Robert Bart, John Naas, Larry Lazo,
and I of Team BOR planned on racing the 150 mile route. Larry has done very well in the past in the
shorter distance race and this year he decided to step it up to the 150 and
ride with Mickey from the team we shall not speak of.
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| The team that shall not be named |
Tim Johanns and Jessie Brown planned on the
90 and David Beattie decided to ride the 90 for that same stinky team. Our friends from Team Virtus, Chuck and Kate,
were also planning on the 150, but Kate decided to wear a stinky jersey, which
Chuck tells me is how she usually smells.
Training for the Epic started
months before the race. I rode outside
all winter and when I didn’t feel like freezing I rode my rollers and
trainer. Ever since I injured my
Achilles years ago I haven’t been running much and have gained some weight,
which makes it even harder for me to climb hills which I have never been good
at. The first year I did this race I
think the elevation was over 11000 feet of climbing, which I walked a lot
of. The second year, which was rained
out mid race, I felt much stronger and didn’t walk any hills and decided
against the race directors advice and rode back in the storm. I didn’t want to walk any this year either,
so instead of worrying about my weight like I have done in the past, I actually
decided to just focus on strength by eating well and riding hard and building muscle. John, Jessie, and I started longish gravel
rides early in the Cannonball Series and we rode one on our gravel bikes and
another in the snow on our mountain bikes.
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| Cannonball 1 |
This ride in the snow the route was frozen and the gravel bike riders
gave John and I a spanking. We were out
there longer due to rolling resistance and ended up sinking in the thaw. This started my going back and forth on what
bike to ride and what tire width to run, 2.35s were just too damn slow.
I normally flat a lot on my CX bike, the
brakes suck, and the gearing crushes my legs on hill climbs. My mountain bike although it climbs like a
goat has slow rolling resistance. I
therefore decided to build a bike specifically for this race from one of my
mountain bike frames. I took one of my titanium
Lynskeys and put a steel Surly rigid bike packing fork on it. It already had Shimano XT hydro disc brakes
and I decided to put a 3x10 (24-32-42/11-36) drive train on it, mainly because
I had most of it laying around and wanted a granny hill climbing gear. I used to run this set up years ago when I
first started adventure racing so I knew I would have every gear I would ever
need and accepted the weight penalty. I
didn’t care if I was heavy, nor my bike.
I just wanted to be strong and roll as fast as I could.
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| AR bike |
Robert joined Jessie, John and I in
training and we started learning some valuable lessons. During Death by Gravel, Robert and I learned
that the CX bike gearing and tubed skinny tires were going to force us to walk
some of the steepest hills and ride our crappy brakes down the other side. Robert managed a flat and I ripped my
derailleur off at mile 92, converted to a cranky single speed, and with a tow
from Mickey was able to finish the 100 mile route. This took my CX bike out of training and
forced me to train on the Lynskey, which I now call my AR bike, or do it all
bike, it’s a mountain bike, gravel bike, bikepacking bike, and an adventure
racing bike.
I started rebuilding my CX bike
while training on my AR bike. The CX
bike would be my back up bike if anything went wrong while training on my other
bike. I put a gravel bike Shimano 105
derailleur on it, new hanger, new chain, and changed the gearing from 36-46/12-30
to 34-46/11-36 so I could climb steep hills.
I also failed at an attempt to make it tubeless. I still haven’t rode it since DBG.
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| DBG broken CX bike |
At Alto Pass I struggled to keep up
with Jessie and Robert, so I knew I need to reduce my tire size. I think, if I remember correctly, I was still
running 2.35s. Robert had switched to
Kate’s old bike and promptly destroyed it.
He bent the derailleur hanger, which may have already been bent, because
it looked like an S turn. It was also
was not tuned. I managed a rough road
side repair and we finished a shortened version of the ride. Later Robert changed the hanger and I tuned
it up. I feel like I did more work on
Kate’s bike than any other bike on the team.
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| "Robert how did you get Kate's bike beans above the frank?" |
At the Double Barrel race, Jessie,
Robert, and I learned a very valuable tire lesson in either we all rode through
glass, or Arkansas gravel is glass, as we all flatted numerous times. I punctured both of my brand new 2.1s, but
the tubeless set up kept me rolling without any plugs. Robert flatted Kate’s bike a couple times and
Jessie almost made it until she bragged about how awesome her bikes is and then
God promptly smacked her with a flat and since then a plague of flats that is
still continuing to this day. Never ever
brag about not getting flats…God don’t play that! The Double Barrel race really deserves a blog
of it’s own. It was the very best
organized free race ever! I will stop
there before this becomes a blog about it, but I have to say riding home with a
12 gauge shot gun on my back will probably be the highlight of my entire
year.
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| I won I won I won the BB gun! |
So all this training led all of us
to discuss our bike set ups and dial them in.
