Epic. The only word I can use to describe the weekend.
Dakota Five-o, a last minute addition to the race calendar, was like no other.
Our crew hit the road Friday after work for the ten plus hour haul to Spearfish, SD. Accommodations were fabulous in our down town tour
guide's parent's pad. Thanks Johns! A special thanks to
Mieke for the race support!
Fast forward one day, a good nights sleep, a long
pre-ride, some good camaraderie and we were on the starting line Sunday morning.
Smokey the Bear dropped his hand for the parade lead out as we rolled on to, what was to be, the most challenging course of my cycling career. Fifty miles with over 6,700 feet of climbing. Not knowing the who's who of South Dakota's mountain bike racing made things a bit more tenuous as we hit the first climb out of town.
The pace was blistering. A thirty man lead group was instantly whittled down to seven as the lactic tub filled. At that moment I was wondering how a four hour ride could go on at this pace! Pop, Pop! We were down to five riders. It's certainly amazing how hard it is to close a five yard gap at red line on a 15% - 20% gradient.
Into the uphill single track, and off the pace by 5 seconds, I rallied to bridge. Former champs and Colorado natives weren't making it easy. I could see the lead group shatter as the race took shape and gaps formed. It would be an epic haul from here on out!
Climb, climb, and climb was the name of the game. By
mid race the
knife was dull. With my face on the stem I put the 26 tooth to use. A mental battle more than anything, the race was taking a toll.
Past the bacon station, and a short late race bonk, I found some power for the final climbs. Not knowing the situation ahead, or behind, I knew the final ten miles down to town would be crucial. I had no idea how crucial.
With four to go, a slip of focus, and an evil stump, sent me jetting into the woods. My initial reaction was disbelief followed by a "my collar bone is broken!" Fighting off panic, I caught my breath and remounted only to be caught by two riders. Not good.
Adrenaline closed the gap and I had to quickly make a plan. We hit the final gravel road as a trio. One rider on a single speed and the other milking a 15 psi front tire. I knew I had the single speed in the sprint and railing the final corner would give me the gap over the other. Success.
I rolled over the line in just under four hours of the most painful racing I have ever experienced. I will be doing it again!
See you at the Fat!
