Confessions of a Manic Cyclist

June 2006 - Posts

• The E100 12 Hour

  Wow.  Did that really happen?  Somebody pinch me. Time is tight, so the abbreviated version will have to suffice. Cutting to the chase:  I overcame many problems during the race, came on strong at the end, and won in nail-biting fashion of the same ilk as the 3rd place Moab finish last year.  Competition was deep with 50+ solo men at the start line. Doubling the sweet factor was Lynda's ride.  She rode to her potential yesterday (maybe??) and finished 4th solo overall with an astounding 13 laps.  Her 13th lap was the fastest of any solo rider (there were 4 to complete 13, 1 to complete 14, ahem!). Lynda told me before the start she was going to shadow me on the run.  I had planned to hit it hard enough to be near the front to avoid bottlenecks.  It turned out to be alot easier than either of us expected and we both slowed a bit towards the middle of the run - no need to be greedy and take the hole shot, eh?  We entered the singletrack in the 3rd and 4th positions.  Lynda was so psyched to be out of the way of traffic, "how was that Dave?!"  That was the last I saw of her until about lap 12... The opening singletrack near the start finish: I had a look at the (long!) start list before the event.  I recognized 3 names in there that I knew were very strong.  One of them, Josh Tostado, had a golden year in '05.  He came out on top at every endurance event he entered and set a course record at Montezuma.  It was going to be a challenging day. Lap 1 started well enough, but became hellish.  I about nailed a runner around a hidden in the trail and got a fine "feck you" in return.  Ah yes, Park City's love/hate relationship with mountain bikers.  That fella ain't gonna be happy when NORBA rolls into town.  Shortly thereafter, I was JRA when some guy is yelling at me telling me I shortcut the course...then a couple others chimed in.  It turned out the course was a little different in one section from last year, and I was on last years course rails.  Crap.  So I had to turn around, watch the leaders ride off, and go find that corner I missed.  I just kept telling myself that 12 hours is a long time so don't sweat it & did my best to shake it off.  Rather than tear off after them and try to regain contact, I chose to settle into my own pace. All the while, my legs didn't feel good at all.  With Steamboat 2 weeks ago, and an overly aggressive training plan between then and now, I was feeling the effects.  Then on lap 4, my right hip joint began to provide the sharpest pain imaginable.  Simply finishing was in question at that point.  During this time, I was riding with Thane Wright, one of the 3 on my radar screen, and he was riding amazingly strong.  At one point, he yelled "c'mon Dave, let's work together!", to which I told him he was on his own.  I watched him ride off...and began pounding vitamin I in the next pit. The next several hours were JRA.  Crusing along, biding my time, waiting for the vitamin I to do it's thing, and saving some juice for a late race charge.  It was my only hope. Anna ran the pit to precision.  I told her before the race what the plan was, and also that the leader may get as much as 20 minutes on me my by lap 9.  If he could hold, he deserved the win.  But I was betting he wouldn't, whoever he turned out to be.  I did this race last year and recall how hard the final 5 hours are...and he who has upwards momentum in the final hours had the upper hand.  At the lap 9 pit, Anna yelled at me, jolting my lumbering buttocks into action:  "Harris, Josh is 14 minutes ahead of you.  Get your a$$ moving!!!"  Anna being the soft spoken gal she is, she's never spoken to me like that.  I left the pits covered in goose bumps. The next time through I had gained 2 minutes, cutting the lead to 12 minutes.  I'd also moved into 2nd - the last I heard I was in 4th.  These chase laps were going beautifully, the energy was tip-top, the legs feeling great, and the flow was with me.  There were a few places I had to brake on climbs.  The next pit I cut the lead to 9 minutes, then 4 minutes heading out on the lucky 13th.  4 minutes...I could do it.  Problem was, I had to pee so bad...it took 50 seconds.  Finally, near the top of the final climb, there's Josh, about 20 seconds up the trail around a switchback.  He recognized me and dug deep, giving it everything.  It was apparent I wasn't going to catch him as he held onto his 20 second advantage, and let me tell ya I considered the foolishness of my 50 second pee stop...Greg always says if you're in that situation ya gotta pee your chammy.  Well Greg, I did try...you'll understand when you're over 40. Coming into the s/f for the 13th lap, I was immensely satisfied with my effort, even if I fell 20 seconds short of the win.  The big question was, what time was it?  Was I going to make the cuttoff for a 14th lap?  I asked the timing crew, and Emma, Boris' daughter, said "you have time for another lap Dave, you can do it!"  I'll be damned.  The fat lady ain't sung her final note yet.  Anna rushed me out of the pits, second bike all set up with fluids and such, and it was game time.  I hit the first climb hard and gave it everything that was left.  I was cracking by now and as worked as could be - but I left the pits before Josh did and had the lead.  I didn't want him to get a visual on me on that first climb - if I was out of sight, I'd be nothing but a ghost...on the long descent on the backside, I caught Lynda.  She was riding like she had been since lap 5...ticking off 57 min laps like clockwork.  She was so strong on the climbs, I couldn't hang with her at the end of the race.  Can you say impressed? I finished up that lap, totally spent, breathing hard, elated by the effort and the result.  One of the hardest earned wins I can recall, especially given the additional issues to work through - made it all the sweeter.  Mandatory bike carry!  To my surprise, Jason Sager made an appearance to see the finale too.  It was great to see  him...and he saw a side of me that only comes out (thankfully) about once every year or so, but there's usually alcohol involved.  My girly stick arms could get the bike up to my helmet, no higher ;)  Worked! I later learned Josh never went out for a 14th lap.  Stories differ as to why, but it didn't much matter while I was out there on #14.  It felt like the grim reaper was on my tail.  Epic. By rides end I had racked up something over 18,000 feet of climbing, 140 miles, finishing 1st overall solo and 5th overall (including teams).  I finished on the same lap as the winning team (which if I'm reading the results correctly was a coed duo team - Chris and his wife from Mad Dog Cycles - they were both wicked fast and on 29ers!), about 25 minutes back.  Not a bad day's ride. Today is another story.  That bum hip?  Frozen up tight as a drum, you can call me the gimp. Other highlights were meeting a lot of folks who know me (I think?) through this blog.  It was a pleasure to meet ya, and if you gave a shout out thanks so much.  Boris, your events are just first class.  Thanks for making it happen and I really look forward to your next event. Lynda & I have allowed ourself to daydream a time or two about how cool a it'd be if we both won at the same event.  I'm thinking this bodes well for TransRockies.  It's a dream no longer. Technorati Tags: Cycling [link] Posted Jun 25 2006, 08:56 PM by daveharris with no comments

