An Introduction to Beating Yourself Up
It didn't take me long to push myself. The beginning of the race was a 2,000 ft climb, starting on fire road before turning to dual track. Riding a cross bike, I knew this was where I needed to shine, faster on the ups, slower on the downs. I pushed hard. When I hit the dual track I was by my lonesome. I wasn't solo long though. When I stopped to peal off my jacket, Blake and Kurt rounded the corner behind me. Back wheels spun out over the babyhead sized rocks (a Sierra specialty), the sun gleamed on the two racers, backdropped by the far reaches of Eastern California and the beginning of Nevada stretching out in the valley below. It was framed so perfectly, I wanted to snap it and save it forever, but I wasn't here for the photographs. It was time to race.
As expected, over the top, Blake and Kurt shifted quick and rocketed down the craggy descent. I'd catch Kurt on the dirt road; but Blake would be nothing but tire tracks for the remainder of the race. Kurt and I would end up matching paces and navigating this new course. Some bikewhacking ensued and a fair amount of general guessing of where we should go. I tried hanging on with Kurt as long as I could, over gravel roads, skinny rocky fire roads, dual track, and even the occasional pavement. As the day wore on the heat started to get to me. The thought of eating was revolting. I tried to force things down, but as they touched my tongue they were immediately the worst tasting thing ever. I had to let Kurt go, get off the bike and take a breather. The breathers were longer than I wanted, but hanging with Kurt put some distance between me and those behind me. After some snacks, I mustered up some energy and pushed onward. From there things only got worse. It was singletrack time. My speed would drop, further extending my time til Burgee Dave's. The single track was fun, or at least would have been, had I not been totally spent from 70+ miles of riding. I tried to find rhythms and groove. When I finally found it I saw a piece of granite on the middle of the trail and I thought I'd be badass and hop that granite. Well; lesson learned, don't do that if you don't know what's on the other side, because it was a 2 ft drop, my front wheel kept pointing downward and my rear upward. Rubber side was the wrong way. I hit the ground hard. I dusted myself off, pushed my lever back to where it should be. Recollected and took the rest of it at a more sensical pace.
It would be a lot of start and stop for me to Camptonville. On the final section of singletrack I felt like giving up. Everything hurt; my head, my stomach, my legs. I couldn't imagine pushing more. The following fire road was steep and had me pushing my bike up it; I was completely out of gas. While walking I heard gravel crushing behind me and saw a light wavering in the trees. It was the only single speeder, only woman, and all-around total crusher Alice Drobna. We chatted for a second and I told her I was ready to quit. She offered encouragement before we went back to our respective speeds. We'd meet up again at Burgee Dave's.
A vegan burger, salad, fries, and two Cokes and I was starting to feel a little put together. Alice left shortly before me, Sam and Troy would roll in and leave after me. The next bit was fun singletrack around the reservoir. Thankfully my Fenix LD22s were bright enough to keep me on the trail and not fall down the ditch. I'd roll up and down and pop out at the dam where Sam was waiting (he passed me on the trail). We agreed to push on to Oroville. He was moving faster, so I let him go. The desire for sleep was hitting me hard. My plan was to push on with no sleep, but the course was so physically and mentally draining that I had to lay down. At around 2AM I rolled over along the side of the road and took an hour or so off the bike. Waking, feeling slightly refreshed, I remounted on toward Oroville.
Give Up the Goat
Warmed by a vivid sunrise over my shoulder, I crushed under the wind of the valley. I'd make it to Maxwell around noon. The restaurant was closed, being Sunday, so it was more gas station meals (Fritos Bean Dip forever) then off again toward the towering climb of Goat Mountain. But even before the start of Goat Mountain Road was a windy assault through the last stretches of the valley and then a straight up wall of road riding before the dam. It was the hottest part of the day and I could feel the sun hitting me hard. I crested the road ride, only to start into the long grueling dirt climb up Goat Mountain. It would start easy, a fairly gentle grade, but as the elevation count went up so did the gradient. Nearing the top my road rings couldn't handle it and I was forced to walk. The sun was gone and I was walking a lot of the final 2,000 ft. I was so sore and beat that by the time I hit the summit I packed it in for 2 hours.
