Category: pictures

Captain’s log – 5AM

Eat these
What the…? Ewww?! Kalamata olives?
Yes – each one has more sodium than a whole pickle.
Yuck?
Do you want cramps again?
No
Then eat.
But I don’t eat before I ride.
Eat!
Ok, ok.

It’s worth saying now that TheChief’s diligence with my sodium, other electrolytes, fluids, cooling, and overall nutritional intake meant I wouldn’t see cramps again for the REMAINDER of the ride.
Don’t argue with results, or your crew chief; especially when they are on the same side.
Hint: They usually are.

With 10 min to GO TIME I learned Rich was DNF.
His back was acting up, and he said later that he felt guilty for not continuing to fly the recumbent banner.
I was glad to enjoy his company and benefit from his expertise while I could. He provided more valuable knowledge as a parting shot,

After the big climb, you’ve got the descent and then at least 40 or more miles of flats, into a 15mph headwind. You should be able to make up time on the leaders there and, hell, a flat or two and you are right back in this.

With that news I was off on a 1% downgrade for the better part of 5 miles.

I started off at 150W and immediately had David and Shawn on my tail.
I felt amazingly good so I kept the power on up to an easy 160/170W and I was clipping along just shy of 30 mph.
The uprights didn’t stay on long. They sat up off my meager draft at mile 2 and were out of sight before the hills started.

I made my way to the top of the first significant climb of the morning and Shawn and David were just coming into my mirror.
I blew through some very steep descents that followed and put distance back on the leaders.

The steep short hills started and I went full granny (34/28) – [Blerp]…I dropped my chain.

WTH!!

Got it back on.
On the gas; [blerp] off again!
Back on…
…Back off.

Something is wrong.

I pulled over to fully inspect and the overall leaders climb past.
Their crews stop too and we commiserate.

I adjust my front derailer – doesn’t change much but it get’s me back on the ride, hands greasy as hell, and it seems fine – musta fixed it.
Another small descent and then back to granny low.

[Blerp] – arghhh!

This time I am alone and I somehow manage to channel a *real* bike mechanic mindset (aka common sense) and inspect the chain-line.
Bingo! One link is spread wide.
In retrospect, later than night, I realized THAT was probably the cause of my chain skipping, on the back, on day one. I forgot to look into it last night.
Drat.

TheChief comes alongside and I get a chain break but when I start to take it apart the link seats again.
I call it good and ask that she stay close for a while.

Easily a full 10 minutes behind the leaders I settle into a game of What’s My Wattage!
The climb has begun in earnest and I’m shooting for maintaining constant, unrelenting, never-ending power – 150 would be nice.
My cassette, an 11-28 designed for flatter lands, means I frequently pushed north of 200 but, on average, I came pretty close to my target.

I slogged the hill, hardly stopping, mostly on target, expecting another upright rider to pass me. It never happened.
My legs felt good, my HR was fine, and I even managed a few scant looks at the view.

Bloody hell! This is high.

During the last 10 miles of the climb (yes it is a 20+ mile climb) I split the chain again – I heard the ping on a nearly 400W hill-wobble.
[Blerp].
I called ahead to support – glad to have cell service – and walked for about seven minutes.
This time I knew what to do. Reset the pin, don’t push over 350W (shouldn’t be an issue eh?), and keep the tools with me.

It wouldn’t split again that day and before much longer, I summited the climb.

The descents now are every bit as serious as the climbs. A casual conversation with Maria on Thursday served me well. In summary, on a long fast descent, to safely shed speed; pump the rear brake three times, pump the front three times, rinse and repeat.

When I had a good view, I let her run – 50-55mph was the norm.
Without good sightlines – I rinsed and repeated and STILL hit 58mph.
The roads were well maintained, not too many bumps.
The cattle guards were usually oddly placed, bit of a buzz to the head.
The cliffs? Very shear.

Suddenly, a strange hissing noise greeted my right ear…nothing quite like the sound of depressurization, of any sort, on a very fast descent to make your heart rate climb.
Lucky for me it was just my ear canal.

Turning towards Loa; Oh look, A field full of beehives.
When have I seen…?…Oh $#!t!
There is something peculiarly unnerving about knowing you are about to enter a bee-freeway at high speeds; speeds bees don’t like.
I actually bared down on the bars, closed my mouth, and braced for impact;
4 honey bees met their Queen in the following 3 seconds.
Many hours later, TheChief plucked one out of my head-dress.