• The E100 12 Hour

  Wow.  Did that really happen?  Somebody pinch me. Time is tight, so the abbreviated version will have to suffice. Cutting to the chase:  I overcame many problems during the race, came on strong at the end, and won in nail-biting fashion of the same ilk as the 3rd place Moab finish last year.  Competition was deep with 50+ solo men at the start line. Doubling the sweet factor was Lynda's ride.  She rode to her potential yesterday (maybe??) and finished 4th solo overall with an astounding 13 laps.  Her 13th lap was the fastest of any solo rider (there were 4 to complete 13, 1 to complete 14, ahem!). Lynda told me before the start she was going to shadow me on the run.  I had planned to hit it hard enough to be near the front to avoid bottlenecks.  It turned out to be alot easier than either of us expected and we both slowed a bit towards the middle of the run - no need to be greedy and take the hole shot, eh?  We entered the singletrack in the 3rd and 4th positions.  Lynda was so psyched to be out of the way of traffic, "how was that Dave?!"  That was the last I saw of her until about lap 12... The opening singletrack near the start finish: I had a look at the (long!) start list before the event.  I recognized 3 names in there that I knew were very strong.  One of them, Josh Tostado, had a golden year in '05.  He came out on top at every endurance event he entered and set a course record at Montezuma.  It was going to be a challenging day. Lap 1 started well enough, but became hellish.  I about nailed a runner around a hidden in the trail and got a fine "feck you" in return.  Ah yes, Park City's love/hate relationship with mountain bikers.  That fella ain't gonna be happy when NORBA rolls into town.  Shortly thereafter, I was JRA when some guy is yelling at me telling me I shortcut the course...then a couple others chimed in.  It turned out the course was a little different in one section from last year, and I was on last years course rails.  Crap.  So I had to turn around, watch the leaders ride off, and go find that corner I missed.  I just kept telling myself that 12 hours is a long time so don't sweat it & did my best to shake it off.  Rather than tear off after them and try to regain contact, I chose to settle into my own pace. All the while, my legs didn't feel good at all.  With Steamboat 2 weeks ago, and an overly aggressive training plan between then and now, I was feeling the effects.  Then on lap 4, my right hip joint began to provide the sharpest pain imaginable.  Simply finishing was in question at that point.  During this time, I was riding with Thane Wright, one of the 3 on my radar screen, and he was riding amazingly strong.  At one point, he yelled "c'mon Dave, let's work together!", to which I told him he was on his own.  I watched him ride off...and began pounding vitamin I in the next pit. The next several hours were JRA.  Crusing along, biding my time, waiting for the vitamin I to do it's thing, and saving some juice for a late race charge.  It was my only hope. Anna ran the pit to precision.  I told her before the race what the plan was, and also that the leader may get as much as 20 minutes on me my by lap 9.  If he could hold, he deserved the win.  But I was betting he wouldn't, whoever he turned out to be.  I did this race last year and recall how hard the final 5 hours are...and he who has upwards momentum in the final hours had the upper hand.  At the lap 9 pit, Anna yelled at me, jolting my lumbering buttocks into action:  "Harris, Josh is 14 minutes ahead of you.  Get your a$$ moving!!!"  Anna being the soft spoken gal she is, she's never spoken to me like that.  I left the pits covered in goose bumps. The next time through I had gained 2 minutes, cutting the lead to 12 minutes.  I'd also moved into 2nd - the last I heard I was in 4th.  These chase laps were going beautifully, the energy was tip-top, the legs feeling great, and the flow was with me.  There were a few places I had to brake on climbs.  The next pit I cut the lead to 9 minutes, then 4 minutes heading out on the lucky 13th.  4 minutes...I could do it.  Problem was, I had to pee so bad...it took 50 seconds.  Finally, near the top of the final climb, there's Josh, about 20 seconds up the trail around a switchback.  He recognized me and dug deep, giving it everything.  It was apparent I wasn't going to catch him as he held onto his 20 second advantage, and let me tell ya I considered the foolishness of my 50 second pee stop...Greg always says if you're in that situation ya gotta pee your chammy.  Well Greg, I did try...you'll understand when you're over 40. Coming into the s/f for the 13th lap, I was immensely satisfied with my effort, even if I fell 20 seconds short of the win.  The big question was, what time was it?  Was I going to make the cuttoff for a 14th lap?  I asked the timing crew, and Emma, Boris' daughter, said "you have time for another lap Dave, you can do it!"  I'll be damned.  The fat lady ain't sung her final note yet.  Anna rushed me out of the pits, second bike all set up with fluids and such, and it was game time.  I hit the first climb hard and gave it everything that was left.  I was cracking by now and as worked as could be - but I left the pits before Josh did and had the lead.  I didn't want him to get a visual on me on that first climb - if I was out of sight, I'd be nothing but a ghost...on the long descent on the backside, I caught Lynda.  She was riding like she had been since lap 5...ticking off 57 min laps like clockwork.  She was so strong on the climbs, I couldn't hang with her at the end of the race.  Can you say impressed? I finished up that lap, totally spent, breathing hard, elated by the effort and the result.  One of the hardest earned wins I can recall, especially given the additional issues to work through - made it all the sweeter.  Mandatory bike carry!  To my surprise, Jason Sager made an appearance to see the finale too.  It was great to see  him...and he saw a side of me that only comes out (thankfully) about once every year or so, but there's usually alcohol involved.  My girly stick arms could get the bike up to my helmet, no higher ;)  Worked! I later learned Josh never went out for a 14th lap.  Stories differ as to why, but it didn't much matter while I was out there on #14.  It felt like the grim reaper was on my tail.  Epic. By rides end I had racked up something over 18,000 feet of climbing, 140 miles, finishing 1st overall solo and 5th overall (including teams).  I finished on the same lap as the winning team (which if I'm reading the results correctly was a coed duo team - Chris and his wife from Mad Dog Cycles - they were both wicked fast and on 29ers!), about 25 minutes back.  Not a bad day's ride. Today is another story.  That bum hip?  Frozen up tight as a drum, you can call me the gimp. Other highlights were meeting a lot of folks who know me (I think?) through this blog.  It was a pleasure to meet ya, and if you gave a shout out thanks so much.  Boris, your events are just first class.  Thanks for making it happen and I really look forward to your next event. Lynda & I have allowed ourself to daydream a time or two about how cool a it'd be if we both won at the same event.  I'm thinking this bodes well for TransRockies.  It's a dream no longer. Posted Jun 25 2006, 08:56 PM by Dave

