reflect. Now most of the story I am about to expose below comes from fragmented stories that I have been told over the years by family members. I may have it wrong but this is what is buried deep within my brain, somewhere hidden. What is about to be revealed may irritate some but really people, can I be responsible for everyone’s feelings when this reveal is meant to heal and not malicious?

In any case this event shaped my life and saddled me with a bad reaction to emotional times when I become clingy and worrisome. Some times I don’t want to be alone and while independence is great alone should not be so bad of a thing.

I was a young child. I only know that I was young enough that should I be found miles away from mom’s house walking down the middle of the road that a police man had to scoop me up and take me back. So young that he had to scoop me up. So small that I wasn’t even as tall as a sagebrush. I am guessing around 6 or 7. When do children start to walk? If I had a bike I would of been three miles down the road. Anyway thanks to living in the small town of Roundup the police man knew who I was and where I belonged.

When questioned why I just took off and walked straight down the road I answered that I was going to find my grandpa. The only problem was that my grandpa was dead. But I felt like I knew where he was and was making a break to go find him. I guess my mom was grieving and thought I was asleep in my bed.

Grandpa died in a hospital after a massive burn accident. He was on top of an oil tank working in the oil fields when it exploded. Accidents happen and death happens but to a small child it is hard to explain.  To a small child it is abandonment. Yea! Well that is brutal but as raw as it seems it is what it is.

My grand father was my dad (according to my mom and grandma). My mother was a single parent and grandpa took over the duties on showing me the ropes everything from shaving to fixing a motor. I was young and didn’t understand of course but he was “the man”. If that is true then I must of felt that he abandon me.

“Would of , should of, could of”, is a phrase that was told to me this weekend. I suppose that is right but what happened after my grandfathers death also contributes. I say this without blame because in the end everyone reacts and because of a pain that was dealt with at a very young age. Parents were emotionally distant and the word “love” seemed to be taboo. Then to top it off I kept investing my love into pets that would get hit by cars. Again probably why I have a bad relationship to cars while riding my bike.

No-a-dayz I know that I am alright alone even though it is hard at times. By living alone you discover and learn about yourself and only then can you live with others. Right? So my homework project is to trust other relationships. I will trust they will be ok, and that they will work out how they work out. Relax dude!

I tried to chase my grandpa down that day but that damn police officer stopped me. Again. Should of had a bike. Maybe that is why I am still riding as fast as I can into the night … for 24 hours.

1. Locating
2. Eat
3. Meet
4. Experience
5. Gather
6. Ice Cream
7. Wine
8. Snacks
9. Stories
10. Discovery
11. Failing to Sleep
12. Wake
13. Goodbye
14. Sadness
15. Sleepy
16. Time …o/o

To all my friends that left Montana this morning … miss you and great travels. I hope our journey will continue in the future. It was a great event!

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.