My alarm went off at 4 AM and I rolled over for another 20 minutes wondering what I possibly could have thought would take up an hour’s worth of time before leaving. When I started to hear Richie stirring downstairs (he made it in late on Friday) I rousted myself from bed and headed downstairs to make coffee and breakfast. Neither of us was awake enough for conversation, so Richie left at 4:40, with only a handful of words between us, to start rounding up Billy and Chipper. I pulled deep on my double espresso and contemplated my eggs as I waited for AccuJoe to come and pick me up at 5. I ran through the mental checklist in order of importance: bike, shoes, helmet, kit, tubes, food.
Joe showed up on time and we loaded the truck. When I climbed into the cab Kenny and Joe’s friend Mike were already in. We made our way out to Coburn and pulled into the park while it was still dark. Mumble’s was borrowing Joe’s truck for the day, so we go a prime parking spot right next to the starting area and proceeded to unload. I spent the first half hour cruising the park, catching up with familiar faces and scoping out the competition. From the looks of it, it was going to be a stiff field. On the local end of things: Strauber, Chipper, Jacob, Billy, and Joe. Representing points east: Wes, Gunner, Yozell, Topher, Harlan. And from further afield: Jeremiah Bishop, Tinker Juarez, Dejay Birch, Tim Daugherty, Greg the Leg, Skip Brown. Conspicuously absent this year was defending champion and course record holder, Chris Eatough. Apparently, Chris wasn’t fully recovered from winning 24 hour nationals last weekend, I suppose we can forgive him for that.
As 7 approached I suited up and made my way into the fray for the start. As I lined up I saw Tinker a few bikes over. I’m not usually one to get all caught up in stargazing, but it was pretty cool to be lining up along side one of the great names in the sport. Tomi Miller pulled up along side me on his fixie. He’d brought his geared bike, but decided last minute to go hard man and said he was planning to make a run at the hole shot when we pulled out of Coburn to see what kind of idiots he could draw out.
After a few inspirational words from Mumbles we were off. Everyone kept pretty much to the planned neutral rollout as we hit the asphalt out of Coburn but there were plenty who were feeling twitchy and getting nervous and guys moved up on the left to get good position when we hit the hill. Soon after we hit the rollout I bumped into Trish Stevenson, back on the bike and looking good following her recovery after breaking her back on a fun ride the day after winning Tran-Rockies last year. When the course turned left up the first climb, the race started in earnest. The pace wasn’t outrageous, but it definitely lifted and I worked my way to the front group, taking notice of those around me. The opening climb is usually all about trash talking and the local boys and the Philly crowd set the tone. We came across the top of the climb in as a complete group and I started spinning like wild across the top trying to hold on through the first descent and into the flats out to 322. It was work, and I drifted back and forth between groups of geared riders, holding the draft as long as I could and then spinning like mad. Things broke up a little, but we all came back together before we hit the tunnel to cross 322 together. Once on Crowfield Rd. we dispensed with the chitchat and the pace lifted. Harlan and Jeremiah stopped for a nature call and someone at the front attacked and that set the tone all the way into Aid 1. The pace was blistering, Wes and I hung towards the back of the pack, spinning ourselves silly just on the edge of what our legs would allow. As we approached the last descent into Aid 1, Wes and I pulled up and coasted into the climb, each grabbing a water bottle as we came through. At the front, it had been the usual circus, 10 guys fighting for the hole shot onto Thickhead. But experience told me that once the initial fight was over, there would be lead break (with the likes of Jeremiah, Harlan, Tinker, Brandon) and everyone else would slow on the climb. Wes and I rode together through the field, picking off riders one by one and came across the top with Strauber and Richie in tow. When we turned down Detweiler, Straub and Richie put their derailleurs to good use and I kept Wes just in my sights on the descent. He managed to stay just out of reach through the climb and descent to Bear Meadows, but we hit Lonberger as a group of about 6. Wes got the hole shot into the woods and managed to ride out of sight as I rode behind a bunch of 3 that was just barely slower than I would have liked, but not so slow that I could have realistically come around.