After Loa, I turned into the wind, I didn’t recognize it as “the flats” until I came upon Angle Lake.
I should have recognized it though, by the wind.
While ferocious, it was not completely debilitating as I still managed between 16-18mph most of the way.
The next morning, awaiting the start of day 3, the leaders Shawn and David told me they were experiencing the wind in a much different way.

David: Very tough and long.
Shawn: MY GOD! That was Soul crushing!
—-
David: How did you manage? Any troubles with that rear disc?
Lief: Not really, I mean yeah I noticed the wind for sure, head on like that, it certainly put me down a few pegs; between 16 and 18mph.
Shawn: Oh MY GOD…I was doing like 12! I was just angry!

So, comparitively, I made good time on the windy flats.
Oddly enough, probably my favorite section of the entire ride was this little 10 mile dogleg, with the wind!, on what felt like the smoothest, flattest, looping-est section of road all week – right in the middle of this windy ass slog – it really broke up the hard ride nicely, and ended too soon.

The only other bits to say about The Windy Flats into Panguitch were;

One – Mosquitoes
If not for TheChief I wouldn’t have known it, but the far end of Angle Lake had an insane concentration of mosquitoes.
When I stopped to request a bottle TheChief, for once and for only, lost her cool.
She couldn’t get to the tailgate without the escort of a full mosquito battalion.
She swatted and waved and kept right on moving for my sake and hers and although we were only on site for a minute while she got my fuel, she spent the next hour bringing the battalion to it’s knees in the cabin of the follow vehicle. She had more than a few bites to show for it and there were still remnants on the dash when we dropped off the rental a week later.

Two – my low point.
It was earlier in day 2 when I had finally stopped my 100% liquid (while riding) diet. I was rewarding myself with some small bites of candy and I’d tried a swig or two of different “energy” drinks – as much for the flavor and variety as anything. But sometime after the lovely dogleg, there was an ascent. Being pretty low, the sun was hot and I was at the crap-end of two days of hard riding – my most ever.
I stopped unexpectedly.

What do you need?”
I don’t know.”
uhhhh, ok – whaddya mean?”
I don’t know.”
ok?? So…yer good on water, you need some more pills, let’s change your food since you’ve stopped. Ok – so…um…Yer doing great honey!
I don’t know.
You don’t know what?
I don’t know…what to do.
How’s your wattage.
I don’t know.
Ok, I think you just need to keep on riding; Yer doing REALLY good!
Ok.

I didn’t feel ‘bad’ per se, I certainly didn’t feel good. I’ve felt worse in my life but I just didn’t…really…care.

I have tons of respect, reflecting on a moment like this, when I consider the depths plumbed by the solo riders; Ben, Maria, and the others, getting through the doldrums of a 45 hour ride. Wow.

MUCH respect.

I probably took a shot of pickle juice, TheChief smartly withheld the coffee+milk energy drink, maybe I hadda couple peanut M&M’s and I got back on the horse and just kept swimming into the wind.
I came out of my funk a few miles later and finished the last 10 miles pretty strong – I cared again.

In that last 70-80 miles, I probably gained some 40 minutes on the leaders and finished, again 3rd, 20 min behind second place.
Without my problem chain earlier in the day – it might have been closer to 10, perhaps damn-near squared-up for 2nd place. That’s good.

So, that night I had a second-rate club sandwich, another flagon of 3rd rate lemonade, a dollop of social media, and a twenty minute communal between my chain and my glutes – you know it took damn near as long to squat down on the floor as it did to break the chain and install a master-link!

I also managed a pretty terrible nights sleep – the air conditioner was SOOPER loud, I had to turn it off.
The room then got too warm, and after struggling to nod off at about 11PM I woke without an alarm at 4:30.

My strava page for stage 2

To be continued…

Before I get going – and this sucker is kinda long (sigh) – I’d like to start with some thanks.