It led some us to lose weight, some to gain muscle, some of us to just
ride more. It gave me a lot of bike
maintenance practice as I worked on Kate’s/Robert’s bike, John’s bike, Jessie’s
bike, and Tim’s bike. I kept going over questions
in my mind of; did I train enough, did I train more my first year of the Epic, was
I stronger than the first year I did the Epic, was I making the right bike set
up choice? I am sure everyone else was
thinking the same things. Then John
slowed his training and Jessie, Robert, and I thought he probably should drop
to the 90 and we convinced him to do so because of the 10 mph average speed
requirement to finish the 150. Jessie,
Robert, and I were training around 13.5 mph average on rides around 60
miles. We were hoping we would average
slightly less in the 150. I kept trying
to convince Jessie that she should ride the 150 as she was training so hard and
getting so strong, but she has never rode a century and has that century brain
block. We will have to get her over that
demon this summer. Robert had terrible
news right before the race that he had to drop out due to a death in the
family. Now I would be riding the Epic
all by my lonesome, so the last thing I did was swap my punctured 2.1s for
brand new 50’s. I was able to get one
short road ride on them before the race.
Race day: I start the race in the back and quickly jump
up to mid pack. I don’t see Larry,
Mickey, Kate, or Chuck in front of me, but I figure they will be passing me
anytime. Around mile 4 Larry and Mickey
pass me and I don’t really care because I knew they would be in front of me
anyway. I am racing my own race at my
own pace on my own facing my own demons.
At mile 12 I see a water crossing and as I slow I see concrete and a
hole under the water. At the last second
I try to jump onto the concrete to avoid the hole, but it is too late and I
side swipe the concrete which rips a gigantic hole in my tire. I try to boot it. While I am working on it 4 more riders flat
in the same water hole and some even bend their rims. Kate and then Chuck pass. My boot is poking out the sidewall at least
an inch and a half. I try riding on it
but the bubble is hitting my chain stays and my front derailleur rips through
the duct tape boot and the tube blows out.
My race is over. I am so upset
after all the training, all the money spent, all the bike building, that my
race is over at mile 12.
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| Rolling in my duct taped frog togg looking like the Hulk |
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| Boot that hole...nope! |
I start trying to call my wife for
pick up. Reception is terrible or
non-existent. It’s raining and my phone
won’t acknowledge my fingertips, nor will Siri listen to me. I’m about to lose my shit and think this is
an enduro rim, I’m riding it. Riding on
the rim on the flats was slow going, I couldn’t get traction to climb the
hills, so I had to walk them. Riding
downhill was absolutely terrifying. I
get ahold of my wife, but we can’t understand each other. I have 14 miles to the check point and I
didn’t bring my other bike or my other tires.
I guess I will ride the rim until I find my wife or the sag Jeep, or
just ride the rim all the way to the CP.
I think I will go buy a tire and ride as long as I can before they pull
me off the course. I send coordinates to
my wife and she drives to them as I ride away.
She didn’t understand that I wanted her to drive the course backwards
and meet me head on. The sag Jeep
finally finds me somewhere between mile 16 and 19. I can’t remember because by this time I had
lost my damn mind after almost dieing on a downhill asphalt drift.
The Jeep guys are awesome and the
Jeep is awesome and we hit it off great since I am also a Jeep guy. I tell them about my unfortunate race and my
Jeeps and they tell me about their club.
We talk about Jeeps and trails and I am just about to forget about the
race and my bike falls off the bike rack.
We stop, I put it back on, and we make it to the gas station.
I lay my bike down and a bunch of
people are there with broken bikes. One
team is there and has a pair of broken carbon rims.
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| Panaracer to the rescue! |
Now I have to make a choice. My legs don’t feel the greatest. I used up so much energy riding that rim and
being upset. I have to choose to ride as
hard as I can for as long as I can. I
decide that I will not quit, I will not stop, I will not take pictures, I will
eat and drink, and I will finish. I keep
repeating the Adventure racer motto of “relentless forward progress” which is
tattooed on my good friend Kevin Minton’s arm.
I actually am picturing his tattoo in my mind as I keep reciting
it. I tell myself to keep moving forward
no matter what.
I ride alone for many miles
wondering if my teammates on the 90 will pass me. I then realize I will never see them. I probably won’t see anyone. I keep moving as fast as I can, but am
extremely careful on water crossings. I
find Tanya at the checkpoints and again she is like a pit crew changing out my
bottles and food and getting me in and out of check points in seconds. She shoves food in my mouth and tells me how
I am doing and whether she has seen any other riders. I tell her I will probably get pulled from
the course. She tells me she thinks I am
2 hours behind.
