Race Report: Tatanka 100 by Jeremy Larsen

I may not be fast, but I am slow.

Tatanka 100

The Tatanka 100 takes place in the Black Hills of South Dakota, with the start and finish in Sturgis. I was curious how a bunch of spandex wearing self-propelled mountain bikers would fit into the world of leather clad Harley’s? What I saw was this town is dead in June. The famous Sturgis Motorbike Rally doesn’t take place till August, so most of the bars were closed and only a few “bikers” were in town. Hell, there were more people in town for a Camaro car rally than motorcyclists. And as far as Tatanka cyclists, we were 100 strong, but spread out between the town of Spearfish, 22 miles to the West, and Rapid City, 28 miles to the Southeast. So, our impact of taking over the town was rather meek. Regardless, this did not deter us from taking in all the sights Sturgis had to offer. And after a 5 minute drive through town, feeling we took it all in, we headed to Rapid City. Here we fueled up with great Indian food at Katmandu and walked the downtown Summer Night’s festivities with outdoor concerts, art exhibits, and excellent people watching. Rapid City seemed to be a cool town and, found out later that it is supposed to have a lot of great single track. If you’re driving I-90 passing through Rapid City, I would stop and check out the biking. You might just find a permanent place to stay?

Back in Sturgis we prepped for race day, organizing our drop bags, figuring out nutrition for the 103ish mile ride, and driving from aid to aid so our pit crew (aka, Mom and Jake dog) knew where to go. If you’ve entered long endurance races, you know it messes with the GI system. I plan days ahead. With a diet of fruits and veggies during the drive to Sturgis and the Indian food for dinner, my GI was clean and ready to ROCK come race day. Race start time was 5am. The promoters wanted to start at first light to give riders “17 hours of daylight riding”. It’s hard enough to be in the saddle for 12 hours, I don’t want to know the taint pain of 17 hours. But, if you have a mechanical it’s good to know you have time to finish. Another part of Tatanka 100 is the Black Hills 100 running race. The running race actually preceded the bike race by three years. There are three categories: 50K, 100K, and 100mile. Now, it’s hard enough riding a bike a 100 miles let alone running 100 miles. Runners are silly. The running race started an hour after we left. The Tatanka 100 race director advised, “if a runner passes you, you should probably think about quitting”.

At 4:45am we were at the start ready to roll. The plan was a police escorted neutral rollout through town to a gravel road. Once there, we were off for five miles of dirt road then to single track (Centennial Trail).  So at 5am we headed out. Now they talked about a “neutral rollout through town”, but I don’t think they told the police officer of this plan, or he had thoughts we were racing Tour De France. He took off at the start and there was no catching him till he stopped to block traffic while we turned off to the gravel road. Despite the early wakeup, I felt great! My lungs loved the lower elevation and dry air. At one point I looked down and saw my HR was 160 (I’ve never had it higher than 153), but still felt great. The race was broken down into four sections: Sturgis to Dalton Lake, Dalton Lake to Silver City, Silver City to Englewood, and Englewood to Sturgis.

The first section follows the Centennial trail, a flowy fun smooth single track trail with great views of the Black Hills. The ups were very manageable and I was feeling really good enjoying the scenery around me. The pack had spread out and I hooked on to a racer from Ontario. I like it when there’s another rider you can talk with and enjoy the trail with. We motored through stream crossings, rain forest like vegetation, up dry canyons, and bombed down loose single track to Dalton Lake. Dalton was the third aid, but first drop of the race. Luckily Niki and I had my mom come out to help crew. She greeted me with cold water and a restock of Portables (http://feedzonecookbook.com/category/portables/). Once restocked, I was on to the second section, Dalton to Silver Lake.

The second section began with ATV two track and mostly stayed that way through to Silver City. The race organizers said there’s 60+ miles of singletrack. And after the first 25ish miles, I was looking forward to another 35 miles of the same sweet single track, unfortunately, it never came. This section was mostly loose funky off camber ATV trail and every so often we had to dodge ATVs and Razors. When the trail did turn to singletrack it was clear that it was not built by mountain bikers. One downhill section was a steep loose 60 degree off camber trail that wanted to shoot you off the hillside where big trees and rock cliffs were waiting to cheese grate you down the mountain and spit you out. At this point my sphincter tightened and all I could do was hold on and ride it out hoping for the best. At Silver City, despite the challenges of the last section, I was feeling pretty good. According to the race description the worst of the climbing was behind me. The rest had “enough to challenge, but to still allow mere mortals to finish the race”. So after being restocked by mom and hosing my head down with cold water, I was off to Lakewood.

