Photos by Cathie Docherty: http://www.cathiedocherty.com/

I lined up on the front because I felt good that morning. I had done some warm up sprints to loosen the legs and limit the shock of the pace that was sure to come on the first climb. Starting off the Old 70 climb up to Kitsuma I was 20th dangling on the back of the lead group. I’m still not real good with these fast starts (some XC races may help). I looked back after a 1/2 mile to see a big gap, so I wasn’t worried about being caught up in traffic. 20th is not so bad, a few riders will crash, a few will drop from the heat and I’ll reel in some more. That’s the plan any way. Old 70 is paved, but closed to cars and the grade is just steep enough to make a selection, but not really hurt. I focused on my game plan and cruised up.

The plan was this: get near the front going into the single track on Kitsuma, keep the pace civilized over lower Heartbreak and Star Gap (though I love to rip through this part), then start turning the screws up Curtis Creek, attack on the next climb up to the parkway, recover down Heartbreak and then do whatever needed to be done to finish strong over Kitsuma and back into town. I built up my Rotwild R.R2 HT aka The Hardtail with an 80mm Magura Durin fork and Conti Race King Supersonic tires & the SRAM XX 2×10 to a svelte 21 lbs including the Topeak saddle bag, multi-tool, spare tube and pump. With the Wobble-Naught fit, this was a race rocket built to climb. Unfortunately I had not had any experience with a hardtail in a few years and only about an hour of dirt time to shake down the bike. Not 20 feet into the single track I struck my pedal twice and had to jump off to get balance again. I had to be more aware than that. Then over the top of the mountain found out my rear brake was barely working. It had not been bled correctly when I had the hoses cut to fit. I won’t name the shop, but I won’t be back either. The lack of brakes made a very technical descent that much harder. Then I feel a little resistance in the rear wheel and hear the guy behind me yelling something. I pull to the side, stop, look down and see my spare tube wrapped around my rear rotor. I forgot to zip my saddle bag up (that’s just plain dumb). The tube was shredded and my multi-tool no where to be found. I rolled out hoping that would be the last of the drama for the day.

I made it down Kitsuma white knuckled, but in one piece and set about reeling in those riders I could see up the road. A few stopped at the SAG (I did not) and I passed a few more on Lower Heartbreak Ridge. The Hardtail was climbing great. I hit the overgrown two track to Star Gap and hit the gas. I love the way this climb steps up and rolls. I can carry a lot of momentum into the little climbs and keep the pace high without spending much energy. I tend to move around on the saddle and alternate between standing and sitting which helps too. Soon I was ripping down toward the second SAG having passed 4-5 more riders.

I stopped for a single bottle to climb up Curtis Creek Rd. It’s a 9 mile gravel grinder up to the Blue Ridge Parkway (SAG 3), so I didn’t want to take on any more weight than necessary. There’s a few miles of pavement and then gravel before you hit the actual climb. I tucked my head down and thought about Contador and Shleck in the TdF. Contador knew how to get his head out of the wind, Shleck did not. I took notes from Contador. Another thing I noticed about Contador in the ITT (which I watched the day before) is that he does not stay in one place for long. I mean he moves around on the saddle a lot. Being a fitting and technique focused guy, I understood what he was doing: changing the muscle recruitment. I light bulb went off in my head and I put this technique to use. At the base of the climb I rode one guy off my wheel, then caught sight of the next. I was all over the saddle, then standing, then back on the saddle, fore, then aft, but always changing it up. To my surprise I was just feeling stronger and stronger up the climb. I think I caught 3 guys on that climb putting me back in the top 20.

SAG 3 was a welcome sight. Not only did it mean a fresh bottle, it meant I could drop down on the north side of the ridge and get a break from the heat that was building. It seemed to get hotter near the top of the climb which was a little backward. It should be cooler at the higher elevation. Anyway, I passed two more guys hiding in the shade at the top. I descend a few miles and tried to eat and drink enough to replenish for the next climb but not get bloated. I felt great as the road began to point up again. Gradually at first and then it gets nice and steep. Again I repeated my techniques from earlier, but with more urgency this time. I was not descending super fast today, so I wanted as much time on the climbs as possible. I had rabbits to chase all the way up and closed in on all of them quickly.

SAG 4 was a rolling pit. I never stopped, but I took on two new bottles and some food. I drank a half of one bottle and some food, then felt a little bloated. I took it in too fast. The problem was that I only had a mile and half of pavement before a steep hike-a-bike followed by a 7 mile descent. I needed to get the fuel in now so I could use it at the bottom. There was some awesome folks out cheering for us at the base of the hike-a-bike. “Run!” they yelled. I laughed, “yeah right, it’s more like crawl.” It’s steep with no chance of riding it. It’s not quite a 3 point stand kind of climb, but close. At the top I drank some more knowing I would not have many chances once I got going. Then I rolled off the edge.