• Thank you to Maria and Jim Parker for trusting me, in May of 2014, with a special, game-changing, treat.
• Thank you to my brother, my cousin, and my dad – as my first ‘crew’ they saw me through my first ultra-event and from that (and discussion afterward) I learned a bunch of things I applied to my training and directly to the HooDoo 500 – my longest event evahhhh!.
• Thank you to my mom, her sisters, and several other friends and family members who worry. They make me remember to be cautious and safe.
• Thank you to my many online (and a few local) biking friends, the Cruzbike Tribe, and IRTG – your advice and expertise pointed me towards so many solutions to problems I did (or would) have – I can’t even count them all.
• Thank you to my in-laws, whose home base in St. George was an absolute oasis for my family during a somewhat chaotic and anxious time (for me anyway).
• Thank you to my daughters – for putting up with my absence on many a weekend day spent riding or recovering – we watched a lot of movies. 🙂

And

• Thank you to my wife – for almost all of the above PLUS being my very own uber-attentive, self-sacrificing, and endlessly positive Crew Chief for 520 miles over three days.

Wow – you guys are awesome.
But…this isn’t an Academy Award fer cryin’ out loud so, without further ado…

The Bike

Vendetta 2.0
11 speed (11-28) cassette
Compact double Q-rings (50/34) – which I’m told is like a 52/36 during power
SRAM Rival 165mm cranks
Schwalbe ONE clinchers (latex tubes) – 110PSI each morning
Rear disc (homemade covers)
Scabinetguy special headrest cage mount (AWESOME!)
Tube, minimal tools, phone, etc in a large topeak bag
Straight drop bars
Dry weight ~25+ lbs

Rider weight 12 hrs before the race – 168lbs
Rider weight 24 hrs after the race – 173lbs

The Prologue

It may not sound like much, if you’ve not done it, but shipping a bike and the necessary supplies, with redundancy, shipped separately,
for racing over three days,
in another state…
…is a lot of effort.

I did it willingly, and I wouldn’t have missed it but, be ready – it’s work.

Lucky for me, having family only 2 miles from the start/finish line meant I had the time and a place (air conditioned auto shop) to get set up and do a couple test rides. They were my first rides in about a week.

Stage 1

At the starting line I found my way next to Rich Putich on his Bachetta CA2 and, after a grand send-off, we started on the 10 mile lead-out through town.

We hung back and started talking respective strategies in hesitant, competitive terms. I was not confident in my abilities over a course of this magnitude; I mostly wanted to make a good showing and not bonk or be pitiful in any way. Recumbents can climb.
Rich had pre-driven the course and had well-thought-out plans in place to change his wheels quickly to suit the terrain – namely aero (disc) wheels for the flats and descents and lighter wheels for the climbs. It’s probably a good idea to pre-drive a course if it’s new to you – his knowledge of what was coming was a boon.

My general idea was to maintain an average of 150-160 watts and stop less frequently. I thought reducing my total stoppage time and lowering my typical “training” wattage output my overall time would be better over the course of three days.

When the 10 mile lead-out was over, the “race” began, Rich surged with two strong looking upright riders, Shawn and David, and made his way to the front. I latched on and settled into 4th place. After trading pulls with Rich, at the first real hill I was in front. Shawn told David, “go ahead and pass them now – I think we can climb faster”.

I’m not gonna lie – he was right – and it was exactly what I didn’t want to happen.

As Shawn and David slowly pulled away from us I resolved to maintain my wattage and endurance targets. I fully expected the remainder of the field to catch up.
Just then Rich spoke my thoughts out loud “We’ll catch them on the 40 miles of flats to come.”

I felt reassured until, moments later, I realized I didn’t have any electrolytes – I suddenly didn’t feel reassured.
I’d have to get some from TheChief at the 90 minute mark.

Rich and I tried settling into a pattern of 3 min pulls and I considered modifying my bottle exchanges to every hour to match his. I thought if our stop times were synchronized it would increase our ability to work together and decrease stops, but I maintained 2 hour slots as good enough.

TheChief and I muffed our first-ever handoff. Note: practicing hand-offs was on the list but was never done. Racing/crewing rookies should always practice this skill ahead of time. Probably take about 5-10 min to get good enough. During the race, it took probably 5 or 6 attempts (that’s about 7-8 hours of a race day) to get good enough – by day three though…we were machines.

A slow-ish handoffs and a hill – Rich pulled ahead.
A change to his aero-wheels – I pulled ahead.
Second verse, same as the first.
We merged up again just as Shawn and David appeared on the horizon.

A couple of harder pulls (210W in front, 170W in back) brought us up to 300 yards and Rich went to the front so we’d intentionally blow past them at 260W/220W at ~30mph. We agreed they shouldn’t be able to latch on.
Leaving them behind with about 20 miles of flats to go I noticed that that my cassette was erratically skipping, half-shifting. Enough to be bothersome – but not problematic.
I’d check it out that night.