This section of the race follows the Mickelson Trail #40 along Rapid Creek. This was a great recovery trail from the shit storm of the last 20ish miles. The trail is a smooth tacky singletrack that follows Rapid Creek. Rapid Creek was anything but rapid. While riding, I couldn’t help but read the stream and think where there would be trout just waiting to take a fly. A perfect 3wt trout stream where one could just enjoy the day. Eventually, my daydreaming ended with the trail. Well, the trail didn’t quite end, but went straight up. I was at the mandatory hike-a-bike section. When I say hike-a-bike, I mean pick your bike up, dig your cleats in, and claw your way up 100 meters of steep ass hillside. If anything, Tatanka 100 delivers trail diversity. Once on top there was some flowy singletrack down to the Mickelson Rail Trail. I should have caught on from the group of riders who pulled over to stop and apply sunscreen, headphones, eat, and recompose themselves. But I did not. The next 16 miles were a constant 3% uphill grade. The trail was an old rail bed that was resurfaced for non-motorized use. The trail is smooth gravel completely sun exposed with a couple tunnel and bridge crossings. This is where things went south for me. The monotony of the smooth gradual uphill grade screwed with me mentally and physically. I tried to tag on to other riders, but nobody was riding at a drafting pace. I have no idea how long it took me to ride those 16 miles, too f’ing looong. The reward was a 5 mile decent to Englewood. With speeds of 25-30 mph, a cool breeze, and the thought of cold water and shade waiting for me I enjoyed every second of that downhill. Once at Englewood I laid on the shady grass next to my dog Jake (Jake had been accompanying grammy all day) while my mom gave me ice and cold water. Food was starting to taste bad and I could feel I didn’t drink enough this last stretch. Oh well, it was time to get this thing done. I’d completed 77 miles and had 26 to go. Sturgis was waiting.

The last stretch was mostly Forest Service roads. Better than the ATV two track earlier, but not the fun single track of the Centennial Trail. As I pushed ahead, the days ride really began to catch up to me. No longer were my pedal strokes smooth and efficient. I had to focus on wagon wheels, then heel slides, then knee thrusters. What was really hard were the riders passing me, talking and smiling as if their ride had just begun. However, misery loves company and I had my own riding partner, Dirk, a SS from Rapid City. Unlike other riders who spoke with positive optimism, Dirk and I exchanged profanity and discontent about the trail, our soft puny bodies, and why in Gods name do we consider this fun. This actually helped the miles go by and before I knew it we were pushing up the last hill. As we crested the top, the trees opened to a view of Sturgis three miles below. As I viewed Sturgis the thought came to me, “I’ve made it 100 miles and only have three downhill miles to go. Let’s do this!” In hindsight, I should have been paying closer attention to the trail instead of looking at the goal ahead. Because at that moment there was a strip of metal flashing on the road and my front tire ran right over it, slicing my sidewall. What was a feeling of positive hope, turned to fear and focused concentration as my front rim ran over baby head after baby head.

Once I was able to stop the bike, a string of loud angry profanity rang out of my mouth. For years to come, I’m sure the children of Sturgis will talk about the day they heard the mountain yell in anger words only heard during the motorcycle rally. Dirk, being a good suffering companion, asked if I wanted him to stay and help with the flat. I told him no thanks and enjoy the downhill. So with three miles of downhill to finish, I pulled my bike to the side of the road and slowly began to change the flat. Within a couple minutes, to my delight, Niki cruised down and blew past me…wtf!?!? But, recognized me and hit her brakes. One thing about Niki is she gets her second wind after hour six and is smiles till the finish. I hate her for that. She saw my sad state and helped me put in a tube. We had nothing to repair the sidewall, so with the tube pushing out a little, I just had to hope it would get me across the finish line.  It was great riding the finishing stretch with Niki. Husband and wife, riding together, matching kits, awww sooo f’n cute! The tire and my body made it to the finish line. As we crossed the line we joined hands and had big smiles.

See, f’n cute!

If you’re in the Bad Lands, don’t overlook the singletrack. I hope to explore more of the Centennial Trail and the trails around Rapid City. Maybe next year? For this year, the body endured for 11 hours with no injuries or major mechanicals. I met some nice people, and Niki and I finished together. All in all, a good race.

Race Report: 2013 Nordic Trail Festival, Presque Isle ME. By Craig MacDonald

The Nordic Trail Festival is an action packed mountain biking weekend that should definitely not be missed. Held at the Nordic Heritage Center in Presque Isle the festival  has a down home soulful feel. The event was well thought out and seemed to have a little something for everyone,  including the kids. There were so many things going on over the weekend it's almost impossible for me to list them all, but I will try. For runners,  there were six and 12 hour trail running events for solo and team efforts. The children had all kinds of entertainment including bouncy houses, face painting, several races and a bicycle parade. There was also adult entertainment for us older kids too with live music featuring 3 bands, The Marshall Warf Brewing Co. was there with some great Maine brews and  several food vendors.  One of the highlights of the weekend was the "short track" race. That event was held after racers had sampled a few adult beverages because you need all the courage you can get when you're about to race a little kids bike with 14 inch rims while wearing a full-faced motorcycle helmet. It was a riot watching racers take a nose dives trying  to pedal over something as easy as a 2x4 (those motorcycle helmets did more than just look funny) We also enjoyed a fireworks display late Saturday evening.  For those of us racing on two wheels they had 6 and 12 hour races for solo and team efforts. Sunday there was the biathlon which was a combination of mountain bike racing and marksmanship followed by a downhill race which was another great competitive event. The drive up to Presque Isle really wasn't terribly long, about two and a half hours, the views are really quite beautiful. When you arrive on Friday there is live music, food, drink, an opportunity to register for the races and free camping with showers. All this and more for $20 if you're doing the 6 hour and $40 if you're competing in the 12 hour.

