Mid-Season Catch-Up, 2x12 Too Soon and Hilly Billy Here We Come!

by Betsy & Gunnar.

The Shogrens last checked in after the Dirty Kanza 200 -
Gunnar's tale of woah
Betsy's tale of inspiration
But have hardly been sitting idle since. In fact, we might benefit from sitting a bit more idle, but there have been too many fun races and we don’t like to sit around getting rusty.

The weekend after the DK200, we jumped right in to do the

Big Bear 2 x 12

This race is not to be missed, at all costs. DO IT!
The Race
The Results

We signed up in the highly-stacked coed-duo category and figured we’d be happy with a top 5, considering our legs/bodies/minds were taking their good old time returning from the dirt roads of Kansas. Well, to make a long story short, we ended up 2nd, which was thrilling. Cassie and Jeremy were not to be beaten on their home court, and we benefited from some bad luck by the Harding Family of Philly and outrode a whole host of others to surpass them all for second!

Gunnar & Betsy about to fill their steins, PeTey hanging out too. Mark handing them out, Julie doing the important part of getting the cheques!

After a rather grim yet understandably poor first lap sitting pretty in 5th we really did get faster and rallied hard for the rest of the day.
Unfortunately, Betsy ended up with a souvenir of some bruised/cracked/broken ribs that occurred just 3-4 miles into her last lap.
Here is her tale of woe (woah) -
"I bodyslammed into a nasty rock garden and immediately felt some inner organs being skewered by my ribs like a shish kabob. Ok, I might be slightly exaggerating, but not really. However, Kathleen was hunting me down on this last lap, as I had already witnessed her unhappiness at being in third place and she was fired up to steal this 2nd place from us. There was no time to speculate on whether or not my kidney was stuck on my rib and I hauled my sorry arse off those rocks and whimpered my way through that lap. Despite this memorable incident, my third lap was faster than my 2nd lap! Here it is 2 months later and I still have to sleep with a pillow under my ribs and have some weird lumps over my rib bones."

Betsy looking a little out of it after her bumpy ride. Luckily there's a big bag of chips close at hand...

For Gunnar's part, he got to choose the gear du jour, and it was 33x19. A tad heavy probably, but we really didn't want to concede anything on the fast sections of the course. This meant that we really have to muscle up the grunts, and he's happy to report that he actually was able to make it up all the climbs in that stiff thing. Bunny did not, but just had to scoot her butt up 1 hill.

Gunnar needing some help, and Sally doing her best.

Turns out our closest real competition at the end was from our team mates, though not class mates, ToddL and JamesB, who both rode very well in the high-speed low-drag Open class. ToddL even had a tangle w/ a Cougar out there on the last lap. No lie!



Our Tomac Flint 29er SSs rode smooth, predictable, fast, and steady right from the get go.
Grrrr means go for us!

Shortly after the BB 2x12 race was another of our favorite races

ABRA’s Hilly Billy Roubaix

HBR Reg Page
HBR Results
This is another DO NOT MISS race!
Big decision beyond what gear to use, was the choice of tyres. Go w/ the fast rolling bomb proof tyres, the Kenda Tendrils that we used for the DK200, or go w/ last years choice and a little lighter 700x35c Kenda Small Block 8? With all the climbing, I decided to go w/ the SB8. Either one would have been a good choice I think though!
Here's Betsy's tale of dumbination -
"In a fine showing of CycleDumb Training, I absolutely insisted to gunnar that I would do this race on my singlespeed cross bike, despite the fact that my ribs were obviously having some issues and stabbing pain ensued every time I stood on a bike. His advice that I should probably race my geared bike was spot-on, but we all know it’s better to endure 5 hours of stabbing pain than to admit to your significant other that he/she was right."

Betsy getting through Little Indian Creek Extension in fine style

Betsy and her trusty SS on the top rung again!

Gunnar’s legs had crawled their way out of the Kansas ditch and hitched a ride back to WV, though he was unfortunately thwarted by 3 flat tires. He still grabbed a second in the SS class! W00t!
Are you ready for Gunnar's tepid tale? -
"After my failed attempt at 200+ miles of gravel grandeur, and the ensuing loss of most of the water in my body, I was determined to get rehydrated, and then try and really keep that weight low.
At BB 2x12 I wasn't totally recovered yet, but I was light, by the next week, I was getting there and then by the time HBR rolled around I was really feeling good.
I was feeling well enough that I actually ran a gear 2 teeth larger than last year, 41x19. Started out in fine shape, after going through Little Indian Creek Extension the break was made and I was in it. Crossed 19 w/ nary another group in sight, headed up the first long climb and the old backend of the bike started getting squishy. Poopie pants.
Got the rear tyre off, started fixing my flat, and others came by. Had a little issue w/ reinflating, more came by. Finally got going again, blasted up, blasted down, got on McCurdysville Rd, sheared some others, climbed up McCurdysville Pike, romped past a few more, made my way down the backside and then back onto Hagans Rd., started that mean old climb there and caught some more chaps. My buddy ChrissyM informed me that teammie NateA and 1st SS BernieS were just up the road. Yay!
By the top of Long Drain I had got them both. Then we all went down that road, heading for Route 7. Good boy Nate was trying to help me shake Bernie, but he just kept on coming back, evidently he was riding pretty well too.
Finally we got to Buckeye Rd, went across the bridge and started going up Ripleys Run, to the "un a fish al" Hilly Billy checkpoint. Going up the shallow grade I was starting to get away from both Bernie and Nate. Hooray!
Got to the top, declined the jello-shot, did take in a Raw Rev bar and some water and... for an instant considered putting a little more air in my rear tyre. 'It'll beallright, I want to keep this gap from Bernie.' So I was now back in 1st for the SS and 4th overall.