I start seeing racers going the
opposite direction so I know they already rode the Tunnel Dam loop and I am
many hours behind. I climb a crazy hill
and get a beer hand out at the top which I slam down. They guy tells me the check point will be
closing soon. I have beer in my mouth
and want it out. I am already feeling
its affects and drink water and spit out the beer taste and as I go to put my
water bottle back in the cage I run off the road and Superman over the
bars. I go limp and am ok. The bike is ok. I carry on, but decide I will be much safer
as I am the last rider.
I see Larry and Mickey leaving the
CP as I am entering it. They are the
entire loop ahead of me. Tanya tops me
off and I am on the loop. Some riders
warn me there are some slippery water crossings ahead. One of my water bottles pop out on an extreme
downhill and I have to skid to a stop and run back up the hill to get it. I keep riding and pass my first rider at
around mile 80. I can’t believe I
actually caught someone. I catch another
and another. I finish the loop and feel
strong. I am proud of myself because I
am eating and drinking and riding everything and I am being much more careful. I climb out of the loop and see Tanya waiting
for me at the top of the hill. I restock
and help a guy who needs chain lube.
Tanya tells me a few riders ahead of me have dropped out. I ride on.
 |
| Massive hill climbs |
I start catching and passing riders
more often. I find the beer guy again
and down another, but this time I follow it immediately with water and stop
quickly to put the bottle back in the cage.
I am not repeating that mistake twice.
I ride and ride and ride. I have
to stop at mile 100 to hook up my Garmin to a charger, put a tire plug in, put
sun block on, pee, and put chamois cream on.
This was the longest I stopped all day.
Around mile 107 I see a Team Virtus jersey ahead. It takes me a little while to catch him, but
I can tell it’s Chuck. He walks a hill
and I am almost there. I pass him on
asphalt and he tells me we are very close to cut off. He says we have to go 13 miles in about and
hour and half to make the cut off for the next CP. I decide I need to keep racing my race and
head off. My tire plug starts leaking
and I stop to put another one in and Chuck catches me and helps me install
it. I double it up to be safe. I leave Chuck again. I feel like a complete dick, but I have
ridden so hard for so long that I want to make cut off.
I see a Jeep at the top of a hill
and he offers me water, but tells me the CP is only 4 miles away, so I tell him
I am good as I have half a bottle. I
ride 4 miles, no CP. I ride on and pass
another Jeep that tells me the CP is only 6 more miles and he has no water and
neither do I. I am now worried. I ride and look for creeks. I find one and load 2 bottles with creek
water. I ride and eventually find the
CP, which was way longer than the Jeep guys thought. Jeep odometers, you just wouldn’t understand. I roll into the CP without drinking the creek
water. Kate is at the CP. Tanya is feeding me and changing out my
bottles telling me about Kate’s condition and a rider they found in the middle
of the road. Lori is asking me where
Chuck is. The whisky guy is asking me if
I want whisky. The food lady is asking
me if I want food. I tell Tanya that I
passed a guy who was slumped over his handle bars, but told me he was ok, and
that is probably the guy past out in the pickup bed. I tell Lori that Chuck is ok and slightly
behind me. My head is spinning. I leave the CP and go the wrong way 3 times
before I find the route. They are all
yelling at me. Chuck rolls in. I ride
about a mile and realize I forgot my second light.
I try to ride hard, but safe. The sun is starting to go down so I try to
make ground, but feel slow. I know I am
not doing well mentally, so I force myself to eat and drink even though my
stomach is locking up. It gets dark and
I can barely see. I slow down. I can’t afford getting hurt or flatting this
close to the finish. I figure Kate and
Chuck will catch me in no time. I have
to pee so bad that I stop and pee and look for their lights. I ride on and start watching the time versus
my distance. I am barely going to make
it. I have to keep moving as fast as I
can. I eventually make it to the road
that leads to the start. I have to pee
so bad again and now I know I am going to make cut off and would rather relieve
myself instead of peeing my pants in front of everyone so I stop and pee. It is the absolute longest pee in my life. Urine is actually crossing the road downhill
and I am like how is that possible? I
keep peeing and start worrying that this pee is going to cost me finishing on
time. Jeeps and trucks have been passing
me for a long time in the opposite direction and I know they are picking riders
up. Finally the pee stops flowing and I
ride the last mile to the finish. I’m
listening for music, or people, looking for lights, but I cross the finish line
in the dark and in silence until I hear a few cheers from my wife and Team BOR
teammates that waited for me, Steve Fuller, David Beattie, and Jessie
Brown. Steve grabbed my bike as I
grabbed a beer. We talked and put my
gear away. We told the race directors
that there was no way they would pull Chuck and Kate from the course and they
should be finishing soon. We wait for
them to finish and then head back to our hotel room where I immediately get
shaky and sick to my stomach. I take a
shower to clean up and then soak in the tub while trying to hold back vomit. I don’t vomit. I finished on time, only lost 6-9 miles, and
didn’t vomit. Epic.
Congratulations to all my Team BOR teammates for finishing their Epic mileage.
Captain Ahab
