Wilderness 101 Ride Report

I waffled for weeks on whether to do the 101 race or not, but I ended up pulling the trigger and registering a week ago. With the monsoon that all of PA got on Friday I was of course regretting my decision.

Once I pulled into Coburn Park and waited for B. Schmalzer and K-Aho, who were lost in the mountains somewhere, I started to feel a little better, and once B&K actually arrived, followed soon by Steve-O, Young Sam, Rob, Chrissy, Jake, etc., and we set up camp, I started feeling much better and more relaxed about the race and the weekend.

After a night of hanging out talking bikes with all these folks, I crawled into the back of the xB for a pretty good nights sleep. The next thing I knew it was 5 a.m. and I was stumbling around trying to shove some breakfast in my face and get ready for the race.

There were a TON of racers on the starting line at 7 a.m.. Some BIG names, some no names, and everyone in between. The rolling start down the streets of Coburn looked reminiscent of shots from the Pro Tour with a mass of multi colored jerseys, helmets, and bikes in one undulating mass of human velo-ness. It was super cool to watch.

Rolling out of the alley during the start with JR on my left.

We made the sweeping left onto the forest road and the first climb of the day and I settled into a nice middle ring pace. I passed JR, the OBR, and a few other friends as I made my way through the field. The legs were feeling really good and I was stoked.

OK, now for the rest of this report I ask you to please use the attaced Wilderness 101 Jason Suck-O-Meter as your guide-

ONE: Just as we crested the first climb and started down a bit I saw Pete W. So I hammered down and hooked up with him. We seemed to be keeping a similar pace and I started what would be me pulling Pete for the next 50+ miles. Pete did some work. Oh wait, not he didn't! ;) Kidding sort of. My legs were feeling great and I was happy to be cruising along with someone, even if I was doing ALL the work! Pete jokingly claimed team tactics, I claim a lazy Pete. Or is that a smart Pete, knowing not to blow it during the first 60 miles and a dumb ass Jason NOT knowing how to not blow it during the first 60 miles of a race??

TWO: The general rule of the time Pete and I spent together was that I would hammer up the climbs and then he would then descend like a nut and I would try to follow his line as best I could. On a down hill after Aid Station #1 I was flying down a narrow ribbon of wet trail at close to 30 mph, and still could not catch Pete.

THREE: At Aid Station #2 Pete quickly grabbed some stuff and said he was going to "roll slowly up ahead" while I got my drop bag shit, and to catch him on the climb. Pete's idea of a "slow roll" is MUCH different than mine. But I did catch him just as the lonnnng forest road climb kicked up. It was at this point that the hot sun decided to break through the clouds and misty fog of the a.m.. Just in time to enhance the suffering of the climb.

FOUR: Once we crested the top, we then turned onto a nice long rocky single track decent. Again, Pete lead the way, picking some nice lines and his progress only being held up a bit by riders in front of him. Towards the end he did pull away a bit. But I'd find him again up ahead.

FIVE: I would again catch back up to Pete on the ensuing climb and again we would hammer up the climb together. I believe it was this climb that we encountered a dude dressed like a Trojan warrior dancing around whilst his son banged on a bongo drum. They had messages spray painted on the road just like the Tour, etc., It was really cool and I'm sure the dude had no idea how motivating and fun it was for the racers. Rock on Trojan Man. Rock on.

SIX: The rocky and rooty climb up out of Aid Station #3 was where I experienced the first signs of cracking. But I was able to stay within yelling distance of Pete for the most part. That was until we hit the descent. Then dude just ripped it.

SEVEN: I was starting to crack, but hanging in there. Pete and I ripped off 60+ miles quickly and I was totally geeked about my chance of besting my 9:48 mark in '05. This was the first time that I started llllonging/lust for an Aid Station.

EIGHT: When I got to Aid Station #4 I was hurting, tired, and my stomach was starting to get the signs of revolt. I drank a cup of Coke, a hand full of Pringles. I looked over and saw a group of riders who were throwing in the towel. It looked VERY inviting and I did take a minute to think about DNFing. I KNEW that the remainder of the race was gonna hurt. I went out hard, wanted to push myself and was about to pay the price for that effort. With only 26 miles to go I figured "what the f*ck how bad could I get??".