As we turned up towards three bridges I saw the first casualty as Chipper stood hunched over pumping up his tire. I came into 3 bridges with The Leg leading the bunch and 2 geared riders behind him. The Leg dismounted and ran at the first bridge and, fearing the same from the guys behind I started hollering to let them know that I intended to ride through. I didn’t see many faces, but I heard familiar voices all around me urging me to ride through. Approaching the rocks the riders ahead hesitated searching for the line and I held up, knowing I’d need momentum to carry through. Nearly in a track stand, I hollered again as the lead rider fell and the guy behind him bobbled. They both snarled at me as I approached but had just barely managed to get up and running by the time I hit the rocks, to the cheers of the local spectators. On the other side, as we started the climb I rolled up to the guys who’d fallen and apologized for my impatience, but, I explained, “I’m a local, and if I’d not cleared those rocks I’d be hearing about it all year long!”. I received begrudging understanding and we headed up the climb. Wes was in my sights, but not for long as he hit the descent with a full complement of geared riders and they were off like a shot when it turned down and I had to roll the descent alone. I hit the bottom alone, and knew that, rolling or standing, I’d be waiting for a geared rider to pull me across the flats into Aid 2 so I paused to unload the 3 water bottles I’d consumed so far, at which point I missed my first ride when Chipper rolled past. Gunner also had made it past and I hopped back on the bike hoping for a friendly draft. Soon enough, Jacob came flying into my peripheral vision and I hopped on his wheel. He was in full tuck and cranking in the big ring and we quickly bridged up to Gunner, who hopped on the train. The three of us came into Aid 2 together and made short work of stop. As the road turned up Jacob drifted back and Gunner and I headed into the climb up Greenlee together. Gunner was riding strong and he started to walk away from me about half way up. I kept him just in my sights, but I was no match for him on the descent and he was well out of sight by the time I hit the bottom.
On the flats at the bottom I started feeling cramps in my hamstrings and eased up to try and ride through them. Just as I started to work it out I heard tires behind me and jumped on Richie’s wheel all the way into Seeger. There were a handful of guys at the start of the climb and I could just make out Gunner ahead. I started to the steady work of picking off guys on the climb but Gunner was riding steady and I couldn’t make any time on him.
After the descent and into 3, I tried to make the stop quick, picking up a banana for the cramps and a little sugar from Tracy to keep the spirits up. Cathy said Strauber was just ahead and I hit Sassafras feeling reasonably good. My gear was lighter than usual, but I still dismounted and walked parts of the bottom of the climb where traction was an issue. As I approached the top I caught one rider ahead of me and was within 30 ft of Strauber as we came out onto the road. Back into the singletrack we had a group of 4 with Strauber in the lead and me in the rear. I was fatigued and fighting cramps and when the guy ahead of me eased up I didn’t have it in me to come around and Strauber got a gap and made it stick. Coming through the Lewistown Contingent I passed Greg the Leg fixing a flat and felt good about gaining a position in the single speed race, and knew that Strauber was well within striking distance on the upcoming climbs. I passed Strauber hollering about the Heed in his bottle on Cooper’s Gap road and took the lead in the local’s race, but was caught by Les Leech, which meant I was riding backwards in the singlespeed category. I was steady, but not terribly fast, through Beautiful and No Name and hit the road in the same position I’d started. But quickly I was joined by Benji on a singlespeed and, soon after, Strauber came blasting past, head down, with not so much as a nod. Benji commented on the odd tactic by my teammate and we rode into 4 together to find Les and Strauber filling up. I was fighting some tough cramps and debated taking a rest or riding it through. But before I could make up my mind, Strauber had taken off. I dunked my head in cooler of ice and chased after him, feeling a little dejected at the though of loosing the local’s race and a podium spot in the singlespeed race at one Aid station.
