High Cascades 100
The HC100 starts in the foothills of
Bend, Oregon and travels toward and then around the base of Mt Bachelor. The
coarse is roughly 80 miles of single track that never crossed the same path.
Last year, we were spoiled with cool temps and a tacky coarse. This year was
heat and dust. The race started at the Mt Bachelor Village and headed up Mt
Bachelor road for five miles, then off on to dirt roads and sweet single track.
The morning was nice and cool. This gave
me a chance to stretch out the cobwebs, enjoy the surroundings, and focus on
the day ahead. Luckily, the day before we were warned from Mike the race
director that they had not received rain in a while and the trails were
extremely dusty. He advised wearing a bandana or Buff mask during the race.
This saved my lungs. I had the Buff on through mile 60, then intermittently
after that. At aid stations I looked at other racers with caked on dust around
their lips and nose, not me. After the race, the sound of racers cough, hacking
dust out their lungs, was common, but not by me. The Buff was a lung saver and
a tool I’ll use in future races.
Bend is my second favorite place to ride
(Park City being first). They have grown a bike culture and have hundreds of
miles of single track. Most the single track I’ve rode is smooth and flowing.
Because of this, if you’re thinking of doing a 100 mile endurance race, High
Cascades should be your first. Not only is the coarse smooth, it flows through
several types of terrain, all producing big grins. However, this is not to say
the race is easy. The coarse has 11,000 plus feet of vertical, steep climbs,
and hard lava rock that beat the bike and the body. This year our main obstacle
was the heat.
For me, and what seemed for everyone, the
oven didn’t turn till Lava. My first 59 miles went really well. I used the
Buff, so my lungs were good. My nutrition was good, eating and drinking
constantly. And most important, I enjoyed the trail, all of it. But once I
entered the Lava section, the temps rose, the sun exposure was constant, and my
body let me know it wasn’t happy. It’s funny the mind games that occur in these
endurance events. Throughout Lava my body was hurting, yet my mind screamed for
more sweet single track. By the time I made it to the aid station, I was
cooked. I had burned through my electrolytes and began to feel the onset of
heat exhaustion. I knew leaving the Lava aid was a steep five mile climb out.
So I had to pull back and take advantage of what the volunteers had to give.
Step one: cool down. I soaked my head, chest and back in ice water. Cool
the core down and wipe off all the salty sweat. This helps my psyche a lot.
Step two: take in all the food, drink, and salt I can. This still wasn’t
enough, mostly on the electrolytes. I really need to figure out my
electrolytes. And step three: stretch, relax, and refocus.
From Lava I was off to Edison. The
steep climb (for me, hike-a-bike) was waiting and I wanted this finished. All
the food I ate and electrolytes I took were not enough, I felt my body shutting
down. Riders were passing me and I could barely keep peddling let a lone hit
the gas. I had just nine miles from Lava to Edison and it would take everything
I had to make it there. The heat was sucking me dry. My drink mix was starting
to taste ridiculously sweet. I made myself eat food that wanted to come up as
fast as it went down. Basically, I was stuck in the pain cave and it was a
bitch! This year, I have visited the pain cave at every race (I really need to
figure out my nutrition). When I’m there there’s a saying I repeat over and
over, “always moving forward”. No matter if I’m riding, coasting, or
walking…Always moving forward. Repeating this with some good tunes has helped
me finish every race I mechanically could. After the climb, heading to Edison
this was mostly a blur. I remember feeling the pain of another rider who had
just broke his hub and was taking the walk of mechanical angst. One can only
understand the disappointment of another if they too have had to drop out of a
race from a mechanical.
When I made it to Edison it looked like a
MASH triage unit. There had to have been a dozen guys with blank stares due to
heat exhaustion. Some you knew would be there for a while, but then push
through. Others who were completely cooked, waiting for the sag wagon. Knowing
my own condition I did the same thing I did at Lava. This time I kept eating
more salty chips. I knew I was taking in enough food. And having peed four
times already, I knew I was good on hydration. The missing link was
electrolytes, and I was way behind. So I took what was there, ate more salty
chips and knew that I had 21 miles to go, six of those being downhill road. I
knew I wanted it over, and I knew I could finish in the shape I was in. So, I
headed out and made sure not to look back at the defeated.
There’s not much to say about the last
segment, at least there’s not much I can say. There was Tiddly Winks, with it’s
whoop-t-doo’s, another climb, and finally the road to the finish, but just like
all my races this year, the last push has been a blur of exhausted pain. I do
remember they moved the finish line to a deep gravel trail and thinking, “DON’T
FALL 50 FEET BEFORE THE FINISH!” And I remember the cold, wet towel they give
all the finishers. But most of the last 21 miles was a blur. Last year HC 100
had a 91% finish rate. Mike, the race director, hopes to increase that to 95%.
However, the night before at the race meeting, he said due to the heat he hoped
to get 85%. In the end 80% finished. I hoped to crush my time from last year. I
was 20 minutes slower. Niki was just six minutes behind me. If I would have
known, I would have taken another drink, ate another PB&J and waited so we
could have crossed the line together again. Next year.