• The Ultimate Goal

  So what is this nonesense all about, anyway?  Why race bikes? For me, the first MTB ride was a fluke on a borrowed bike up the mountain behind the rafting company I worked at the time.  The goal was to see the view from the top - I'd always been drawn to the outdoors and high places in particular, logging many miles of hiking and climbing in Arizona's "sky islands" in my teens and early twenties.  The ride itself was most painful, and I walked a good bit.  I basically sucked. Then I discovered Crested Butte, where one could cover so much territory by bike.  Revelation!  I was hooked for life.  Later that year, friends wouldn't ride with me anymore and told me I needed to race these things.  Certainly, racing holds it's own competitive flow & draw, but the typical XC race isn't exactly a great way to get "out there".  It did, however, provide the motivation to improve skills to new levels... Fast forward to 2003.  I (re)discovered the joy of epic rides, the being "out there" aspect, the hours upon hours of aerobic effort and the clear-mindedness that results, nearly meditation.  Dang, there are 100 mile races out there?  24 hour solo events?  It was a whole new world, the sport of cycling keeps evolving and presenting new opportunities and challenges. This year has seen more revelations.  KTR was an eye-opening experience.  142 miles self-supported through desert and mountain with a midnight start, who'da thunk it?  An interesting format, with it's basis firmly tied to mountain bikings original code of self-sufficiency.  I've been fascinated with the concept of doing the Grand Loop Race as well, a 3-4 day epic event.  In the same vein is the ultimate mountain bike race,  the Great Divide Race.  From the website: The Great Divide Race is a self-supported, solo competition following the 2,490-mile Great Divide Mountain Bike Route. Traversing Montana, Idaho, Wyoming, Colorado, and New Mexico, the route demands over 200,000 feet of climbing along it's length. Competitors carry all equipment necessary to negotiate the backcountry, restocking on food and other supplies from the small towns along the route. I'm feeling the attraction as sure as the earth tugs at the moon... Last year's winner, Matthew Lee, is racing again.  He does the entire Great Divide route by starting outside of Banff, Canada a week ahead of the official race start.  I wonder what that makes his stats?  Anyway, he's put together a terrific blog on the course, complete with photos, and will post audio updates as the race progresses over the next month.  I'd encourage all to check this out.  For most, it's armchair reading at it's best; for a few it may even seem doable. Dream away! Posted Jun 22 2006, 06:14 AM by Dave

• The Ultimate Goal

  So what is this nonesense all about, anyway?  Why race bikes? For me, the first MTB ride was a fluke on a borrowed bike up the mountain behind the rafting company I worked at the time.  The goal was to see the view from the top - I'd always been drawn to the outdoors and high places in particular, logging many miles of hiking and climbing in Arizona's "sky islands" in my teens and early twenties.  The ride itself was most painful, and I walked a good bit.  I basically sucked. Then I discovered Crested Butte, where one could cover so much territory by bike.  Revelation!  I was hooked for life.  Later that year, friends wouldn't ride with me anymore and told me I needed to race these things.  Certainly, racing holds it's own competitive flow & draw, but the typical XC race isn't exactly a great way to get "out there".  It did, however, provide the motivation to improve skills to new levels... Fast forward to 2003.  I (re)discovered the joy of epic rides, the being "out there" aspect, the hours upon hours of aerobic effort and the clear-mindedness that results, nearly meditation.  Dang, there are 100 mile races out there?  24 hour solo events?  It was a whole new world, and the sport that keeps evolving and presenting new opportunities and challenges. This year has seen more revelations.  KTR was an eye-opening experience.  142 miles self-supported through the deserts and mountains starting at midnight, who'da thunk it?  An interesting format, with it's basis firmly tied to mountain bikings original code of self-sufficiency.  I've been fascinated with the concept of doing the Grand Loop Race as well, a 3-4 day epic event.  In the same vein is the ultimate mountain bike race,  the Great Divide Race.  From the website: The Great Divide Race is a self-supported, solo competition following the 2,490-mile Great Divide Mountain Bike Route. Traversing Montana, Idaho, Wyoming, Colorado, and New Mexico, the route demands over 200,000 feet of climbing along it's length. Competitors carry all equipment necessary to negotiate the backcountry, restocking on food and other supplies from the small towns along the route. I'm feeling the attraction as sure as the earth tugs at the moon... Last year's winner, Matthew Lee, is racing again.  He does the entire Great Divide route by starting outside of Banff, Canada a week ahead of the official race start.  I wonder what that makes his stats?  Anyway, he's put together a terrific blog on the course, complete with photos, and will post audio updates as the race progresses over the next month.  I'd encourage all to check this out.  For most, it's armchair reading at it's best; for a few it may even seem doable. Dream away! Technorati Tags: Cycling [link] Posted Jun 22 2006, 06:14 AM by daveharris with no comments