The drive up gave me time to think about my strategy and how I might handle my first 6 hour solo race; my one and only goal was to stay pedaling for the 6 hours and finish the race. Being new to racing and this being my second race ever after the Carrabassett Backcountry Cycle Challenge 50K, I was told this race would be fun and relaxing,  the perfect sampling of what the Carrabassett 100k might feel like. I have been mountain biking for about 15 years but have only recently taken the sport serious enough to race, so this is all a new experience for me. From what I was told, the course was relatively easy with some technical riding in the beginning along with some moderate climbing, but overall free flowing, fun and FAST.  I've never ridden any of the trails there so the course was unfamiliar to me, which was not ideal.  Along with this concern we had some weather that was rolling in, that made me wonder just how slick the rocks and roots would be.  I had been told the course was fast, but how fast did I want to go under wet and slick conditions?

                                       Photo From Nordic Trail Festival Facebook Page

So there I was staged at the start with all the 6-hour riders. It was great to see a bunch of familiar faces in the white and green jerseys at the start line. Not too long after the start of the race I found myself behind a large group of riders that lacked technical riding experience and that definitely slowed me up a lot. I stayed patient waiting for my chance to pass, I started getting a little more aggressive but not dangerous, passing only when it was safe for both myself and the other rider I was overtaking. I kept thinking about staying with my strategy of pacing myself and not exploding in the first few laps, which was not easy to do, keeping that excitement bottled up and only releasing a little over time. I knew this was necessary if I was going to last 6 hours. Six hours would be the longest ride I have ever been on and my previous night of sleep, or I should say lack of sleep, worried me. Being sensitive to light when you sleep means you should probably not pitch your tent where a parking lot lamp will illuminate your tent like a searchlight would. The light, along with my excitement, had me never catching a wink of sleep. I was ready to jump out of my sleeping bag and PEDAL! Ok, back to the race, this is a race report after all. The gist of it was that I didn't feel 100%, but in what seemed like no time I found myself together with a group of familiar faces and voices, my teammates from Qualey/Rose Bike Racing.  Ahhh… nice, the race now had the feel of "just another group ride".  I continued riding on with my teammates; before I knew it we were all alone - in front of me two members of Team Rose, behind me two more members of Team Rose. It felt great being in that row, 5 long and out in the front.  It looked like our team had a chance to sweep the podium. I wasn't sure where I would be or if I would place at all. I was still thinking about pacing myself and just finishing. Bill Brown was in front of me along with Scott Johnson both strong, fast riders so I was quite certain that they would both place. I continued to ride with both teammates Corey Odermann and Corey Adams when we came upon a rider having some trouble. As we slowed down to see if we could help, it was then I realized it was one of us, Scott Johnson; a stick had taken out his derailleur and several spokes. There was nothing we could do to help and with a smile on his face he told us "I'm out." Riding off, I couldn't help but think about his situation and that our team had lost one of our strong riders. Now the responsibility was on the rest of us to finish in his place strong! I continue to pace myself on the first lap and on the second lap, but by the third lap I could no longer hold back so I made that my "blow off some steam" lap and rode relatively hard. I made it a point to stop quickly for a little bit of food and a refill on my water after each lap, spending a maximum of maybe 3 minutes. Somewhere along the fourth lap the rain started falling again making the trail conditions even more slippery than they had already been. The mud went from greasy to tacky and the consistency seemed to change quickly over time. Climbing became a little more challenging as the tires would stick to the ground but still be very slick on roots and rocks. I learned a few things about wooden bridges that get very little sun - never approach them at an angle, always roll straight across them and DO NOT PEDAL! I think you all know how I might have learned that little tidbit. My 4th lap had me feeling pretty strong, I pedaled pretty hard.  I was really enjoying myself, even taking some air, launching over some rocks and drops on the downhill.  I was having a good time, wasn't really thinking about how wet the root and rocks were. Then something scary happened, I took a jump and landed on a cluster of rocks. Somehow my front tire got pushed to right and my rear tire to the left rotating me in a direction that sent me off into the woods at a relatively high rate of speed. Amazingly, time seems to slow down when these things happen and I started thinking, wondering what a helicopter ride would feel like since I was going to most likely be evacuated by helicopter after this crash. But just as things started to speed up and I was hurdling off into the woods, things slowed down very quickly and I came to a complete stop upright, clipped-in and seated. I looked down; it seems the trail gods were protecting me and wanted me to finish the race. My foot had entered the butt end of a log; it was mostly rotten with a hole dead center. My foot entered that hole and my ankle cut its way through the log almost 2 feet in.  Wow! I took a moment to regain my breath, reflected on my stupidity and gave thanks to the trail gods. I then backed my way out and pedaled off slowly.   Occasionally I would have a rider pass me; they would be going much faster than I was and seemed to still have a ton of energy. 

                                          Corey and Corey (Photo From Nordic Trail Festival Facebook Page)

                   Me Heading through a rocky section (Photo From Nordic Trail Festival Facebook Page)

                                            Photo From Nordic Trail Festival Facebook Page

       Sue passing the baton to Deb at the lap point (Photo From Nordic Trail Festival Facebook Page)

                          Matt Cote being fast (Photo From Nordic Trail Festival Facebook Page)

That was a little demoralizing, but I continued on. After completing my 5th lap I realized those riders that passed me had fresh legs and were resting while another teammate raced on in their place. At the start of my 5th loop I felt strong, I felt good; I wasn't sitting on a lawn chair watching everyone else, I was paddling and loving it. I was much happier sitting on that bike seat than a camping chair. On my 6th and final lap I was still feeling pretty good, looking forward to the 7th lap, unfortunately I missed the cut off time to go back out for the 7th lap.  It was now time wash off all that mud. Later at the awards ceremony Bill Brown was sitting very close to the front, I remember laughing about that and joking that  he didn't want to walk too far to receive his gold medal. I was there to have fun and cheer for those who placed. I really had no idea who that was going to be. It was a big surprise to me when I found myself walking up to receive a silver medal for second place in the 6 hour solo, my strategy had a paid-off  SWEET! 