One person passed me and I passed another, so it worked out OK. It was not my fastest time down Heartbreak ridge, but it would do. The hardest parts were rolling over logs on the steeper pitches and the switchbacks. Both are difficult to negotiate with so little resistance in the back brake. Finally I rolled down the last steep & rooted section (with 3 photogs waiting for the crashes) and out into the flatish last 1/2 mile before the final SAG. I let my guard down. Not on purpose, but it happened and crashed hard because of it. I was rolling up to the railroad crossing and there was a “S” turn with a steel pole off to one side which caught my attention (as do not run into that) and I missed the log sticking out down low. I clipped my Eggbeaters on it and went sailing over the bars. I manage to rotate a bit before impact and landed on my side instead of my face. Luckily I didn’t hit my shoulder, but my hip and back had souvenirs that would last a few weeks. I jumped up and the guy I just passed was asking if I was OK. My reply was “I’m good now, but tomorrow is going to suck. See ya…..” I jump the tracks, remounted and was off.

The crash may have jogged my brain because I should have rethought my nutrition/hydration needs and stopped at SAG 5, but I blew through it tossing an empty bottle. In my head I was going to be climbing up Mill Creek Rd just as I had done on the two previous climbs. Focus on my technique and go. Instead I struggled. Maybe the new techniques were a little more taxing than I expected since I had not been training like this, but I think the 102* temps and my lack of hydration adjustment was more the culprit. The road had loads of sun exposure and the temps were peaking. I actually hallucinated on the climb for a minute. I was staring out just past my front wheel when I realized that I saw this weird orange color to the dirt road. Then I thought “that’s not normal” and then I realize I was just seeing things and pushed on.

Once on the Kitsuma single track I thought I’d be able overcome the sluggishness that had hit be out on the road, but I was too far gone and I was down to a few sips of Powerbar Endurance left. Not even the thought of being finished was going to get my legs firing again. I finished my drink and trudged on. There are few short steep climbs scattered over the descent and they felt like another Curtis Creek grind, but after what seemed like an hour I was into the last of the descent. I still was not home free with my limited braking and general fatigue, but I managed to get down safely. At the bottom I was checking out the creek that we cross (on a bridge), but it’s lack of depth made me decide to hold out for the finish. I could have sat in some cold water right then, instead I knocked out the last few miles on the pavement as fast as my exhausted legs would allow. I crossed the line, dumped my bike and headed straight down the embankment to the creek and sat…..for most of the next hour and half.

I ended up finishing 14th over all and 8th in the open mens class with a time of 5:55. My personal best on this course by 46 minutes. That’s what 5 years of training will do for you. I’m really excited to work on these new pedaling techniques and share them with my clients. Many thanks to the ORAMM race staff and volunteers for making this event run so smoothly. I also have to thank my sponsors for the best equipment a racer could ask for. I honestly cannot think of what I could improve upon and that inspires a lot of confidence.

Video 1 – Base of Unicoi Gap

Video 3 – Heading East from Hiawassee to Dick Creek

Video 3 – Dick Creek Gap Climb

Descending FS 164

Video 5 – Hwy 197 near Lake Burton

There was a lot of fishing going on here at the fish hatcheries trout ponds.

There is a beautiful waterfall back there, but it’s a little washed out by the greenery in the photo.

Namrita & Chris ended up heading back to Helen when I was running late. We all ended up getting soaked in the thunder storm that came in around 4:00 PM.

TNGA is unlike any race I’ve ever done on a few levels. First is the distance and terrain: 350 mile of (mostly) dirt and 56,000 feet of vertical gain. It’s a bigun’. Yes there are bigger and longer events out there aplenty, but this is the biggest and longest race I’ve tackled and that makes it something for me to obsess over. I’ve eyed some of these other events with a mild curiosity, but when someone brings a challenge like this to my back yard I just have to go for it…….and by go for it I mean really go for it. I’m not going out there to see if I can finish. This is a race and I plan to treat it like one even if I’m alone 99% of the time.

The terrain and distance create their own issues. One is navigation. The route is not marked, though it is published and GPS files are available. The only navigation racing I’ve done is the PMBAR, but I’ve always been finished within 10 hours and the 2 (out of 3) times I’ve done it I didn’t have to do the route setting. This one could go on for a few days (I’m thinking two, but I’m still looking into it). Wrong turns in the North Georgia Mountains can be costly in both time and energy. I’ll be studying maps, reconnoitering a few sections and investing in a GPS.