• Lunch

  How was your lunch today?  Mine was quite tasty, thanks for asking.  I've got the favorite route I do the week before big events - it takes me to the top of Missionary Ridge, about 3500' higher than my front door, but only a smidge over an hour to get there at moderate pace.  The Ridge burned to a crisp in 2002, it's life after death up there. From the top, the views sweep over the La Platas, Durango Mountain resort, Animas Valley, and on a clear day Lizard Head is even visible.  That isn't the case today as there are plenty of fires burning in this parched west right now...time for a rain dance! It's a freaky fast ride dropping that 3500' back to town.  This wraps up my prep for the E100 12 hour event this Saturday.  I'm trying something a bit different this time around.  Hope it works cause it's gonna be a hammerfest for sure. Technorati Tags: Cycling [link] Posted Jun 21 2006, 02:41 PM by daveharris with no comments

• Lunch

  How was your lunch today?  Mine was quite tasty, thanks for asking.  I've got the favorite route I do the week before big events - it takes me to the top of Missionary Ridge, about 3500' higher than my front door, but only a smidge over an hour to get there at moderate pace.  The Ridge burned to a crisp in 2002, it's life after death up there. From the top, the views sweep over the La Platas, Durango Mountain resort, Animas Valley, and on a clear day Lizard Head is even visible.  That isn't the case today as there are plenty of fires burning in this parched west right now...time for a rain dance! It's a freaky fast ride dropping that 3500' back to town.  This wraps up my prep for the E100 12 hour event this Saturday.  I'm trying something a bit different this time around.  Hope it works cause it's gonna be a hammerfest for sure. Posted Jun 21 2006, 02:41 PM by Dave

• The Alpine Loop, Colorado style

  On tap for the weekend was a ~5 hour ride & not too hard.  Given that I'm nearly certain to do the Breckenridge 100, it dawned on me yesterday morning I could kill two birds with one stone by getting high.  The Alpine Loop takes in 50+ miles of backcountry jeep roads through the San Juans, much of it above timberline.  Just the ticket.  I started just outside of Silverton, rode up to Animas Forks (the headwaters of the Animas river), and began up Cinnamon pass for a counter-clockwise ride of the loop. Photo blog time!  Here's the next best thing to being there. The base of Cinnamon pass.  Yes, that's right - the ride begins at timberline and goes up from there.  Of course, there was maybe 1500' of climbing to get to this point.  This pass is pretty steep in spots, steeper than Engineer, but not as high.  It only tops out at 12,600. It looks like this up top.  Earth or moon?  This area will explode with flowers in a few weeks. From Cinnamon, it's down, down, down until Lake City at about 8,600'.  Lake City is the home of the Hinsdale county museum of Alfred Packer fame.  It took some searching, but there's an unlikely public waterhole in the back of some field near the Lake Fork of the Gunnison. The route immediately heads out of Lake City uphill towards Engineer pass.  The "pass" is at 12,800', but that isn't the high point.  The road continues upward to near 13,000' beyond the pass.  Go figure.  The climbing is actually quite gradual as it occurs over 18 miles, mostly middle/big ring stuff, until the last two miles where it becomes steep in the tundra. Capitol city, formed 1877, is about half way up.  Near timberline there's a cabin dedicated to Henry David Thoreau.  It's been awhile since I've read some of his works...but just being here gives me the motivation to get to Maria's and update my library. From here the climbing steepens.  At 12,800, obvious signs of winter still exist.  And this was a light winter. The views from Engineer pass were mesmerizing.  I spent a good bit of time hanging out up there at 13k'. Rooftop of the world... It just doesn't get any better than this.  Unil August, that is :-) Posted Jun 18 2006, 09:52 AM by Dave

• The Alpine Loop, Colorado style

  On tap for the weekend was a ~5 hour ride & not too hard.  Given that I'm nearly certain to do the Breckenridge 100, it dawned on me yesterday morning I could kill two birds with one stone by getting high.  The Alpine Loop takes in 50+ miles of backcountry jeep roads through the San Juans, much of it above timberline.  Just the ticket.  I started just outside of Silverton, rode up to Animas Forks (the headwaters of the Animas river), and began up Cinnamon pass for a counter-clockwise ride of the loop. Photo blog time!  Here's the next best thing to being there. The base of Cinnamon pass.  Yes, that's right - the ride begins at timberline and goes up from there.  Of course, there was maybe 1500' of climbing to get to this point.  This pass is pretty steep in spots, steeper than Engineer, but not as high.  It only tops out at 12,600. It looks like this up top.  Earth or moon?  This area will explode with flowers in a few weeks. From Cinnamon, it's down, down, down until Lake City at about 8,600'.  Lake City is the home of the Hinsdale county museum of Alfred Packer fame.  It took some searching, but there's an unlikely public waterhole in the back of some field near the Lake Fork of the Gunnison. The route immediately heads out of Lake City uphill towards Engineer pass.  The "pass" is at 12,800', but that isn't the high point.  The road continues upward to near 13,000' beyond the pass.  Go figure.  The climbing is actually quite gradual as it occurs over 18 miles, mostly middle/big ring stuff, until the last two miles where it becomes steep in the tundra. Capitol city, formed 1877, is about half way up.  Near timberline there's a cabin dedicated to Henry David Thoreau.  It's been awhile since I've read some of his works...but just being here gives me the motivation to get to Maria's and update my library. From here the climbing steepens.  At 12,800, obvious signs of winter still exist.  And this was a light winter. The views from Engineer pass were mesmerizing.  I spent a good bit of time hanging out up there at 13k'. Rooftop of the world... It just doesn't get any better than this.  Unil August, that is :-) Technorati Tags: Cycling [link] Posted Jun 18 2006, 09:52 AM by daveharris with no comments