All in all it was a great weekend for our team. The Qualey Granite/Rose Bike crew swept the Men's 6 hour solo with Bill Brown in1st, Myself in 2nd and Corey Adams in 3^rd place. Eliza Cronkite took silver in the women's 6 hour solo. Our boys Eric Roy, Bruce Malmer & Jeremy Porter raced as a 4 Person Team with just 3 racers and still managed to bagged the Gold in the 12 hour.  Deb Merrill's team won 3rd in the women's 6 hour. Josh Lawrence and Bill Brown both placed in the Biathlon.  Julie Brown placed 2nd in the women's biathlon. Josh Lawrence's daughter Josie Lawrence received a medal in the girl's downhill on a new ride from Rose Bike a few days earlier. Others from the team and friends of Rose Bike (I think we had 17 team members there in all) put forward some great efforts I might add and it was very nice to have you all there.

                                                Most of the team before the race

                     Fireworks show at the after party (Photo From Nordic Trail Festival Facebook Page)

Things I learned:

• Pacing yourself and taking a recovery lap is the way go.
• Mud from the County tastes different than our "local" mud.
• The Dora the Explorer bike rips it up!
• Only explode when you have time to recover.
• Just because beer is free doesn't mean you NEED to take it.
• Get to the front of the starting cluster right away!
• 4 Pints of Can't Dog Ale after a race can render you useless.
• It's better to be passed than to do the passing (get out front).
• Canadians are crazy competitive creatures.
• Be safe, smart, but aggressive to win!
• Mountain bikers and cyclists are some of the nicest people you could ever meet.

I am looking forward to next year's festival and the good times it will bring. I have much to learn and I'm grateful for the advice and time that is offered up by my teammates. I'd like to give a special thanks to my Thursday night fast paced brothers. Thank you all!

Race Report: 24 Hours of Great Glen : by Eric Roy

The 24 Hours of Great Glen is a 12/24 hour mountain bike race that takes place in the Great Glen Trail system… basically the base of the Mt. Washington Auto Road.  Racers can participate as a part of a team or as a solo rider.  The forecast leading into the race weekend was pretty good, daytime highs in the mid 70s, no rain… but  chance of showers the night before.  Oh weather.com… apparently by “chance of showers”… you really mean… 3 inches of cartoonish rain will fall in 4 hours.  I’m way too much of a wimp to sleep in a tent in those conditions, so Robin (pit crew) and I found a motel in town.  Before check-in, I went to the race site to pick up the race packet and set up our group’s  EZ UP tent on some high ground.  I figured that there would be plenty of pedaling on Saturday, so there was no need to preride the course in the torrential downpour.  After a great (dry) night of sleep, it was time to go to the race site and get ready.  Upon arrival, I found Jim and Angus scrambling to put together the mangled remains of the EZ up tent, which apparently blew away and was partially destroyed sometime around 3 in the morning.  It could have been worse… our neighbor's tent blew into the pond.  At least we got “the thing that always goes wrong” out of the way before the race actually started.

Despite showing up plenty early, the pre race meeting and noon o’clock start seemed to come quickly.  Great Glen uses a Le Mans start, which means that all racers run to their bikes and ride, in this case run around a pond at the starting line.  At Great Glen, people seize the opportunity to dress up in some pretty amazing costumes … and with the theme this year being “Beach Party”… let’s just say that there are some things that cannot be unseen.  The starting cannon fired and the costumed people and team riders took off screaming and sprinting like wildmen/women, while the solo riders started jogging at a more casual pace…  At one point during the run, it occurred to me that I may have taken off a bit too slowly… because I was jogging/shuffling alongside a guy who was in costume (I think) and was carrying an open bottle of Budweiser.  This looked like a guy I could probably beat!  Before long, I was reunited with the bike, a union that would hopefully last for the foreseeable future.

                                                Spectators at the race start

                                                               Angus found his bike

                                                       I found my bike too

Pedal Pedal Pedal...

Because I didn’t have a chance to preride the course, I had absolutely no idea what to expect in terms of terrain.  I just reminded myself to keep the intensity down to avoid a blowup in the first couple of hours… And for the most part… I was able to do this (certainly better than  12 Hours of Millstone Race Report).  After a segment of carriage road, we ducked into the woods for the first taste of singletrack.

Note:   The first lap of these type of races is a bit frustrating at times because everyone is bunched up… and apparently everyone forgets that you are allowed to pedal your bike in the woods too…  It was tough not to power past the groups people who were walking their bikes on very manageable singletrack

Pedal Pedal Pedal...  