NINE: How bad could I get?? F*CKING BAD! On the climb up out of Aid #4 I was vurping up the Coke and Pringles. It tasted SOOO freaking bad. I made it about half way up the climb, put it into granny and eventually started walking. I was cooked, and sick. F*CK!! Not now!!! I had nothing. I was praying for a MAJOR mechanical to end this. Where did it got wrong?? I was eating, drinking, taking in electrolytes, but then my body just shut down. I went from having one of the best races of my life to the worst. I would ride a bit. Walk a bit. Ride/walk/ride, etc., etc., Along one section of trail I stopped to let two riders by and take a breather. Just as the ride approached we heard the warning rattles of a Rattle Snake. YIKES!! It was off the trails somewhere, but the rattle was enough to get me back on the bike, at least for a few hundred yards.

TEN: I could not believe how lllllong it took me to get to Aid 5. Again, I sat and thought about ether ending my race OR putting my head under the next bike that rolled through the Aid Station. I was hurting BAD! Again, where did it go wrong?? I wanted to quit so bad. Just to be done with it. But I just could NOT bring myself to DNF with only 12 miles to go.

ELEVEN: At this point I thought that maybe ending the race as the aid station would have been the best move. I could barely ride a half a mile without stopping. This was maybe the most miserable I have ever been on a bike or in a race. And I have sucked HARD at a LOT of races!

I could not believe how long this final climb seemed!! Folks that I member blowing by like they were standing still 40 miles ago were now doing the same to me. I was beaten down and humiliated. But there was no way to quit now, so I knew I HAD to finish. I FINALLY made it to the top of the climb and new I could cruise downhill at 30 mph to the final section of unrideable (to me) single track, and eventually the finish.

TWELVE: I bombed down hill at 30 mph to get to that final stretch of hike-a-bike, old rail road bed, tunnels and eventually the finish. During those last few miles there were a few stops to dry heave and think about chucking myself in the stream flowing next to me.

I got passed by a few dudes on the black ash trail along the river, I would catch them just before the final tunnel. As luck would have it, one of the dudes had a small light and guided all 4 of us through the tunnel. Thank you Small Light Dude! The light really showed how many big chunks of rock were in the tunnel. How the f*ck do boulders get inside a tunnel?

Anyway, after the tunnel the group of four or five of us hit the road that lead to Coburn Park. I made no effort to pass any of these guys. They worked hard, and I saw at least two of them crash on the rocks just a few miles back, they can have whatever placings were up for grabs. I was just happy to finish the f*cking race and be done. While I was happy to be done, I had NO joy crossing the line. It was the 2nd most anticlimactic finish- ever. The only time I ever felt worse crossing a line was back at Seven Springs a few years ago, when I only did four laps in the mud, but refused to DNF. But this one was damn close.

I was so far off of my finishing goal and feeling so horrible that I could care less where I finished. I know I sucked, I don't need to see the official numbers to tell me how much. Like the Lumberjack, if the 101 was The Wilderness 60 or 71 I would have been gold! I felt incredible during those first 50+ miles. But these are 100 mile races, not 100K races. Maybe I'll just say the early part of the race was me being Pete's "domestique." I got him to single track fresh, so he could put the hammer down. My work was done. I just had to beat the "broom wagon", Ha!

I think my recent finishes are a good indication that my training rides need to be longer. 3 and 4 hour rides need to get longer. Suffering is part of endurance racing. That's part of the mystique and the allure of it. Pushing yourself. I love that part of the racing, but consistently cracking so hard in every race is making me rethink my goals, and racing in general. How many more times can I crack and still have any motivation to try again??

I will say once I showered and got some food, I forgot about the misery completely. The actual race is just one aspect of an event like the 101. There were so many great folks to hang out with, and swap accounts of the race with. You realize that everyone suffered, it was just a different degrees of suffering.

While even though it would have saved me $25, I could not bring myself to register for the SM100 last night. The memory of my most recent suck fest is too fresh. I need a few days, a few beers, and maybe some high powered live stock tranquilizers to help me forget before I do something like register for another race.

Later.