• Tinker's RAAM

  Race Across America, the name says it all.  9 AM Sunday the solo field left Oceanside, CA in route to Atlantic City, NJ.  I consider myself an ultra MTB specialist, but no way would I even consider such a race.  More than a week of sleep deprivation and solo road riding and I'd lose my mind, what's left anyway.  Tinker is another story,  however.  A guy that strong, talented, focused, stubborn - he must always be looking for something to step up the challenge.  After seeing him roll into Durango yesterday evening on day 2 of ~9, it would appear he's found a challenge alright!  I was surprised that he rolled right up to me to chat for 5 minutes or so before he went to the safe haven of his air conditioned RV.  He left some strong impressions in that conversation: RAAM is going make 24 hour racing seem so easy for him He looks strong as a bull when talking face to face as opposed to looking somewhat slight from a distance on the bike. He has plenty of pressure to finish on a pre-determined schedule, since his 7 person crew all have flights back  home already booked. He was amazed at  how hard the event is:  "It's crazy!  You ride your bike till midnight every day, its just crazy!" Tinker was visibly tired and seemed a bit overwhelmed by the experience, but at the same time was articulate and clear speaking.  He's one tough hombre, my bet is he does quite well in his journey to the East Coast. Tinker, we wish you the best! In pictures...       [link] Posted Jun 14 2006, 09:30 AM by daveharris with no comments

• Tinker's RAAM

  Race Across America, the name says it all.  9 AM Sunday the solo field left Oceanside, CA in route to Atlantic City, NJ.  I consider myself an ultra MTB specialist, but no way would I even consider such a race.  More than a week of sleep deprivation and solo road riding and I'd lose my mind, what's left anyway.  Tinker is another story,  however.  A guy that strong, talented, focused, stubborn - he must always be looking for something to step up the challenge.  After seeing him roll into Durango yesterday evening on day 2 of ~9, it would appear he's found a challenge alright!  I was surprised that he rolled right up to me to chat for 5 minutes or so before he went to the safe haven of his air conditioned RV.  He left some strong impressions in that conversation: RAAM is going make 24 hour racing seem so easy for him He looks strong as a bull when talking face to face as opposed to looking somewhat slight from a distance on the bike. He has plenty of pressure to finish on a pre-determined schedule, since his 7 person crew all have flights back  home already booked. He was amazed at  how hard the event is:  "It's crazy!  You ride your bike till midnight every day, its just crazy!" Tinker was visibly tired and seemed a bit overwhelmed by the experience, but at the same time was articulate and clear speaking.  He's one tough hombre, my bet is he does quite well in his journey to the East Coast. Tinker, we wish you the best! In pictures...       Posted Jun 14 2006, 09:30 AM by Dave