After the field spread out a bit, I was able to settle in a rhythm on the bike and I started  taking mental notes of how the course was generally laid out.  The first part consisted of carriage roads interconnected by some singletrack sections, and toss in a few doubletrack sections where the mud was deep.  Strategy wise, all of the carriage road climbs seemed to be climbable with my chosen gear ratio, but the muddy singletrack climbs would be done off the bike to conserve energy.  The course also had 3 advertised Strava segments on it… a climb, a sprint, and some sort of “all around” segment.  Even though I'm not on Strava, the signs indicating the start and finish of each segment served as convenient landmarks, which helped me break the course into pieces that would be easier to remember and plan for.  Once we rode for a while on one side of the road (just after finishing the Strava sprint section)… we crossed the road, rode up some tough switchbacks in a blueberry field (aptly named Blueberry Hill), up another paved/gravel hill and then rode on another muddy section that was pretty much unridable unless you were willing to put down some serious effort… which I was not.  After this, we crossed back over to the other side of the road, did one more techyish/singletrack/ switchback climb, and rode “The Plunge”, which was basically a set of logs that were filled in with some gravel to form some crude downhill steps.  This was a part of the course where spectators gathered to cheer on the riders (ie witness some crashes), and they all seemed amused by the speed that I carried through this section.  I’m very much of the opinion that the proper way to approach sketchy sections on a hard tail is to let go of the brakes and trust that the bike would rather roll over things instead of careening into the woods.  Bikes have a sense of self preservation … right?  The final notable feature of the lap was A FLOATING BRIDGE shortcut across the pond (same pond we ran around at the start).  They even had sharks in the pond!  Totally Awesome.    Across the bridge, through the timing tent… Boom… Lap one was officially official (8.2 miles by my GPS)…. But I was in dead last place in my division…. oh well

                                  Trying not to get eaten by a shark on the floating bridge

Pedal Pedal Pedal...

There isn’t really a whole lot to write about in terms of play-by-play of the race itself, because the race was mostly uneventful for me… and from what I can gather, that's good thing for endurance races.  It would absolutely be worth talking to Bruce, Angus, and Jim for their experience.  In short, there was a lot of pedaling, some walking, a lot of eating/drinking, and some resting.  Throughout the day, there were short conversations with people as I passed and got passed … before I knew it, the sun was going down, and the night laps were starting.  I had been warned by a few people that racing through the night can be tough.  These people talk the nighttime laps being “the witching hours” where people “go to dark places.”  I didn’t find this to be the case at all, in fact I felt best at night.  Maybe this is an instance where my sleep disorder puts me at some sort of competitive advantage.   It was at night when I was able to pass a few singlespeed riders, and found myself sitting in 2^nd place in the category…. Right on!   

While we are on the topic of rankings,  it’s about time to start gushing a bit about some aspects of the event.  First and foremost, the timekeeping system is incredible.  It's all RFID, so you (or anyone else) can follow your progress in real time… on the interweb… so you and your pit crew know exactly where you stand at any point in the race.  It was awesome to go into the pits for a snack and receive updates on the other riders.  The access to timing data also kept Robin entertained while I was on the course.  Long story short, Jim was riding like a madman fueled by peanut M&Ms (no surprise), and was battling for first place in his age group with a guy from Central Maine and Bruce was the epitome of steady and proper pacing (this is not news).  Another thing worth pointing out about the event were the volunteers.  These people were absolutely awesome.  I bet that it is 10x harder to stay awake through the night when you are sitting in a lawn chair or hammock in the dark than it is to stay awake riding a bike with a headlight.  These people were awake (mostly), constantly cheering on the racers, and making sure we didn’t get eaten by the wooden sharks that were alongside the floating bridge.   It doesn’t sound like much… but I it provides a huge morale boost in the middle of the night!  The enthusiasm of the volunteers spread inside the lap point/timing tent, because people went a little nuts with applause/cheering whenever they saw any solo riders jogging through the tent to go out for another lap in the middle of the night.  Incredible.

 Pedal Pedal Pedal… sun comes up.

Sometime around 8 or so in the morning, I started looking at the standings again, and was excited to learn that I was still in 2^nd place… and I had a 3 or 4 lap lead on the guy in 3^rd place (he left the course for a few hours).  I was still a few laps down on the leader… and he was still going strong… and was much stronger than me… so I was working to preserve my spot in the standings.  As I was getting ready to go out for another lap, word got out that one of our tent neighbors had busted up his ankle pretty good on the trail, and was being carted off the mountain.   This caused me to reason through the following logic:   “I have had a lot of fun racing bikes today… I would like to have fun riding bikes beyond today… therefore maybe I should ease up because the trails are getting pretty beat up, very wet, and I am starting to get tired… getting hurt would make it so today was not fun, and would also make it so I can’t have fun riding bikes beyond today.”   Not too bad for a sleep deprived guy who doesn’t have a strong self preservation instinct.  Because I still wanted to do what I could to maintain my position in the standings… I just sat in the camp wrapped in a blanket, eating junk food… and if the guy in 3^rd place went out for a lap… I’d go back out for a casual lap to maintain the buffer.

The guy in first place began implementing the same strategy… which my ego appreciated because he wouldn’t continue lapping me (even though he absolutely could have… the dude was strong).  Once the time was getting closer to the end of the race, it was clear that the standings had been decided, so I returned my timing chip and took a much anticipated shower.  THANK YOU GREAT GLEN FOR HAVING SHOWERS/HOT WATER ON SITE.  Once clean, I ate some junk food, had a semi coherent conversation with Angus about the positives and negatives about reduced fat Cape Cod Potato Chips… and I decided that it would be a good idea to climb halfway into my open trunk and take a nap before the podium ceremony.  While I was asleep, Bruce steadily rode into 2nd place for his age group.  My GPS read 136 miles, and 14,500 feet of climbing, but if you believe the mile markers on course, my mileage was closer to 147.  Either way, that’s double the distance I’ve ever ridden a mountain bike continuously, so I was happy to have finished comfortably.