Near mile 60 I started feeling twinges and cramps – Not a good sign.
Rich was riding strong but I had to back off and do some cramp management; soft-pedaling.

Based on a tip from the day before TheChief had stocked a jar of pickles and a visine-sized dropper of sea water. By the time I hit mile 80 I felt pretty bad. Rich had taken a sizeable lead and I was getting overheated. My legs were cramping in front and also in my hamstrings. TheChief insisted that I increase my salt intake by 2-3 times. I stretched a bit and after only a 5 min break Shawn and David passed me by.

I viewed that as the beginning of the end of being competitive.

10 miles later I’d again bridged up to Rich and we reeled Shawn and David right back in – at the start of the major climb of the day. Shawn and David took a wrong turn so Rich and I took the lead up the hill – for about 20 minutes. Rich pulled away from me and when Shawn and David passed me they looked like a million bucks. I felt like a mangy dog but amazingly my cramps were beginning to flat-line.

I rode patiently and waited for the inevitable DF riders from behind to catch me on this long, uphill slog.
To maintain any speed I was pushing ~180W and I was sure I wouldn’t last.
I backed off a bit further.

My memory is hazy in here but I remember catching up to Rich again, my cramps nearly resolved, somewhere between 130 and 160.
I noticed on some descents that I thought I might be rolling faster than him but couldn’t be sure.

Rich said the most brutal climb of day one was pending and he thought we wouldn’t catch the leaders that day.
His crew chief confirmed; we were an astounding 13-17 miles behind the leaders – wow.
Further, we were perhaps that far in front of the next racer – WOW!

We rode the Bryce Canyon uphill rollers together and kibitzed (between gasps) about recumbents and the view. Rich pulled ahead at the end of the Bryce Canyon trail and it took an effort to retrieve him.

Nearing mile 180 we agreed to finish together, neither of us felt like “racing” the other one up the hill.

We rode together until I couldn’t maintain his spinning pace with my 11-28 cassette.
Rich had, early that morning, graciously offered his spare 11-36 cassette to me but it wasn’t plausible at this point because that alteration would require more chain, a longer derailer, and a 10sp shifter.

I’d resolved to suffer the steeps my way.

In the last 5 miles of the climb I put a bit of distance on Rich – I was still pushing about 170W to maintain 6 mph and, thanks to Seargent Sodium (Chemical element NaZi), my cramps were gone.
My quads were straining and when I came to the final grade, between 10% and 14% (depending on your source) I was needing 300W at 60RPM for 5mph.

I figured burning that match now wouldn’t help the next two days so I walked the last half mile at 2.8mph. Heart rate, 150bpm.
When I crested, Rich’s chief told me he was walking with his girlfriend about 1/2 mile back and I said I would wait for him.

You don’t have to do that.
It’s ok – we made an agreement.
Really?! – Oh kay?

I waited about 10 minutes and when Rich crested the top we rolled out together.
He said,

I thought you’d give up on me?
It’s ok. I try to do what I say. Besides – some things are bigger than one stage of one race.
Well, I’ll hang back at the end and give you the stage as a gesture.
Cool! Thanks.

We proceeded to coast down the remaining 17 miles into Escalante enjoying the view, hardly pedaling and easily maintaining speeds in the mid thirties.

I was rolling faster and further than Rich (just a touch more aero) and with a couple miles to go I engaged the pedals briefly only to find that my legs felt like they’d been hammered flat – to the bone. They only felt good now when they were moving so I soft pedaled at 100W-120W and put a minute or so on Rich, I rolled in about 19:30, 20 min behind second place David and 40 min behind the leader Shawn.

All day I ran a 95% liquid diet of Perpetuem at 270 calories per hour. But NOW I was off the bike so…
I enjoyed an excellent turkey club, a whole pitcher of lemonade, some potassium fries, a few posts to social media, some deep stretching, and BINGO! I was asleep hard by 10:30, hoping I’d be ok for day two.

My strava page for (most of) Stage 1

My strava page for (the rest of) Stage 1

To be continued…

En Route
With a 250 mile drive to the start I finally had time to review my plans for fuel with The Nutritionist. I had 8 pre-measured baggiesºº, each with a 2 hour dose of fuel (Hammer Perpetuem) 270 cal / hour. It seems right to call it fuel because it’s not really food as much as it is watery pancake batter that tastes like a mocha shake. I had a bottle of Endurolytesºº for electrolyte replenishment and a 70 oz bladder (front pack) for hydration. I only have one bottle holder setup on the bike – I use it for my pancake fuel and I was going all day with nothing but that.

