Cohutta 100 2010 – Race Report
Thunder, lighting, rain, wind and 100 miles of dirt. The Cohutta 100 deserved the epic moniker that is given to all too many mountain bike races. We arrived to the venue at about 6:20 AM already dressed to ride, took about 10 minutes to take care of the rest of the prerace details, then I spent 25 minutes warming up. At the last minute I ditched my jacket and leg warmers knowing I’d be warm enough soon (as long of the predicted monsoon did not come during the race).
I was a late to the starting line. It seemed that I needed to be up there 15 minutes earlier to get near the front, but it was too cold and wet for that. I edged my way in near the front, but was going to have to merge once they said go. They said “go” and the chaos ensued for 20 seconds as we merged to squeeze through the starting gate, but once on the other side surge at the front kept the complaints to a minimum. I tucked into the back of the lead group and tried to find a wheel that was not going to get shelled as soon as the first climb came. There’s nothing like drafting off of someone going backwards and realizing it too late to make the jump back to the group….or even worse, jumping to someone else how is going backward. It’s like climbing a falling rope.
The guy that got shelled was almost me, but the peak came just in time for me to get back into the group before I was left behind. I wanted to be in this group to be sure I got into the single track in front of most of the traffic. In past editions of this race I was more conservative at the start and it cost me time & energy as I tried to pick my way through riders. Today’s theme was going to be an effective use of efficiency.
The first 9-10 miles were uneventful; though this is the first time I’ve done this race and not felt like I was going to lose my breakfast at this point. I let the group pull away some as we rose to Boyd Gap, but closed the distance in the descent. On Old Copper Rd I let them go again, knowing that rocky, rooty mess was coming. It’s only 50-60 yards long, but on a good day I can pass a lot of riders here and it was a good day. It’s hard to say how many I passed, 5 maybe 6, because I was too busy staying up right. There are decent lines on the sides of this old road bed, but the middle is a mess of thick tree roots and sharp edged rocks. The only place to pass is right down the middle. I accelerated and hoped for the best and it worked nicely. Of course most of these guys were going to pass me back on the next climb, but it was glorious while it lasted.
Up to the first SAG I was in a good group and figured they would be the ones to work with once we were on the forest services roads that make up the middle 70 miles of this course. This group included Andy Applegate, Garth Prosser, and 3-4 guys I didn’t know. That did not play out at all. Rather than working together through this relatively flat section, one after the other took off in search of next guy up the road. I held my pace. I know this course and I knew my limits. I have not done anything over 5 hours & 15 minutes this year and a good day for me at the Cohutta is 7 hours plus. Now was not the time to get on the gas….not yet.
I did get a chance to jump on Ernie‘s wheel through the flattest part on the eastside of the course, which was nice. Since this course mostly dirt roads it’s good to have a draft when on the flats. As soon as the road went up, Ernie rode away. Still I was content to keep my pace. I ditched two bottles and took my bottle & gel at the second SAG. One bottle only because it’s a long steep climb up to SAG 3 at Potato Patch. There is a descent long enough to recover on just past SAG 2 so picked up the pace and even passed one guy in the descent.
The climb that follows is a soul crusher. From the Jack’s River camp ground up past the Mountaintown Creek trail head and finally up to Potato Patch is mean. It’s also where a good bit of the race is decided. Some will go too hard heading into it and suffer a miserable, tortuous morning; some will meter their efforts perfectly and cruise to the top and I was going to come into is a little fresh because I was not going to be one of the former. I did not take long before I was both catching people and being caught. I fought the urge to race anyone and kept my pace steady. I talked to a few of those around me just assure myself I was going easy enough to still do it.
Then I made it to the East Cowpen Trailhead and swung left into a nice 16% grade. The fog did a good job of hiding the pain that lay ahead: 4.6 miles of these steep steps up to Potato Patch and SAG 3. A group of 4 of us had formed here and went to the front. Now it was time to spend some of the energy I was banking. I didn’t accelerate, but I didn’t slow down at all either. First the twin single speeders fell back (they had the same kit on), then another single speeder, and then it was just me another guy (this one with gears). We passed 2 or 3 more as we clawed up the mountain, but each would hang on for a minute or two and then go back to their pace. Finally out of the fog I could see the sign for FS 68, aka Potato Patch (named for the big rocks that look like giant potatoes sticking up out of the ground). I rolled up to SAG 3 with two other guys, one stopped and the other kept going. I stopped long enough to get my two bottles, gel products and caffeine source, and then I was off again. It was way too cold up there to hang out. (I found out later that the ladies from Mulberry Gap were cheering for me).
I bombed the descent that followed and saw the guy that didn’t stop at the SAG. His name was Drew, but wouldn’t find that out until the day after the race when I saw the results. He’ll play a role later in this story. Anyway I eventually catch Drew and another rider before descending FS 17. On paper this is a 12 mile drop from the mountain tops to the valley floor. In reality there is a lot of climbing in that descent. The first 4 miles are just fast. The mud was slick, but aside from a few switch backs there is little to brake for at all. Then the punchy little rollers start. You climbs a hundred yards and then descent a half mile and repeat and repeat and repeat….