Not a bad day for the Qualey Granite/Rose Bike Team.  Jim Rose and Bruce Malmer took 1^st and 2^nd respectively in the 50+ Solo 24 Hour Class, and I was able to take 2^nd in the Solo 24 Hour Open Single Speed Class.  Angus Rose was riding like an animal until an old knee injury caused him to end his day early… but he still ended up taking 4^th in the Solo 12 hour division.  

                                        Jim (center) and Bruce (left) on the 50+ podium

                                               I got 2nd place for Solo Singlespeed

A Few General Notes:

• I cannot speak highly enough about the event coordinators and volunteers.  These people even had people trying to repair muddy sections of trail during the race.  This selfless crew put the racers first, and that type of effort undoubtedly builds loyalty for the event  
• Boredom is something that others had warned me about in a race like this, but I can’t say that I really experienced it, even though the course did have a lot of carriage trails and the muddy conditions caused me (and most others) to walk quite a bit of the singletrack. 
• If you are looking for a mountain bike event that favors fitness over bike handling, this is the event for you.   If you’re like me and you are a stronger “rider” than a “pedaler,” you should still put this event on your calendar to hold yourself accountable for fitness.  We should try to get a much bigger group over there next year and compete for the “Best Team Camp” (Central Maine Cycling Club won it this year)

Race Report: 2013 12 Hours of Millstone, July 27, 2013: By Eric Roy

By:  Eric Roy

The 12 Hours of Millstone is an endurance mountain bike race put on by Casco Bay Sports, the same crew that promotes The 12 Hours of Bradbury.  The race was a late addition to my calendar this year, but a friend of mine spoke highly of it, so I said “what the heck?” and threw my hat in the ring.  This winter, I had set a goal of racing one or two 12 hour events as a solo rider… mostly so I can see what kind of races I enjoy most, would be able to train accordingly during the offseason.   Because this is my third year biking and only my 3^rd race on a single speed, my performance expectations were minimal.  Therefore, my only goal was to still be riding at 8pm (which is when the last lap had to be started).

It was sometime around the Tuesday of race week that I began prepping/packing, and I realized that I had no idea how to race a 12 hour solo even, so I solicited Google, as well as my more experienced teammates for advice.  All in all, the  common thread was  consistent with the advice that I received  from Riverside Racing/Cannondale rider Matt O'Keefe when I unknowingly/mistakenly sat down with a table full of elite class racers at breakfast before  my first bike race.

 “Don’t be an idiot and blow up in the first hour… no endurance race has ever been won in the first hour... but lots have been lost”

Piece of cake… Right?

After packing the car, I was as ready as I was going to be. 

Despite some last minute things popping up at work, I was able to duck out on Friday to make the 5 hour drive across 3 states to Webstervile, VT.  Ironically, a few of my Qualey Granite/Rose Bike Teammates had done the same trip on bikes the weekend before...  

Millstone Hill is a fantastic venue for a lap format endurance race.  The race course starts and finishes along the long edge of a field, which allows plenty of room for riders to set up their support tent and campsite along the race course.   After setting up camp and chatting for a bit with my neighbors, I set out to ride the course.  

My approach for the preride was to simulate the manner in which I would ride the race.  I had planned on hiking the longest/steepest climbs in order to conserve energy (advice from teammate Rich Long), and to find parts of the trail that lend itself to eating/drinking (advice from Geoff Bergmark).  Here’s the problem… it turns out that the event organizer set the race course on trails that are AWESOME to ride…particularly hard/fast... The best way that I could describe the trails is that the singletrack surface was similar to Bradbury, in that it is rooty&rocky enough that you had to pay attention, but the topography of the land was completely different.  Unlike the race course at Bradbury, Millstone had a couple of doubletrack climbs, several punchy rocky/rooty uphills/downhills, and some short, tight switchback climbs and descents that were similar to the climb up the Camden Snow Bowl.  Basically...these trails are trails that you would have a great day on with buddies and have a beer in the parking lot.  A side effect of the awesome terrain that I had to consider for a 12 hour event is that there were limited opportunities to eat/drink while on the bike.  Therefore I had to tweak my strategy a bit… I would now kill 2 birds with one stone and eat/drink WHILE hiking the two toughest climbs.  That way… I’d be able to have fun on the single track descents AND still have enough energy to ride all day. 

Piece of cake… Right?

Fast forward to the start line on Saturday morning, where I was able to catch up with some other guys that I've met through the few races that I've done.   After a quick pre race meeting, the solo and 2 person categories were released.  The start was pretty typical, where the fast (and sometimes not so fast) guys jockey for position going into the woods.  Dew from the cool, humid evening made the roots and rocks a bit greasy, but was not enough to make things sketchy.  Being new to the sport, I tend to be a pretty cautious at the beginning of a race, because I’m not familiar with the riding styles of the other racers, however it quickly became apparent that the cluster that I was riding with was very capable and (more importantly) predictable in the woods.  Because of this, the first lap felt a lot like a fast group ride and was an absolute blast.  However, as I was pulling in to the lap point that I realized three things:   

1.  The guys I was riding with were all part of  2 person  teams (I realized this as they tagged their teammates at the lap tent) 