The plan developed into beginning the day, 80 miles of mostly flat, with a 4 hour bottle of fuel and a full bladder of water. Then, before the climb, dump the weight of the extra water and switch to a 1 or 2 hour bottle of fuel and water together – depending on the conditions – for both weight savings and perhaps aero-improvements. Also, I decided to warm up on the ride. This was an “educated decision” I made after discussing the benefits of a pre-race warm-upºº with other riders. Our math showed a maximum ~4-5min time savings; not sufficient to warrant the hassle of the trainer at the start.

Other than a few small shots of anticipation adrenaline on the drive to the start line, a short stop for zinc oxide for my schnoz, a brief visit to the border area, and a couple of authentic meals, we were bedded down about 9:30, ready for a 3AM wake-up call and a 4:30AM start.
Unexpectedly, I was as calm as a cucumber and slept like a baby. I wondered briefly if I wasn’t taking this seriously enough but I fell asleep to fast to hear my answer – the next morning I found my answer.
It’s a little known law called The Conservation of Adrenaline: Whereby the total amount of adrenaline in any given system stays constant and is neither created nor destroyed. However, I’ve found that it can be concentrated in one place and it turns out, this time, it was concentrated in my Crew Chief. He woke up first and said, with barely bated breath
“You’d think I was doing this ride!!”

He was amped. Too bad he wouldn’t have any physical outlet for all that energy for the rest of the day.

Early morning preparations were uneventful – the team, a human clockworks. I realized about 4AM that I’d outfitted my bike for riding – not carrying on the rack. So we made the first alteration of the day; I’d warm up on the 4 mile ride to the start. Not a problem – and it wasn’t.

The Start
The whole thing at the start went way too fast and before I knew it I was bombing down the road. The early morning in the Okanogan highlands was serene with the occasional in-n-out town flying by and the frequent chirping Western Meadowlarks. The only disturbance came at the end of a good first hour on the bike when I met up with a young deer out for his morning constitutional. After a sharp warning honk from my follow vehicle, and rather than just watch me roll by, the gentleman deer opted to run right towards me.

My years spent dodging erratic tourists on the Seattle waterfront must have served me well in this case. I carried my pace until the last appropriate moment then braked hard when the confused beast leapt about 8-10 feet in front of me, over the guardrail, clanging his ankle hard on the metal.

From the follow vehicle, it must have appeared MUCH closer, and I’m told several grey hairs sprouted.

The next two and a half hours went by quickly. As the sun rose so did the tail wind and so did my pace. By the time I made it to Bridgeport, at mile 80, I had a very fast century brewing – in retrospect perhaps a bit too fast – at the time I was energized and spoiling for a fight up to Coulee City..

We followed the plan and dumped weight. Mostly I ditched my front pack with about 20 oz of water left, extra lights, applied my first batch of sunscreen – the sun was getting intense – and then switched to one bottle with 1 hours worth of fuel and 1 hours worth of water. It was a perfect plan – until it wasn’t.

This was also when I was beginning to have inklings of cramps – I proactively stretched here and got back on the road. This section of road is a twisty, no passing zone so The Navigator stayed close – but it soon seemed to flatten out and while the 1/4 tailwind remained brisk (~10+mph) I motored along jamming to whatever heavy metal songs came into my head.

Wind, The Good Kind
I held a torrid pace from mile 90 through ~110 with some sections going up a 1% grade at 160 watts at speeds over 26mph. Doing the math in my head, and knowing I was nearly done with “the climb” I could foresee an 11 hour finish.
Some of these sections I was cranking my heart over at 160bpm – which is too high for me in such a long race – but I was anticipating an easier time of it on the “downhill” after Coulee City where I could spend some time recovering.
And there were some minor cramps, and I managed them well enough with electrolytes, alternative pedaling techniquesºº, and both on-bikeºº and rest-time stretches. It was during this section however that I got the first whiff of the psychological effects that were to come.

While I felt pretty good in body, the long straight continually uphill section stretched very VERY far into the distance and it was disheartening to see that much road, that many false tops, for that many miles stretched out in plain view.