Waking up I once again felt only slightly better. It wasn't all that late, there was a lot of darkness before another sunrise. I began going down trying to keep my heavy eyes on the road and avoid the bumps and divets of the fire roads down the backside of the mountain. The climb was smooth and went pretty much straight up; the backside would not be so friendly. My arms and back cramped as I squeezed the brakes of my drop bar, being extra careful. My anxiousness to get off the mountain couldn't supersede my desire to stay upright. The road rolled up and down on unrideable gradients, I began to feel the darkness again. I would get on and ride what I could, walk what I couldn't, and take five to ten minute naps in between. Water would be scarce and motivation even scarcer, but what could I do but just make it? That was my motivation, that there were no options. I was moving slowly, but I was moving. The sun would peak up over the trees as I neared the final descents. With the morning rays my spirit and my speed lifted. I dropped into Potter Valley for more gas station resupply and onward to Lake Mendocino.
The Path of Most Resistance
Lake Mendocino was hot hot hot. I savored any shade there was and tried conserving water (I didn't bring much since it was only 30 miles from Potter Valley to Ukiah). The GPX was a little tricky to follow, so I followed the best track I could, some of it being some real flowy full single track. Onward to Ukiah where a sandwich shop offered real food. Only 70 miles left from Ukiah, I decided to check the Track Leaders, one thing I wanted to not do on this race (I was trying to imagine that the person in front of me was around every corner and the person behind me just around every bend behind me; which was actually a great motivator), checking I saw that the jig was up, Alice was ahead of me and Sam would roll into town any second.
I tried recovering on Low Gap Road, but I was hurting. My gearing made the ascent slow and my bars made the descent slow too. I focused on staying on the bike while the sun was out to help with the fast fire road descents which I thankfully did before hitting the last stretch of pavement into Comptche. The sun went down for what was the final night. I'd been to Comptche before and I knew how close Mendocino was from where I was standing, but our tracks would not take the path of least resistance, it was probably the path of most resistance. A steep climb up into a preserve full of overgrown fire roads that descended into the Mendocino Woodlands. After 350 miles, this was a real asskicker of technical single track and steep climbs. I wanted to finish before sunrise, but the constant struggle of staying on trail slowed me down. The sun peaked it's red rays through the top of the redwoods as I walked up the long steep climb around Manly Gulch, the last long uphill. At the top I remounted and started downward.
Once again the downs would be just as daunting as the ups. Technical windy singletrack kept me on my toes. Points were so steep I was walking downhill. I squeezed my brakes, hoping not to overheat my rims, I worried about slipping my rear wheel on the leaves. I tried to make sure I was on the pink line on my Garmin Etrex screen, so I didn't have to waste energy routing the wrong way. Towards the very end of the trail, right before Mendocino Headlands State Park, I was going down a steep bend, squeezing my brakes and my narrow rim/wide tire setup gave way, my tubeless tire burped and I lost all traction and hit the ground hard. I had less than 15 miles to go, this fall hurt mostly my spirit. I walked the last bit of descending single track. Crossed a final road, touched the Big River and realized; this is it. There was a section of flat single track that would lead to the final road.
I hit the road running. I was pressing on my pedals as hard as I could. I could feel it coming. I hit the beach and organizer Doug and third place finisher Sam were there waiting. 3 days 3 hours 46 minutes; 4th place. I held it together to finish and that's what matters. What a trip.
Final Thoughts
This was the first time that this race was run. I had no idea what to expect. I brought a cross bike expecting more fire roads and gravel roads; I was wrong. The rumored but not confirmed total singletrack count is 50 miles over 400, that's 1/8 of the course and I am sure that the road sections are about 1/8 and the uphill is probably at least a quarter of the course on top of that. It was extremely fun though, albeit extremely challenging on a cross bike. I would most definitely do this course again for all that sweet single track only on a better prepared bike. On top of that, so many of the views were so stunning I'd love to even tour this route with a camera and a few buds, especially since the end of the first section would lead to a nice long rest at Burgee Dave's where they serve gallon sized Bloody Mary's, how badly I wanted one then. Can't really thank Doug and Dan enough for putting this together.