Another challenge is gear….as in how much to carry or what is essential and what is extra weight. I’ve never even been bikepacking before, so this is all new to me. 24 hour race involve a pit crew and minimal weight on the bike and rider, hundies have some additional considerations that are covered by a good multi-tool and a pump. Food may be scarce, sleeping will have to happen at some point (maybe), fresh water is limited and mechanical support is non existent. Luckily I work with a company that makes some well suited products and I’ve already begun testing some. I’ve already nailed down the Mini 20 Pro, Rescue Box and Race Rocket Pump. I also recently tested the Dyna Pack which was a little out of it’s league on the technical descents (I took is down Bear Creek, Pinhoti 1 & 2, & Windy Gap to shake it down), but may still make the cut with a slight modification. I also rode with the Bikamper for the extra weight on the bars. Having the counterbalance to the loaded down Dyna Pack was actually an improvement and much easier to over come on the climbs than expected. There will be more testing. I’m hoping to have the new Air BackPack for testing next week.

As for a bike, well I already have the best dern machine on the planet. I seriously could not have picked out a better build if wanted to. I also know it’s dialed in to the millimeter because that’s what I do (when I’m not doing ten other things).

Nutrition is a whole can of worms that I’m still working on. I know what I need nutrition wise, it’s just how to get it along the way that’s difficult. I’m sure I’ll carry a bunch of some variety of sports drinks because I function well on them & they are dense (both calories and space). I’m still researching what’s going to be available along the route and then I’ll need to figure out the hours of these businesses. There is the option of having someone meet me along the route (which is legal in this event), but I’m not sure I’ll have someone to fulfill those duties or if they are necessary. The places where support is allowed is also where I’ll have easy access to food and water, so we’ll see.

Strategy is the last one which also plays into the others. Do I pack uber-minimal and risk getting caught in a less than ideal situation unprepared? Do I bring along some nonessentials that may save my arse or at least hours of delay. How about pacing? Do I blister the pace, but sleep longer or just set it in diesel mode and grind out out for two days straight?

What I am working on now is riding with weight no matter what it is to get used to it. I’ve notice is takes more upper body and core strength to ride with the weight on the singletrack and it is certainly taking it’s poll on my legs on the climbs. On the other hand I’m quickly figuring out how to use on the descents to gain more momentum. My nutrition is dialed, I know how to tune my bike to account for the added weight, my pedaling mechanics are the best they’ve ever been, my fitness is OK, and I have time to obsess. This weekend Namrita and I are going to ride the Shallowford Bridge to Mulberry Gap (P2) section. It should be about 45-50 miles. I’ll load up the gear again for the training weight and maybe try some different Topeak gear for giggles. More to come….

We woke before the crack of dawn as is usual for this 7:00 AM starts. It never fails that I dream about oversleeping when I have to get up at 4:30. 99% of the prep for the race was already done down the coffee just waiting for someone to press the start button. We ate, a gathered our stuff (we checked out of cabin that morning), heeded the call of nature and drove on to the venue. I made sure our tub of food and drinks, the cooler and the tool box were all in our pit area and then did a short warm up before the start. This race is a mad dash for the single track, so getting loosened up and even hitting a few hard efforts really helps reduce the shock of that hard effort at the beginning.

I lined up in the second row knowing I was going to draft into the singletrack anyway. The group rolled out with a neutral start for the first 1/4 mile then the lead out pulls off and it’s on. There is a total of 2 miles of pavement before we hit the dirt, so I slowly worked my way up toward the top 10 or so by following anyone heading that way. I made sure to keep my nose out of the wind to conserve as much as I could for the first few early climbs. Once I reached a position in the group that seemed manageable I settled in and waited….it didn’t take long.

With Schalk, Tangguy, Simonson and company on the front I was surprised at first and then a little scared to see two guys gunning to get into the single track first. I was scared because I trusted the aforementioned riders to string out the group at a high pace which would keep things safe. When we bunch up people get stupid and crash….I don’t like crashing. Luckily these two just gunned it until they blew and peeled off leaving the enduro-monsters to do their work.

The single track started fairly wide which left room for passing. I continued to draft as much as possible. jumping on a passing wheel as it suited me. The first climb made the selections. The enduro-monsters created a group of 7 or so and surged on. I was in the next group which would become 5 or 6 as we came together on the flat two-track sections. I worked hard through the first 8 miles to get to Andy Applegate‘s wheel and then let him do a bulk of the work. I came around and took long pull on two track, but was very happy that Andy was content to do the work through all the rest. This course allows for drafting and the benefits are noticeable. I came around about 25 miles in to lead on two track section and then continued into the single track again. As nice as having the draft was it was also nice to be able to control my own momentum over the hills and around the turns.