I expected the downhill segment to come at any moment, for about 5 or 6 miles. And then when it did, I pumped my fist and then immediately wished it hadn’t.

Wind, The Scary Kind
This was the most scared I’ve been on a bike. If memory serves the “hill” sign read 6% for 4 miles? But the grade of the road was well matched by the undulating rock-faces and overwhelmed by the suddenly shifty turns of the wind. I was leaning 10º to the left one minute, 10º to the right the next, and being blown all over the lane. Every sideways gust moved me so hard and so suddenly to the side that my tires felt like they’d rolled over the rim. All of this was about 11:AM with a blaring sun in my face and speeds around 40mph; well-braked.

I had hoped to relax my legs a bit on this portion but it was all I could do to keep from cramping from the white knuckle tension of it all.

I was happy to arrive at the bottom, at the intersection with Hwy 2. The worst was over but there was a bit more to come in what turned out to be almost too beautiful to be scared of. Descending into the Sun Lakes, with the striations in the rock and the beautiful canyon bottom laid out before me, – it was epic. I took pictures with my mind.

These are samples of what I saw.
Dryfalls.jpg
SunLakes 360degrees

I remember a particularly narrow stretch leaving this section right next to Lenore Lake. It was a no passing zone and the follow vehicle was only allowed to block so many cars on the highway before pulling over and allowing them to pass. While this was a VERY tight section, as far as I could tell, all of the drivers were respectful and patient with my effort. Thanks be to them.

After that, it was Moses Lake – the busiest section of the state so far in my day. This is where I encountered the only other cyclist of my trip, going the wrong way in a bike lane on the road through town with a dog on a long leash running 10 feet to his right.

Leaving the last light in that town I really began to notice the sun, my idea of one-bottle with both food and water combined, took on a level of complication I hadn’t anticipated. I was needing proportionally more water and perhaps less calories than I was consuming in that bottle – so first I had The Nutritionist back off to about 200 calories per bottle and by the time I was halfway between Othello and Mesa I was down to about 180 calories per bottle. But they weren’t hour long bottles anymore – they were “as needed” bottles because of the water situation. And it was impossible now to know how long it had been since I’d consumed ~270 calories – and to further complicate the matter I was slowing down – putting out less watts, using less calories, and it was hot. In the future, I shall remember to insist on ‘modularity’. Keeping fuel, water, and electrolytes separated so they can be tuned (and tracked) to the evolving situation more effectively.

It was just after Moses Lake where I got my first serious douse of water – all over my body, and I’m not sure much else has felt that good. But suddenly I was freezing; for about 10 minutes, the wind was so fast and the air was so dry that evaporative cooling was quite literally too effective.

Side note; I wonder what it will be like in August in Southern Utah? I’ll worry about that more later.

So, the hours preceding the turn off (onto 395) were pretty much a hot mess of incongruous fuel and water intake with a reduced average wattage output hovering around 135W. Somewhere along here my follow vehicle disappeared for a few minutes and I found out later that they were pulled over by a state patrol officer who warned us/them that I ought to ride all the way to the right, on the far side of the rumble strip, for safety sake. The follow vehicle should follow suit whenever possible.

The Real Wind, The Bad Kind
The final stretch started just past Mesa.
I was 2 hours away from the overall record still thinking the overall was *just* within reach.
This was now the furthest I’d ever ridden in one shot (205mi) and it was supposed to be “all downhill from here”. So I turned gamely onto the 25 mile section of 70mph freeway, pointed right into the strongest winds of the day; and held her steady at ohhhhh, about 13mph.

My cramping, which was constant but manageable up to that point began moving around my legs front to back and side to side as I tried to maintain any semblance of a pace. My fueling mistakes (or at least not knowing how much water/fuel/electrolytes I was consuming) was probably contributing to my slowdown but the biggest external factor was the wind, I saw it pegging a windsock in a field, the 20+mph indicator, pointed right at me; maybe coming as much as 15º from the right.

Then I remember the heat, the tar in the seams of the road was soft and I’d wobble every time I ran up on one. My crew was freaking out. Every time I tried to avoid a seam, a spark-plug, or other detritus it seemed I timed it well with a passing dualie truck with extra-wide mirrors. Plus, I was dwindling. My power was down around 110W, my Vastus Medialus muscle (the roundy one inside/above your knee) was perpetually sore, my big toes (of all things) were crying with what felt like frost-bite whenever I pushed over 150W and the heat; did I mention the heat?