• Steamboat: do as I say, not as I do

  Carved from the school of hard knocks, here's how the morning of the 24 hours of Steamboat played out:  sleep wasn't happening, so got up about 5am.  There is a lot of stuff to get ready when doing these unsupported, so I went out to the truck to haul some plastic bins up the "stairway to heaven" of my friend's house, a steep narrow stairway leading to the upper living area.  Well, I must not have been fully awake yet, cause I tripped, lost my balance, then tumbled backwards down the stairs, slamming my left knee and right hip in the process...but the real kicker was the way in which the concrete floor met my head.  There was time for an instant of shocked recognition before the lights went out.  Sometime later (no idea how long but I was getting cold) conciousness slowly came back, at first just a glimmer, sort of like that can't run in a nightmare feeling, and as I lay there aware of the throbbing goose egg right where my helmet would sit for 24 hours I thought to myself "self, things can only get better!" -------------------- First let me set the record straight.  I wasn't self-supported for the event.  I had planned to be from the outset, and was ready to be at the start, but my great friends Bill and Jen Murphy showed up in the late afternoon on Saturday and never left.  Chrissy & Joules also stopped by at key times to help with this and that...and there was help forthcoming from other pit crews too.  Words simply don't describe how fortunate I am to have such friends.  Getting everything set to go was a lot more time consuming than I had planned.  Setting up bottles of eFuel, flasks of eGel, setting up all food on one table, getting the 2nd bike ready for night riding, filling camelbacks - then there was the mandatory 10am meeting, and a breakfast meeting with friends I rarely get to see...it all made for a mood of full blown mania by the time the gun went off. Last year I walked the run, finishing DFL pretty much.  Not this year...started mid pack and moved up to the top 30 or 40 thereabouts, and once we got the bikes, well let's just say the legs were beyond happy.  The training leading to this event had gone very well and the legs gave instant positive feedback.  The climbing part of the course is mostly either dirt road or double track, passing is rarely an issue.  I wasn't going hard, yet I was moving up fast.  After about 15 minutes, there were only 3 guys in front of me and I thought how cool would it be to be the first one in?  I jumped up a few gears and was alone.  Another 15 minutes or so and I was at the top - there were huge crowds, and it wasn't lost on the onlookers that I had the number 1 plate.  From there the descent is up and down a bit, but some of the best flowy singletrack around.  Coupled with my new favorite Fuel setup - a Reba at 100mm and disc brakes front/rear - the bike was flowing under me like the Animas at high water.  When I reached the bottom, I learned there was another rider that was way off the front, so it turned out I was 2nd guy in.  Must have been one of the guys from the team that did 22 laps.  For the 2nd lap I decided to shut it down.  Although I didn't feel like I was going hard (even ate a banana on that first lap), it was a strange senstation to be that far ahead.  So I ate more grub and just cruised along...but to my surprise I didn't get caught by any riders.  After finishing the 2nd lap as the 2nd guy across, I was looking around to see if Rod Serling was over my shoulder. For entertainment, I was really working the descent, much more than the climbs.  It was so freaking fun.  This was my first time with discs front and rear, and now I know what Sager means when he talks about controlled two wheel slides in turns.  Holy crap is that fun.  Running the PT on the MTB has prevented me from the full disc experience for some years now, Graber get with the program!!!  I'll not do another race (that I care about) with the PT.  Discs are way better than data. Clearly, this kind of pace can't keep up forever, and it didn't.  I'd like to say that I went fast early to throw out a warning shot to the competition, or that I thought I could maintain that pace...but in retrospect, I now realize that after obsessing over so many details - lighting, self-support efficiency - the one detail left out was a pacing plan.  The morning's events had me so amped up and agro at the start nothing was going to slow me down.  It sunk in about nightfall that I screwed the pooch as my gut showed the early signs of shutdown.  I had been holding a steady 30 min lead for the solo's, but after about midnight, the Canadian Stick Boy  began to reel me in.  Finally, about 2am I had just finished a really hard lap and asked Jen where Stick Boy was and she just pointed.  His pit was right next to mine, and there we were, looking at each other.  Bad gut or not, this is seriously fun stuff.  For the next 5 hours or so I dug deep to stay close.  Through the rest of the night and early morning, I think we saw each other at every pit.  It was a great time.  This was his first 24  hour race and he was kicking some butt - self-supported too - he later told me he just wanted to call a truce in the night.  Those late night laps were a hoot.  The moon was full, it wasn't very cold, just gorgeous.  All the fresh high mountain growth had that thick "skunky" scent going off the charts, and that descent was getting more fun even in the dark.  I had serious competition, was in my element, and concious of it all the while.  It just doesn't get much better than that. My gut was my undoing.  Through the night, I was less and less able to take in calories, then water wouldn't even stay down.  It got to the point where I had to take long pits and eat 600-1000 calories just to get the next lap done.  Eating while stationary was fine, eating on the go was a  no-go.  If I shortened a pit to get on the trail sooner, I'd have a really bad time on the climb so I yo-yo'd a lot that way.  Finally, the 13th lap was disaster.  Jesse was about 4 minutes up on me, and Jen said "Dave, how far behind Jesse do you want to be?"  Yea...waving a red flag in front of a bull..."I don't want to be behind him at all!"  so off I went without eating.  How many ways are there to say empty...it was lap 13 that I quit thinking about chasing Jesse and went into damage control. Before the 14th lap I ate my fill and put in a solid lap.  It was looking like it was going to take 16 laps to hold onto 2nd, so I kept the efforts moderated on the few really steep bits.  The first 3 riders were all close and fast (we were all well ahead of course record pace) - the guy behind me was Jason Stubbe, a super salty, amiable, fast guy.  Last I heard he was 30 min back, but had momentum going in the opposite direction as me.  Could I hold him off?  Nope.  I headed out for the 15th without getting enough calories down, and on top of that, it was getting hot.  I was dead in the water.  Jason came by me all happy, asked me if I was going out for the 16th and told me I was his hero and he loved me (I said amiable, remember?) when I said no, and that was that.  My upper body was totally thrashed from working the descent, so rather than finish that lap out I turned it around and coasted back down the S/F and settled for 3rd & 14 laps.  14 laps was good enough for the win last year, but this year only 3rd.  Those 14 laps did take 1.5 hours less this year, gut trouble notwithstanding.  I really have to give props to Jesse Jakomait and Jason Stubbe - neither had done a 24  hour race before, and both rode great races, perfectly paced and finishing strong.  Jesse went on to do 16 laps in 24:04 - methinks that record will stand for some time.  Jesse really should consider doing the Moab 24 - if he can ride desert stuff like he can in the mountains, he'd be a good bet.  I've had about a dozen emails now thanking me for the 24  hour tips blog posts, several of which have been from riders who just won their first 24.  Looks like we can add Jesse to the list.  Nothing like making more competition for yourself! As for my race, I've always been critical of the big 3 for their usual strategy of a ballistic start, and have secretly always wanted to try it.  I've always figured it would cost a lot in the end and be detrimental in the long run.  Now I know.  Once things start heading down the tubes, it's really tough to turn it around.  Despite the hard ending, I felt a lot better this year and had more fun on course than last year.  It was a freaking blast, and I hope Brad and Katie keep this race going for years to come. Posted Jun 13 2006, 09:53 AM by Dave