I pushed the pace a bit to thin our group. I knew Andy would make the selection and most likely continue to do a lot of the pulling in the second lap, but I didn’t know any of these other guys. Unfortunately I didn’t make my own selection. I hit this particularly steep hill with speed and planned to march right over the top, but three pedal strokes in and POP! Next thing I know I’m nearly fallen over sideways as all the tension in my drivetrain goes away. The chain broke.

I would have been smiling if I was not being passed by 20 guys, but I was super prepared. Opening my saddle bag, I knew I had everything I needed to fix the problem. The Mini 20 Pro for the chain hook and breaker and just the day before I picked up two sets of SRAM 10 speed Powerlinks which I stowed in my Rescue Box for safe keeping. I quickly set about repairing my chain and may have lost about 5 minutes on the hold deal.

Chasing hard 30 miles into a 100 mile race is dumb and I should know better. The best strategy is to keep a steady pace and not make mistakes. What did I do? I chased hard. I passed 5 or 8 guys quickly, nearly crashing into one of them in a turn I didn’t see coming. I red lined up the last two climbs, railed the descents and was in full time trial mode when I came into the pit for the first time (this hundie is a 3 lap format).

3 fresh bottles and a half can of BURN Squared later I was off hoping the caffeine would keep me charged enough to get back to the top ten on this next lap. Passing and attacking everything in sight, I charged on still making up lost time. 6 or 8 miles in I’m back to the first flat two track section trying to hunt down this guy in front of me, but I can’t seem to close the gap to more than a fifty yards. Mean while a group of 6 formed behind and are pacelining up to me. After a few more minutes of futile chasing/running, the group behind caught me. I jumped in the line for a few minutes and then all the effort I had been putting in for the last hour caught up to me. I sat up and watched them all pull away.

Suddenly I had no motivation to sit in a group and bide my time. I wanted to be on the attack and ran out of the juice to get it done. Instead I cruised along and thought. I thought about my dad who was having an angioplasty on Monday, my sister who was in the hospital with two blood clots and what would soon be determined as a tumor in her heart, my wife who has been heartbroken all week about one of the dogs we once fostered who has been missing…..and then about random stuff: the latest book I’ve been reading, what the weather must be like back home, what was happening in the World Cup today. Slowly though my focus came back to riding, my pedal stroke, cornering, keeping momentum.

Toward the end of the lap I had not seen anyone and I was grateful for that. Being alone in my head was what needed. Every once in a while I’d see this guy slowly creeping closer from behind and I’d only pick up the pace to continue being alone. “I can let that guy catch me” slowly turned into “you can catch that guy up there” as I came back into traffic. I attacked a descent with just few miles to go on lap number 2 and carried the momentum up and over the next climb, then down again and finally into the start/finish. “Looking good rider, you are number 21!”

Noticing a few riders from that train that dropped me earlier in the pits got me fired up a bit. I swapped bottles again, chugged the rest of the BURN and rolled. I ended up with Scott Cole and Thom Parsons for the first few miles and then Thom and I pulled away. Thom would go a little harder on the steep climbs and then I would go faster on the descents. I nearly crashed passing him as I tried to keep my momentum over the top of one climb. Then like someone refilled the tank I was able to get on the gas and go. It was a combo of resting for some much of the last lap and the energy bomb that is/was BURN (BURN Energy Drinks went away a few years ago and I nursing the last few cans in existence). I got around Thom and just milked every turn and descent for all the speed I could get. I was back to racing.

Slowly, but surely I reeled riders back in and it felt good. It felt right. At the start of the day I was really aiming for a top ten, my first in an NUE race. Now I had no care at all about my placing, I just wanted to go hard and feel good. I was focused and drilling it. I did worry about my chain, but that just kept me smooth and b y the this 3rd lap there were no more surprises on the course. Over the last two climbs I passed 3 more racers and then kept it steady to the line….7:29 and change. 32 minutes better than last year and good enough for 12th place in the Open category and 14th over all (there’s some darn fast singlespeed dudes out there). Namrita finished up 5th in the Women’s race and more importantly finished her first Lumberjack.

Many thanks to the race staff and volunteers at the Lumberjack 100, Scott and Danielle for the hospitality, our amazing sponsors for the absolute best equipment available, and to our family for their support of this odd need to spend long ours in the woods flogging ourselves for reasons that we can’t even explain.