And what the hell is this climb doing here?
I downshifted and dumped my chain.

I stopped – corrected it quick and just kinda walked a little bit but found that The Psychologist was right at my side just as quick.

What’s wrong?
I lost my chain.
uhhhhh – it looks fine.
Yeah – I fixed it already.
ooookay – The Official wants to know how you are feeling? You are wobbling a lot and we’re all nervous. Are you are getting wacky in the head?
No – I’m just avoiding the tar strips.
How about we switch your water bottles since we are stopped.
Ok – wait, NO! wait….Ok

It was then that I sat back on the bike and laid my forehead on the top tube and felt a sudden change in blood pressure. He came back with a bottle of fuel and water and I asked for some water on my head – or maybe he did – I don’t remember but it felt glorious, then it was done.
It felt like more.

He returned with the 5 gallon jug and just opened the spigot on my legs and my neck and my head and my back.
That…felt…glorious.
But I was spent, physically and emotionally and I didn’t want to move. I peed right there where I stood and he just rinsed me off.
I still had more than 30 miles left but just an hour to get there for the overall record – that was a disheartening realization.
The Psychologist My brother was reading my thoughts.

Ok so, that guys record is out of reach now ok?
Ok.
So, just don’t worry about it anymore alright; – just survive.”
Alright

That worked on my brain but I didn’t have any extra anything in my body – just enough.
I didn’t feel like riding just then so I walked a few steps, maybe 30. But it felt unnatural.
So I got back on the bike and despite how I felt only minutes earlier I remember specifically just how comfortable that felt to settle back into the pouch of that bike. What a great ride.

I petered meekly over the top of this small yet tough hill and began a 30mph descent.
I felt a little better for it and noticed some girls advertising a car wash with the big signs on the side of the road ahead.
My, that is a strange place for a car wash?
Funny, they have a Prius just like mine?
Whoa! That sign has my name on it?!
Hey! Those are MY girls!

GO DADDY! GO!
GO DADDY! GO!

Incredulity came up suddenly from the bottom of my now slow boil.
I rolled by at the bottom of the hill slow enough to see all of their faces but too fast to think of anything to say.

They weren’t supposed to be there today. We decided!
They were going to have a weekend playing with animals, and they chose instead to drive 4 hours away to pull me through the last 30 miles.

That’s when I cried – and it just felt right.

This wasn’t the appropriate time, like say the finish? But instead, at the moment of my lowest low of the day I was suddenly flipped into my highest psychological high, alone on my bike. I would have sworn that my pace suddenly sprang back to life like The Grinch on the mountaintop but the numbers don’t lie. I was only right back to where I’d been 30 min before ~120W. Instead it was my mindset that flipped. It got a sudden tune up and I was set; resolved to finish hard now no matter what – it wasn’t even a question.

The bridge over the Snake River? I got it – my girls were here.
Another little climb – there are my girls cheering again.

Suddenly my brother yells out –
“One mile left!”

I can see the end, but it’s still too far away to see my Mermaids.

So I start belting out my old standby, the Rocky theme song, and my power skyrockets up to 220W, my heart rate peaks at a magnificent 138, and I’m tearing along the flats at 19mph!

Doesn’t matter, I’m done, rolling through the finish with my cheering section and honking horns behind me.

I stopped, got off the bike and WOW! my legs don’t really work right.
We get pictures and my crew tells me it was 12h 29m – but that was bad math and a while later we find out that the time comes to 12h 28m once The Official did the math on the numbers he logged in the book.

I won’t lie – My vastus medialus muscles took a beating and I was a cooked-noodle for two solid days. I estimate I started at ~169lbs and ended somewhere close to ~155lbs – a weight that harkens back to high-school days.
But now nearly two weeks later I’m back on my regularly scheduled commutes, pretty hard training sessions, and I begin my planning for the STP in July and The HooDoo 500 in August.

Is that supposed to be hot?

I recently found a map I had saved of a bicycle route across Washington from Canada, in the north to the south Washington border with Oregon. That map was saved in Nov 2010 and coincides closely with my purchase of a Cruzbike Silvio 1.0.
This was a route across Washington, a record established and tracked by the UltraMarathon Cycling Association (UMCA) and I thought to myself ‘with this bike I could just about pull that off.’ But I never mentioned my fantasy of actually riding this route, let alone getting it officially recorded, to anyone. At least not seriously.