• Steamboat: do as I say, not as I do

  Carved from the school of hard knocks, here's how the morning of the 24 hours of Steamboat played out:  sleep wasn't happening, so got up about 5am.  There is a lot of stuff to get ready when doing these unsupported, so I went out to the truck to haul some plastic bins up the "stairway to heaven" of my friend's house, a steep narrow stairway leading to the upper living area.  Well, I must not have been fully awake yet, cause I tripped, lost my balance, then tumbled backwards down the stairs, slamming my left knee and right hip in the process...but the real kicker was the way in which the concrete floor met my head.  There was time for an instant of shocked recognition before the lights went out.  Sometime later (no idea how long but I was getting cold) conciousness slowly came back, at first just a glimmer, sort of like that can't run in a nightmare feeling, and as I lay there aware of the throbbing goose egg right where my helmet would sit for 24 hours I thought to myself "self, things can only get better!" -------------------- First let me set the record straight.  I wasn't self-supported for the event.  I had planned to be from the outset, and was ready to be at the start, but my great friends Bill and Jen Murphy showed up in the late afternoon on Saturday and never left.  Chrissy & Joules also stopped by at key times to help with this and that...and there was help forthcoming from other pit crews too.  Words simply don't describe how fortunate I am to have such friends.  Getting everything set to go was a lot more time consuming than I had planned.  Setting up bottles of eFuel, flasks of eGel, setting up all food on one table, getting the 2nd bike ready for night riding, filling camelbacks - then there was the mandatory 10am meeting, and a breakfast meeting with friends I rarely get to see...it all made for a mood of full blown mania by the time the gun went off. Last year I walked the run, finishing DFL pretty much.  Not this year...started mid pack and moved up to the top 30 or 40 thereabouts, and once we got the bikes, well let's just say the legs were beyond happy.  The training leading to this event had gone very well and the legs gave instant positive feedback.  The climbing part of the course is mostly either dirt road or double track, passing is rarely an issue.  I wasn't going hard, yet I was moving up fast.  After about 15 minutes, there were only 3 guys in front of me and I thought how cool would it be to be the first one in?  I jumped up a few gears and was alone.  Another 15 minutes or so and I was at the top - there were huge crowds, and it wasn't lost on the onlookers that I had the number 1 plate.  From there the descent is up and down a bit, but some of the best flowy singletrack around.  Coupled with my new favorite Fuel setup - a Reba at 100mm and disc brakes front/rear - the bike was flowing under me like the Animas at high water.  When I reached the bottom, I learned there was another rider that was way off the front, so it turned out I was 2nd guy in.  Must have been one of the guys from the team that did 22 laps.  For the 2nd lap I decided to shut it down.  Although I didn't feel like I was going hard (even ate a banana on that first lap), it was a strange senstation to be that far ahead.  So I ate more grub and just cruised along...but to my surprise I didn't get caught by any riders.  After finishing the 2nd lap as the 2nd guy across, I was looking around to see if Rod Serling was over my shoulder. For entertainment, I was really working the descent, much more than the climbs.  It was so freaking fun.  This was my first time with discs front and rear, and now I know what Sager means when he talks about controlled two wheel slides in turns.  Holy crap is that fun.  Running the PT on the MTB has prevented me from the full disc experience for some years now, Graber get with the program!!!  I'll not do another race (that I care about) with the PT.  Discs are way better than data. Clearly, this kind of pace can't keep up forever, and it didn't.  I'd like to say that I went fast early to throw out a warning shot to the competition, or that I thought I could maintain that pace...but in retrospect, I now realize that after obsessing over so many details - lighting, self-support efficiency - the one detail left out was a pacing plan.  The morning's events had me so amped up and agro at the start nothing was going to slow me down.  It sunk in about nightfall that I screwed the pooch as my gut showed the early signs of shutdown.  I had been holding a steady 30 min lead for the solo's, but after about midnight, the Canadian Stick Boy  began to reel me in.  Finally, about 2am I had just finished a really hard lap and asked Jen where Stick Boy was and she just pointed.  His pit was right next to mine, and there we were, looking at each other.  Bad gut or not, this is seriously fun stuff.  For the next 5 hours or so I dug deep to stay close.  Through the rest of the night and early morning, I think we saw each other at every pit.  It was a great time.  This was his first 24  hour race and he was kicking some butt - self-supported too - he later told me he just wanted to call a truce in the night.  Those late night laps were a hoot.  The moon was full, it wasn't very cold, just gorgeous.  All the fresh high mountain growth had that thick "skunky" scent going off the charts, and that descent was getting more fun even in the dark.  I had serious competition, was in my element, and concious of it all the while.  It just doesn't get much better than that. My gut was my undoing.  Through the night, I was less and less able to take in calories, then water wouldn't even stay down.  It got to the point where I had to take long pits and eat 600-1000 calories just to get the next lap done.  Eating while stationary was fine, eating on the go was a  no-go.  If I shortened a pit to get on the trail sooner, I'd have a really bad time on the climb so I yo-yo'd a lot that way.  Finally, the 13th lap was disaster.  Jesse was about 4 minutes up on me, and Jen said "Dave, how far behind Jesse do you want to be?"  Yea...waving a red flag in front of a bull..."I don't want to be behind him at all!"  so off I went without eating.  How many ways are there to say empty...it was lap 13 that I quit thinking about chasing Jesse and went into damage control. Before the 14th lap I ate my fill and put in a solid lap.  It was looking like it was going to take 16 laps to hold onto 2nd, so I kept the efforts moderated on the few really steep bits.  The first 3 riders were all close and fast (we were all well ahead of course record pace) - the guy behind me was Jason Stubbe, a super salty, amiable, fast guy.  Last I heard he was 30 min back, but had momentum going in the opposite direction as me.  Could I hold him off?  Nope.  I headed out for the 15th without getting enough calories down, and on top of that, it was getting hot.  I was dead in the water.  Jason came by me all happy, asked me if I was going out for the 16th and told me I was his hero and he loved me (I said amiable, remember?) when I said no, and that was that.  My upper body was totally thrashed from working the descent, so rather than finish that lap out I turned it around and coasted back down the S/F and settled for 3rd & 14 laps.  14 laps was good enough for the win last year, but this year only 3rd.  Those 14 laps did take 1.5 hours less this year, gut trouble notwithstanding.  I really have to give props to Jesse Jakomait and Jason Stubbe - neither had done a 24  hour race before, and both rode great races, perfectly paced and finishing strong.  Jesse went on to do 16 laps in 24:04 - methinks that record will stand for some time.  Jesse really should consider doing the Moab 24 - if he can ride desert stuff like he can in the mountains, he'd be a good bet.  I've had about a dozen emails now thanking me for the 24  hour tips blog posts, several of which have been from riders who just won their first 24.  Looks like we can add Jesse to the list.  Nothing like making more competition for yourself! As for my race, I've always been critical of the big 3 for their usual strategy of a ballistic start, and have secretly always wanted to try it.  I've always figured it would cost a lot in the end and be detrimental in the long run.  Now I know.  Once things start heading down the tubes, it's really tough to turn it around.  Despite the hard ending, I felt a lot better this year and had more fun on course than last year.  It was a freaking blast, and I hope Brad and Katie keep this race going for years to come. [link] Posted Jun 13 2006, 09:53 AM by daveharris with 4 comment(s)