Finally the slope becomes more gradual and then just after SAG 4 it’s just flat. Luckily I passed Tim Finkel (whom I met that the 6 hours of Warrior Creek a few weeks before) and his teammate (Robert, I think). I saw them coming from behind and let them come up to me, then it was a pace line for the next several miles. A few times I considered dropping off because the pace was just a little higher than I wanted at the moment, but stuck it out. They both seemed strong. After the race I found out we all had the same thought as some point during that part. The flat parts never last long and we made the right hander that will eventually bring us back up to the Ocoee Whitewater Center. The first pitch is steep and it took me a few minutes to make the transition from fast and flat to slow and up. Tim rode away and Robert fell back.
I have this last part memorized, maybe not as well at the Conyers course, but close. From that flat section it’s a steep, stepped climb, then fast rollers, then the winding descent to SAG 5. There is a SAG for the 65 milers in there too and someone handed me Coke. It was much appreciated. As I was dropping into the holler where SAG 5 was, I heard some riders approaching from behind rather fast. For just a minute I thought I’d let them go and just grind out the last 25-30 miles on my own. Then I saw it was Dan Larocque and Drew. Dan and I finished very close together at the Ouchita Challenge, I may have been 10 seconds up on him. He said something to the effect of “yo dude, want to have a drag race to the end?” Maybe it was not so many words, but I knew what he meant.
Just after they caught me we entered The Three Steps. This one climb has both made and broke my race in the past. We rode the first one eyeing each other, Dan, Drew and I. I threw in a few accelerations, Drew stayed to my left and Dan was right on my wheel. I preferred to set the pace and ramped it up between each step to keep the pressure on. At one point Drew asked if we (Dan and I) had some rivalry going on. Dan replied no, but I knew better. When we crested the top of the steps I accelerated again trying to use the descents to gain an advantage. They were not long enough to get away, but I was able to stay steady on the ensuing climb while Dan & Drew played catch up. We hit the last rolling section fast and I continued to try to make a separation, but they were glued to me.
I almost didn’t recognize the last climb back to the WWC because of the fog/low hanging clouds. We were nearly at the top when I saw a trailhead sign for the Big Frog Wilderness area. I took a quick assessment and then gunned it over the top and down. I made the wide lefthander toward the final SAG and back into the single track. I looked back to see at least a 5 second gap. I knew the single track would be a sloppy mess with a good 12 hours of rain and most of the 65 mile racers already having been through. I stayed on the gas into the last forest road descent. I passed Tim Finkel again and kept on going. I wanted as much time as possible.
I took a bottle a SAG 6 from Zeke without stopping and ripped down the Westfork trail. It bottomed with a switchback and I could see Tim and Dan about 15 seconds back. I motored as best I could up the climb. It was a steady grade which helped me since my legs were screaming at this point. I remembered to drink some while climbing since there would be little chance from here out. I crested the top and they had closed the gap. Dan came in on my wheel with Tim on his.
I nearly lost it heading into the Quartz Loop. I hit some mud and my back wheel came around, but I managed to correct it, get clipped back and retain my spot on the front. I offered to let them come around before the trail got tight, but they declined. We crawled around the Quartz Loop. It rolls up and down for a mile then descends (mostly) yet some how finishes where it began. Once again I right before the descent. It was muddy and loose, but kept the front wheel in control while the back wheel seemed to do what it pleased. I made the turn out of the Quartz Loop and down to the Chestnut Trail and didn’t see anyone behind. I felt like that gap was going to stick.
The last 4 miles or so was scary. I elected to run the Conti Race Kings over the Mountain Kings for speed out on the forest roads. If I could have swapped wheels at the last SAG for something with a big knob I may have had some blood in my knuckles for this last bit. The trail rolls up and down on side hill trail with slick roots. Whenever I felt it was safe I’d look back over my shoulder, but still no one was there. Each steep pitch pushed me every closer to the cramps I had been fighting for the last 30 minutes. I tried unsuccessfully to use the granny gear, but there was too much mud and debris in there. I ground out each one trying not slip and each slip giving me panic that Dan and/or Tim would come up behind me any second.
Just as I hit what I knew was the last little climb on Chestnut, I heard the brakes squealing behind me. Not the slow moving brakes of the 65 milers I had passed, but the fast moving brakes of someone on a mission. I dug deep and crested the hill entering the Thunder Rocks trail and the final descent. Looking back I saw…..Drew. For real? Yup, he didn’t play the attack game and just stayed steady. Now he was passing me. I don’t generally get passed in a descent, so that stung a bit. On the other hand I was pretty wrecked and I’ve seen a few ugly crashes on this trail. I had to let him go and focus on staying up right and limiting my losses. When I made the last turn out of the single track I didn’t see him, I rounded the turn on to the pavement and didn’t see him, then I saw him making the right turn for that last flat mile and half back to the finish. He had about 15 seconds.
I tucked my head down and just focused on my pedaling. For the first half of a mile I didn’t seem to make any gains, then slowly, but surely I was drawing closer. We hit the parking lot and luckily no one alerted him to my presence and fell in behind a 65 miler heading for the finish. I assumed he cracked. Why would he slow up like that? So I came right up behind and then jumped around. He surprised me with his response. He came right around me and began the sprint for home. We made the right turn on to the bridge over the Ocoee with me on his wheel. Then I messed up. I went wide and he went wider….pushing me out the edge of the road. I had to brake to avoid a sign post, but I sprinted hard again. I gained. I made up 2/3rds of a bike length, but then the line came. Drew got it by a nose. I still had not caught my breath when Tim and soon after Dan rolled in.
I love racing. Just when you think you are at your absolute limit…..
Pictures to follow.