As I hit the climb up Stillhouse, Strauber came out of the woods after a nature call. He jumped on his bike and started riding ahead of me without even looking back. After a few pedal strokes, when it was obvious that he was digging deep to hold his position I hollered up to him, “Strabuer, I love you like a brother, but I’m going to have to kick your ass today”. Without missing a beat he shouted back,”I’m going to drop you like Rabobank dropped Rassmussen”. The mood lightened a little bit, I admitted to him that I was cramping pretty bad, but that I was pretty sure I could take him on those last few climbs and he assured me that there was 10 miles of flats ahead and I had no hope. I slowly crept past him and hit the forestry gate with a 20 second gap, once back on my bike and pedaling I heard Strauber yell out with cramps when he dismounted to get under the gate and I yelled back to him to “ride it out”. Thinking I had him now, I lowered my head for the climb. Near to the top Benji rolled up and make a slow speed pass that took almost a minute, but got him enough of a gap that I couldn’t see him once the trail turned down. I passed Benji stopping for a rest in the blueberries and managed to hold Strauber at bay until Sand Mountain Rd. He pulled up along side of me and we rode together for a bit until he decided to drop the hammer and put a gap in coming into Poe trail. I’ve always been slow on that road and Strabuer was able to take advantage of the gap, gaining 2 minutes on me by the time I hit Aid 5. On the rail grade I my legs felt OK and I kept the spin high, but I knew that I was just waiting for geared riders to catch me and pull me in. Approaching the last climb I was caught by Benji, another geared rider, and Jacob, who was pulling off a stunning recovery. Benji and I dropped the other two on the climb, but he slowly walked away from me on the ascent. Speeding down the other side Jacob caught back up and we hit the Fisherman’s trail together. Never the prettiest trail, we worked our way across the singletrack and came back out on the rail grade within a few seconds. He could easily have dropped me in that short gap, but held up and we rode together back into Coburn trading off pulls hoping at least to hold our position. Just before the last bridge, Mike Kuhn came screaming past us and never looked back. He later would tell us that he was pretty sure we were going to sprint at the finish and he wasn’t up for it so he pushed through to get away from us. His prediction was right, and as we hit the asphalt and made the right-hand turn into Coburn Jacob said to me, “You know we have to sprint for it”. Of course, that would come from the guy with a choice of chainrings, but I consented and we made the right-hand turn into the park. I knew my only hope was an early gap and spun up as soon as we hit the dirt. I almost held the lead, but he came around me on the left-hand bend and drifted into my bike with a loud clang. We both eased up, but he was already carrying enough momentum to roll in just ahead of me.
I finished in 8:23, nearly half an hour faster than last year. I was the third local, and the 4th singlespeed (Wes, Gunner, and Benji all rolled in ahead). Strauber took home the local title a mere 6 minutes ahead of Jacob and me. In the big show, Jeremiah took the win over Harlan, but both managed to beat Chris’s course record.
This was the fastest 101 on record, nearly everyone managed to drop their times
(mine would have been good enough for the singlespeed win last year). Billy and Richie both finished strong, Chipper and Joe both abandoned. Lewis finished his first 101, on a singlespeed no less, and was happy with his gear (for which I was thankful after all the trash talk and subterfuge on Friday). From the Shop, Frank, Glover, and Beth all turned in good rides. After the race Nita and I took the dogs to the stream to cool off (and for me to clean off), I got the best massage I’ve ever had (thanks again Steph!) and we settled in with ice cold beers to cheer in the remaining riders. The spirits were high all around after the race and there was a big contingent of locals among the riders, spectators, and volunteers to keep us entertained until the last rider came in around 9:30. All in all, a great day. The ride was good, I rode well, and go to catch up with all the folks that I’ve missed by not riding the ultra circuit this year.
Now, time to recover. Off to San Jose for work this week, then one more week before heading to Paris for what may prove to be the most foolish idea I’ve ever had!