Pumps, Mini Pro 20 and Rescue Boxes

My favorite, the Tool Stick 11

Possible TNGA kit?

The dogs are not as excited as I am.

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.

The 6 Hours of Warrior Creek rocked! Plain and simple. Bum and the guys from BMCC put on some great events (they took over the BURN 24 from me) and this was not exception. Namrita & I raced the duo co-ed category, but really we were after the duo overall class. Also as is the norm in these relay races I was after the fastest lap of the day while still being able to maintain a fast pace throughout.

The plan was for me to start, gain a lead and put some traffic between myself and anyone else in our category. Then Namrita would come out and either maintain the lead or extend it. We didn’t get in early enough to pre-ride the course on Friday, so I did what I could while warming up. I decided to focus on the starting parade loop and then figure the rest out as I went. The parade loop consisted of 1 mile of pavement and then 1/2 of dirt before hitting the single track. That meant just enough room to thin the group before hitting the trail.

I lined up in the second row and as we started I did a quick assessment of who really surged liked they wanted to lead this thing. After about 200 yards we hit a steep hill which lasted another 50 yards. I continued to follow wheels at this point. There was a little shuffling and coasted 10 feet or so. That put me in the back of the lead group of 10-12 that just formed over the hill. I took 3 good pedal strokes, tucked into an aero position and coasted right into 3rd position. I swung wide left and made a smooth arc into the right hand turn and into 2nd place. 50 yards into another right hander and then down hill. I made the turn and tucked again. I buzzed past the lead guy and kept going….without even a pedal stroke. The road twisted through a camp ground and then did a 180* and climbed back out. I had about 3 seconds as I began to climb again. I settled into a rhythm expecting someone to jump off the front (only to blow up 300 yards up the climb). No one did, they were content for the moment. I waited until about 100 yards from the last right turn before we descended into the dirt and stood into a sprint. I made the turn in the lead and never looked back.

Not pre-riding is not the best practice, but I got lucky this time. The trails are so predictable and smooth that I simply just “knew” what was coming next. I do not often find myself leading out a race, so I was going to enjoy this opportunity or blow up trying. I did look back occasionally to see the results of my accelerations and about half through the group had been cut to 6. Someone asked from behind who was on a team (and implied who was solo), I was the only team guy. I knew then that they would let me lead to the finish, since I was stopping after this lap and they were not.

I stayed focused on my form and on picking good lines. It was not technical in the rocks and roots sense, but every turn was bermed (a curving slope). If you stayed off the brakes and used the berm to control the turn and your speed you can really carry a lot of momentum through the turns. The climbs were never steady, but instead broken into little bits with dips to gain more momentum. The course required many bursts of power and very few sections where you needed to stay on the gas for long. Perfect for me to just get after it.

Mile 10 hurt….. a lot. Thankfully the miles were marked, so I knew I only had a couple of miles left and some of that was a descent. The guy behind me, Tim Finkel, mentioned a “nasty rock garden” coming up soon. Having just returned from the Ouachita Challenge in Arkansas, I had no fear of rocks. Namrita pre-rode it before the race and told me not to worry about it. I trusted her and gunned it into the final descent. At this point there were only 3 guys left behind me. I hit the rocks with speed and the hill dipped steeply downward. I flowed over the first set quite well if I do say so myself. Then trail dipped even steeper, though smoothly and then shot back up for a second before making sharp left hander. Then the “gnarly” part came. I could still hear the others behind me at this point, so I accelerated and hoped for the best. The line was not clear, but it was there and momentum was my friend. I cleared the rocks without pause and accelerated again once I was clear. I made a sharp switchback which lead me under rock garden above and could see that I had at least a 10 second gap. I accelerated again because I could hear the finish.

I surprised Namrita. Maybe it was because I was first out or because I was a good 8 minutes ahead of schedule. We had a long transition area to make the hand off and I set her rolling with a clear trail ahead. And then she crushed it, adding more minutes to the lead.

Then my head felt like it was going to explode, my lungs hurt and my legs ached…..but I was done for an hour. Namrita did her part in adding to the lead from there and I continued to turn myself inside out on each lap. It was great to be able to go full gas instead of holding back because I have 5 more hours to ride.

Namrita did the last lap and we finished with a healthy lead. We cleaned up our pit, let the dogs swim some and then headed to the awards ceremony up the road (no alcohol in the park). We hung with the Faster Mustache crew, had BBQ & beers then headed off for a relaxing evening of sitting next to a campfire. What a great weekend.