2.  I had not gotten off my bike to hike ANY of the hills, which meant that  

3.  I had not eaten or drank ANYTHING … 

… So much for discipline/planning

Out of fear for a complete meltdown, I forced myself to reel it in a bit as I pecked away at the next few laps at a more moderate pace, and was largely able to stick to “the original plan.”  The more tempered pace had me feeling pretty comfortable, and I was sitting nicely in 3^rd place for my category.  Sometime in the early afternoon (5 laps in), the temperature began to rise… and I was starting to pay for the sins of my first lap.  I decided to make lap 6 a recovery lap, with a focus on catching up on food/drink… but I wanted to do this all while keeping the bike moving forward.  Turns out… it was too little, too late, and I had to head to the pit area after lap 6 in order to avoid a complete meltdown.  During this time, I took a moment to clean/lube the chain, but the purpose of the break was to get out of the sun and put edible things in my mouth.   In doing so, I watched two people from my division leapfrog me (brutal)…. but I reminded myself that the alternative would have been much worse.  After the 20 minute break, I felt like a new man… and started pedaling again.

As the day continued, I was able to keep plugging away, but I made a point to stop for 3-5 minutes at the end of each lap to sit down and get a little extra food/drink in me.  Apparently this is what a lot of the more experienced racers do for a course like this (including my campsite neighbor who ended up taking 3^rd in the solo division).  This was the right strategy… because I was riding hard but sustainably… and before I knew it, 7:30 pm came around and I had just finished my 9^th lap.  Because event rules state that no lap can begin after 8, this would be my last lap.  It was also the first time this year that I had ridden with a light… something that I tend to associate with fall/winter riding.  This gave the now familiar trails a completely different feel (which made time fly), and before I knew it I was approaching the final gravel road section about ¼ mile from the finish line when I heard, “Coming up behind you”… and another racer clipped my bars… sending me (and only me) to the ground at about 15 mph.  After a quick body part inventory (everything was still there) and a quick bike check (no damage), I got back on the bike and pedaled the remaining 0.2 miles to the teeter totter at the finish line, where I the finishers were greeted by enthusiastic  cowbells, music, and happy smiling people who were fueled by cold beer.

Boom…. My first 12 hour solo event was in the books. 

In summary…looking back…

Positives aspects of my performance:

• Although it was disappointing to miss the podium (largely due to me ignoring the advice of more experienced racers), I met my only real goal for the race… to still be pedaling when the sun went down
• I had hoped to get 8 or 9 laps (which was the average for all solo riders in previous years)… and I was able to complete 10 laps, which was above the average for the entire Men’s solo field
• I was able to comfortably pedal a bike on Sunday, and felt good on the Monday Shop Ride

Things that might improve my chances of future success:

• “Don’t be an idiot and blow up in the first hour… no endurance race has ever been won in the first hour... but lots have been lost”
• Drop 20 lbs

General lessons learned:

• Pedaling slow is really hard to do on awesome trails
• You get weird looks when doing jumps during an endurance event
• Despite being on a 12 foot wide gravel road virtually in sight of the finish line… there will always be some dink who feels the need to take a completely unnecessary risk, wreck another rider, and not stop to make sure they are OK.  Watch out for these people… they will stop at nothing to shave a fraction of a second off a 12 hour race and perhaps marginally improve their chances of winning a bottle of chain lube.

General thoughts on event:

• Because I've been to the 12 hours of Bradbury, it should have been no surprise that the Casco Bay Sports crew put together a fantastic event.... Nice Job Guys! 
• Trails at Millstone are awesome and are absolutely worth going to for pleasure riding.  
• Having support in the pits is awesome for these types of events!

Event Report: R.A.T.S (Ride Across Three States), By Kevin Roberge

By Kevin Roberge

It’s July 21st, past midnight and you’re walking home from a night’s celebration in Orono or perhaps Bangor.  You notice lights up ahead, though not car lights.  It’s quiet and there are a half dozen bright pinpoints of light.  They’re approaching quickly.  What is it?  A line of bicycles zip past you.  A half dozen small blinking red dots shrink into the blackness.  You look at your watch and back over your shoulder at the now barely visible blips of red.  What was that?

RATS is an acronym which stands for Ride Across Three States, the creation of Jim Rose.  A ride which begins in Orono at the shop and ends in Burlington, Vermont.  Beginning at midnight, it crosses three states, 300 miles, almost two dozen hours.  If you’ve been around the shop long enough you’ve heard of this ride as I had.  It sparked your imagination and opened up your ambitions. 

RATS isn’t a ride you take lightly.  Last fall  it was tossed around that maybe 2013 was time for another installment of RATS, the last being 2009 (when he rode it with his two sons, amoung others).  I was elated to be asked if I wanted to participate.  Would I like to try and ride 300 miles in a day?  Hells yeah!  Sounds like a great idea.

                                             Photo Credit:  Corey Odermann

The 2013 RATS was originally slated for Saturday July 20th, but was moved a day forward on account of the weather and this was fortunate.  Sunday July 21st was a beautiful day.  The temperature was in the 60’s as we shoved off from Rose Bike on Pine Street Orono.  The first bit of riding actually heads out into Old Town along Rt 2 then Rt 43 before turning around and coming back to Orono via Bennoch Road.  This is to add enough miles to make it a triple century.  Burlington is not a full 300 miles from Orono. 