• Back from the dead: 29er studies

  With the Dos stripped of components and hanging in my garage, let's just say 29er studies aren't at the forefront of my interests right now.  I found the answers to my questions.  However, Cycling News is hitting the issue hot and heavy . It's nice to see an organization with some industry ties and a bigger budget is taking the time to look at the issue.  They do have some interesting analysis techniques proposed, such as using GPS and MotionBased to analyze specific sections of a route, comparing between the two bikes. There are a couple of deal killers in the study, though.  The first one hit me in the head so hard I nearly passed out.  They aren't using power!  Without measuring rider input, how can efficiency possibly be determined?  It can't.  You could determine which bike was faster over a short course by repeated time trials, sure.  But that doesn't apply to the endurance racer, the segment of the cycling market that is gung ho on 29ers.  Efficiency is king to the endurance racer.  We have a limited supply of energy, and the more distance we get from that limited supply, the better.  Gotta have power. An example:  Robert Chung of the wattage list (I think he is a statistician by trade, but not sure) assisted with the data analysis of my files from the Old Pueblo 24 hour event.  He looked closely the files comparing a couple of laps with similar times but different power, one on the 26, the other on the 29.  What he found was that for most of the time, the power between the two bikes was very similar.  There was 1 section, though, that required a lot more power on the 29 when compared to the 26.  For those familiar with the course, this was the Corral trail.  This section is slightly downhill, twisty but very fast.  Time to cover that section wasn't much different, but power was much different.  That sort of observation would have been lost without the use of power. The second issue is that they've gone to great lengths to normalize the cockpits between the 2 bikes - and I'm assuming this implies there is only 1 test rider.  It's been my observation that larger riders tend to prefer 29ers more than smaller riders.  By larger, I'm talking about weight more than height.  There is probably a reason for that...results from one person's runs will likely be different from anothers, especially if they differ in size. In short, CN has tightly controlled for equipment variables but without objective energy measurements, their results are just going to stir the pot rather than provide any sort of definitive conclusion.  They could change all that with an SRM or Ergomo...are you listening??? Don't settle for 80% CN, this ain't the pareto principle.    [link] Posted Jun 08 2006, 07:46 AM by daveharris with no comments

• Back from the dead: 29er studies

  With the Dos stripped of components and hanging in my garage, let's just say 29er studies aren't at the forefront of my interests right now.  I found the answers to my questions.  However, Cycling News is hitting the issue hot and heavy . It's nice to see an organization with some industry ties and a bigger budget is taking the time to look at the issue.  They do have some interesting analysis techniques proposed, such as using GPS and MotionBased to analyze specific sections of a route, comparing between the two bikes. There are a couple of deal killers in the study, though.  The first one hit me in the head so hard I nearly passed out.  They aren't using power!  Without measuring rider output, how can efficiency possibly be determined?  It can't.  You could determine which bike was faster over a short course by repeated time trials, sure.  But that doesn't apply to the endurance racer, the segment of the cycling market that is gung ho on 29ers.  Efficiency is king to the endurance racer.  We have a limited supply of energy, and the more distance we get from that limited supply, the better.  Gotta have power. An example:  Robert Chung of the wattage list (I think he is a statistician by trade, but not sure) assisted with the data analysis of my files from the Old Pueblo 24 hour event.  He looked closely the files comparing a couple of laps with similar times but different power, one on the 26, the other on the 29.  What he found was that for most of the time, the power between the two bikes was very similar.  There was 1 section, though, that required a lot more power on the 29 when compared to the 26.  For those familiar with the course, this was the Corral trail.  This section is slightly downhill, twisty but very fast.  Time to cover that section wasn't much different, but power was much different.  That sort of observation would have been lost without the use of power. The second issue is that they've gone to great lengths to normalize the cockpits between the 2 bikes - and I'm assuming this implies there is only 1 test rider.  It's been my observation that larger riders tend to prefer 29ers more than smaller riders.  By larger, I'm talking about weight more than height.  There is probably a reason for that...results from one person's runs will likely be different from anothers, especially if they differ in size. In short, CN has tightly controlled for equipment variables but without objective energy measurements, their results are just going to stir the pot rather than provide any sort of definitive conclusion.  They could change all that with an SRM or Ergomo...are you listening??? Don't settle for 80% CN, this ain't the pareto principle.    Posted Jun 08 2006, 07:46 AM by Dave

• Let the climbing begin...

  Damn am I ever ready for Steamboat.  The anticipation has me in it's grip like a good buzz.  24 hour events are special - when else does one get to ride without constraint for 25 hours straight?  It takes a lot of time to prepare, both physically, mentally, tactically, mechanically...so many details.  When the gun goes off the easy part begins. Yesterday's training was a nice ride to High Point on the Colorado trail, starting at 4am.  Today was Missionary ridge, a bit shorter than yesterday and tells me all I need to know.  How cool is it to be at 9500' at sunrise in the summer?  Livin' large in the Rockies. A quick trip to Cottonwood Cycles in Farmington and I now have a new XXX racelite disc wheelset.  To my surprise, it is of the centerlock variety - not what I need with the Hope Mono Minis...but no worries, Ralph got me so dialed in with that and other stuff too, like sweet new Oakley lenses.  I didn't know they had a "heater" version of lens - sure could have used that at OP!  Anyway, I gotta plug Ralph and Cottonwood cycles, if you need serious cycling goods and are within 150 miles it's worth the drive.  There's an interesting showdown going on this weekend.  Granny Gear is doing a monster 24 hour coast to coast series (not sure if any teams or solos will actually compete for the series title though, it'd take serious funding) and this weekends GG event is Big Bear, WV.  Solo Goat (aka Ernesto Marenchin, 2nd at 24 hour worlds last year) vs. current National Champ Cameron Chambers.  Should be interesting.  Them boyz better watch out for banjo pickers out there... Looks like entrant #s are down at 24 hour events this year.  There are so many events to choose from these days...it's watering down the fields.  Choice & variety is good, but so are big competitive fields.  Kinda torn on that one.  Steamboat registration I hear is down considerably over last year, likely becuase there's an MSC event this weekend and Erock was last weekend.  Saturday begins "the climb of your life", round 2.  Look for updates early next week. Posted Jun 07 2006, 06:48 PM by Dave