It’s a crazy and, for many people, unreasonable thing. Why would someone ride their bike for 12 hours, alone, as hard as they can, over there? But the fantasy persisted below the surface. ‘Ya know,’ I said to myself on many a morning commute, ‘there isn’t even a recumbent record established.’ – so what did I have to lose really?

Still it was too out there.

Then I took trusteeship of a Cruzbike Vendetta 2.0 and felt serious power and speed – whoa. Yeah…that unreasonable thing? It bubbled right up to the surface and boiled hard.

While my “base” of riding has been established over many years of commuting, I’ve done a handful of centuries and a couple of STP’s but only in the past 4-5 months have I learned well enough and trained hard enough to make this unreasonable thing actually happen.

And this isn’t a “simple ride report” because it was a team effort on a scale and scope that none of us had previously undertaken. And – as a point of interest – when you see these marksºº in the following text, recognize that as something I’ve only recently learned. This illustrates either a contribution made by friends and riders from all over the world (not joking) OR what comes from a focused dedication and commitment to an effort; it wasn’t much more than the time needed for experimentation, an open mind, and oh, an unreasonable thing on a rolling boil.

So, I coordinated a three man crewºº.

My cousin was The Official. He and I agreed to trade services; this July I’ll be his wingman on his first ever Seattle To Portland challenge. He told me about one week before my ride,

I’m not pulling any punches you know; I want to see you do well of course but I represent the UMCA and I will act accordingly. I’m taking this serious.

That gave me an adrenaline hit (and goosebumps as I write it) – perfect.

My Dad was The Crew Chief and navigation – he has an insanely good sense of direction, good mechanical awareness of my bikes, nearly as many years commuting by bike as I do, and (at the time I recruited him) a relatively open schedule. Lucky for me his new gig was flexible enough to allow him the day off. He and I learned a lot on a dry-run century a couple weeks earlierºº.
Oh yeah, and he’s pretty protective too.

My Brother’s role was a more nebulous, ‘rider support’. I thought of it as primarily nutrition and psychology. Despite the fact that our paths cross infrequently these days I don’t know that there is anyone who might understand and complement the layers and folds of my motivation better than him. Why I might care, when I don’t care, what might make me try harder, and what doesn’t work.

For Motivation
Several weeks before the ride I did the math on just the driving portion and came to about 26 hours in the car spread out over three days – I told them all they could bail now if they want, this was going to be an overlarge investment in time and tediousness. My brother replied with one sentence:

Take your protein pills and put your helmet on.

Annnnnd that was an adrenaline hit; two months early.

For Psychology
When we were very young I urged him to dare me to swat a honeybee because I just knew I was faster than that bee. (another unreasonable thing?) He wouldn’t cave and I swatted anyway – I got stung. I think I’ve learned to listen to his reasoning better in the past 30 years but, I thought, it’s ok – this isn’t a huge deal mentally, it’s only like 13 hours on the bike, how much psychological help could I possibly need?

Skipping forward to the Thursday night before the race on Saturday – I had weeks of planning and preparation already in hand. So much in fact that on that night I had ‘free’ time riding on top of a mild foreboding.

Was I missing something big?
Perhaps I should have had that full overhaul?
What if I had a cable failure?
If I DID have to use my spare 10sp wheel, would it work well enough with that 11sp chain?
I tried it once but…I could have done more testing.
I’ve only ridden briefly in this past week; was that too much rest?ºº

I’m not much of a worrier and I pushed it all aside reminding myself that my list was complete and well consideredºº and besides, changing anything at this late hourºº was not a good idea. So, per advice from the indomitable Maria Parker, I made time for a good night’s sleep that night, expecting not to have much, or any, on RaceDay eve.ºº

The next morning, Friday, I reviewed all of our in-vehicle arrangements with my Crew Chief. We hugged my Mermaids good-bye and in a way I was bummed that they wouldn’t be able to share this with me. We concluded pretty early on that a long boring drive, with two kids, a dog, all that sweaty stank, and no “facilities” isn’t exactly their cup of tea. I couldn’t blame them – I tended to bail on Dance Conventions and epic feats of ‘playing house’ myself – this just isn’t their thing.

So, the Crew Chief and I drove over, picked up The Official, and arrived at the train station 10 min early to receive The Nutritionist. By noon – we were on our way.

(to be continued)