Before long we were heading west, along Route 2, the road we would follow all the way to our destination.  Once out of Bangor the traffic nearly vanished and we pedaled along in relative silence, reveling in having the entire lane to ourselves. 

Six started RATS.  Jim Rose, Adam Bland, Justin Waskiewicz (a RATS veteran), Andy Young, Jeremy Bousquet and myself (Kevin Roberge).  Unfortunately by the time we reached Newport Jeremy was having trouble with his blood sugar and was forced to bow out.  It’s frustrating not being able to test your limits when an unexpected complication arises. It’s fortunate that  RATS is a supported ride meaning that we don’t have to carry everything we need, there are several vehicles that carry the food, water and clothing required.  However we usually don’t meet the support car until Farmington in order to reduce the fatigue of the drivers.  This year however the first support car was close by and was able to come to our aid.

Our ride continued.  Not long afterwards I was having trouble keeping up with the paceline. There were a lot of miles left to cover and so I decided to drop off and ride alone. This is a tricky decision as riding in a paceline (the single file group of riders you see zipping along the roads) is generally an energy efficient way to ride.  The rider in front, who is taking their turn “pulling” saves the other rides up to 30% of their effort.  If each member takes a turn at the front it means you can maintain higher speeds with less effort.

Going it alone was dispiriting to be certain and it was early in the day.  It was cold (the temperatures came down into the 50’s before dawn) and when the road dipped into low lying areas you rode through chilly fog. My spirits rose as the sky lightened and I was able to remove the light from my helmet around 430, a relief despite it’s low weight.  As the day brightened so did my mood and I began to enjoy the riding.  I like to ride alone, keeping my own company and my own pace.  Sunday mornings are quiet and it was a joy to ride through the sleeping towns along Route 2. 

Trouble rose it’s head again however as I began to feel pain in my right knee.  I don’t generally have trouble with my knee and so this was unexpected, especially so early on (before the first 100).  From Rumford to Bethel I made good time as it seemed to be all downhill (except for the uphill parts Jim would say) but my knee continued to deteriorate. 

150: the halfway point.  Except for my knee I felt fine, frustratingly fine. Andy’s parents live in Bethel and would be providing lunch and showers and then providiing another support car (the other two driven Tilan Copson and Marlyse Waskiewicz).  I decided to just keep pedaling and so made it to New Hampshire first.  This was not a competitive move.  I was moving much more slowly than the group but in rides such as these time spent standing still adds up at an alarming rate. 

My knee continued to hurt and to hurt  more.  Taking pressure off it by using my left only resulted in my left knee hurting.  On one hill I actually walked for half a mile to try and loosen it up.  It’s a small price to pay if you can actually finish the distance.  Though I was coming to realize that I may not make it to Burlington, or that if I did, I could seriously injure my knee.  The miles passed and I worked in five mile increments.  I worked towards small goals and achieved them and was continually surprised when I would catch up to the main group at the support cars.

What would your mood be like at this point?  Your training going unused as a small but crucial part of your body malfunctioned?  Surprisingly my mood continued to improve all day.  I began to realize that these distances are extremely attainable.  The day was beautiful and even as I limped up the long hills I could not resist the stunning vistas and the realization that while today may not be my day, another one would.  The group ahead of me was much faster, partly because on any day they’d be much faster and partly because of my inopportune afflction.  Despite that I continued to catch up with them tortoise and hare style.  In fact, I also managed to reach the Vermont border ahead of them.

How is this?  Let’s take a moment to look at some numbers.  Both Jim and I had our Garmin’s with us and captured a lot of information about our rides.  I ended my ride at the Vermont border with 203  miles which took a total of 15h and 37m, but I was only moving for 13h33m.  I essentially stood still for 2h04m.  Jim made it to Burlington with a total distance of 303.77 which took a total of 23h33m but only spent 17h31m moving.  That means that the group out front spent a total of 6h02m not moving. 

Suppose I could have kept going and maintaining my pace and a proportional amount of stationary time.  That would have meant, ideally, that I would have taken an additional 7h49m for a total of 23h26m.  This is pure conjecture of course, but food for thought.  Without the bum knee you could actually ride much slower (my average moving speed was 15mph versus Jim’s at 17.3mph) and arrive in Burlington before the faster group! Of course if they were more efficient they would also arrive earlier, but it’s a message to those riders out there who don’t find themselves as brisk as others.  For long distances such as these you can ride them at your own pace, you need only substitute logistics for the difference in speed and you’ll arrive all the same.

From the border of Vermont to Burlington I helped support the riders for a while before going ahead to check into the Ho-Hum Motel where Jim had reserved rooms for the night.  Darkness came after the riders left Montpelier and they rode again in the dark, hill after hill (the total elevation gain of RATS is over 14,000 feet) pulling into town around 11:30pm. 

RATS 2013 concluded that night, though a big breakfast followed the next day and much conversation about the ride.  We parted ways with Justin and Marlyse since they were actually moving from Orono to Burlington where Justin will work at the University of Vermont.  His ride having an extra quality to it as he rode from one home to a new one. 

I’m at home now, several days later, and my knee is feeling better every day.  I’m glad I quit when I did as I look forward to racing in August and also putting in more miles on the road. If nothing else RATS or my attempt at it, has only inspired me to ride more and to keep looking for challenges.

I’d like to thank again the ride support: Tilan Copson, Marlyse Waskiewicz and Andy’s Parents.