Gunnar riding in between fixing flats.

But that was not for long, for right before Ripleys dumps onto Little Shannon, I flatted again. Double poopie pants!
So I crawled down to Little Shannon and went about the business again. Said "Hello" to all those folks that passed me back again, Bernie, Nate, Roger, and a host of others until BenjiK came and I was all kinds of ready to get going again.
Benji and I trundled on, him blabbing like he does so well and me trying to figure out where I was in the group. As the roads meandered up towards Hines Ridge I lost Benji and started catching a lot of those folks that had been so kind as to pass me and ask if I needed a tube or something.
Blow through the 2nd Aid Station, up the stiff climb over I79 and up to "Whatever it is" Ridge. Cruising there was nice and at the end Maggie was there with a sign special for me, pointing the way to the Local Line. Oh how sweet.

Maggie showing me the way. Right before my 3rd and final flat.

And down I went from there, bombing the burned up "road", catching a few more folks, crawling my way back up. Right before I came out to Sperm Loop, it happened again. My third flat. Must have bombed too much, or I'm getting fat, or I'm just running low on good fortune.
This time I was getting my wheel off and my friend Doug M came by, asked the usual "do you need anything" and I replied w/ "yes, I need a tube!" for I had run now out.
Got that flat fixed, put an extra 10 pumps in it just for something to do and was off going yet again. Pedal, pedal, pedal.
Got by MarcG and he offered words of encouragement but thought I was 5th SS, and that was not were I wanted to be. So I disposed of him and kept going.
Stopped at the 3rd Aid Station, at Ma and Pa Petsko's house/Goat Farm, filled up the Camelback water bottles, grabbed some Raw Rev bars, thanked the nice folks, then asked RyanP where the next SS fellow was. He thought he was a couple minutes up the road and didn't think that I'd be able to catch him.
Going up Number 8 Hollow I caught that poor sod, saw a few others on 19 and the fire was reignited, now if only my tyres and tubes would cooperate... Got some help going down Cassville Mt. Morris Rd. from a geared fellow that let me sit in as he drug me to Rt 7, and then once heading up that formidible climb I disposed of him. How mean.
Then it was up to the top, then down, speeding all over, chasing whatever ghosts were ahead of me, namely one Roger Masse and Bernie Shiao.
Finally, going up the last climb before being inside the Mylan Park proper I saw him. A single SSer. Not going too fast. 'I must catch him before or shortly after we turn into the park, if I don't it will be over.' And so I did.
'Hi Roger. :) '
I think we went down the hill pretty much together but I was able to get some time and distance on him before the top and then finish.
2nd place in the SS class. With the unhappy footnote of having 3 flats (and just using a good old fashioned hand pump).

One of us doesn't know what to do, one of us is going a bit crazy, one of us has a steady hand on the rudder.


It was a good day, fun and hard racing."

One of my motos also ran lead. Only got dumped once in Little Indian Creek Extension I was told too!

Heck I'm tired again just having written all this...

Doin' what needs to be done at the end of the day.
Hairwolf, Benji and Sequoya helping out.

Since then we’ve been having a great summer participating in the ABRA and WVMBA series and counting our lucky stars to have such great local racing. Every weekend delivers some sort of new adventure and we wouldn’t have it any other way. While only one more ABRA road race remains, the next 7 weekends have some sort of fun MTB race or another, followed by the ABRA CX Series.

More soon to follow. Pinky promise.

SEQUINS IN YOUR STANS

“I always start these events with very lofty goals, like I’m going to do something special. And after a point of body deterioration, the goals get evaluated down to basically where I am now – where the best I can hope for is to avoid throwing up in my shoes.”

-Nuclear engineer and ultra runner Ephraim Romesberg, sixty-five miles into the Badwater Ultramarathon

Wilderness 101 is long over and I feel bad taking this long to write a post but I’m not sure even weeks after if I can accurately describe how I felt about the whole thing. All I really know is it was a blast. A week or two prior, we hiked up to Ellicottville, NY for a little race called 6 Hours of Power. The town was adorable, but I was seriously lacking any motivation to race. I was more interested in a new found little game of packrafting; pedaling to some far off exotic location, inflating a sub-five pound kayak, loading bike and gear on front, then paddling off around glaciers, fishing and whale-watching. Big dreams right? Luckily for me they never stop rolling. Guiltily, I lined up at the start next to a really excited Palermo girl, knowing

good and well that I only wanted to do a cross-country race that day. So I rode four laps and hunkered down in the shade while everyone else suffered like dogs in the heat.

The night before Wilderness all I could think was- if this is as hot as 6HOP or as brutal as Stoopid 50, I’m going to die. I felt just okay at Lumberjack, but still by no means ready for another

hundred miler. I haven’t even pedaled a century on the road this year and haven’t slept in two days. Stoopid is one of my all time favorite races but it’s packed full of rocky single track that most people can’t handle for a couple hours. I finished two minutes behind Misty in 6^th place in under six hours. I just can’t stomach the idea of doing that twice in one day. Not yet anyway.

The entire campground was silent by 9pm the night before and everyone was scrambling at 5am when the gong went off. I watched Montana’s girlfriend picking almonds and quinoa out of the lid of an almond can. The whole 90 lbs of her if that made me feel too guilty to eat a ‘hardy’ breakfast before the race. My stomach was in knots anyway so half a bagel and an egg white would have to do.

Somehow after crawling out of the port-o-john I ended up smack on the start line in front of 350 riders. I have absolutely no right being up here, I thought to myself but stayed in front, tucked into the 27mph pace set by the would be leaders and took off grinding up the first climb. After a mile or so, I settled down. This is insane- I can NOT ride this hard this early in a race. God I can’t ride this hard in a thirty mile race! Ruthie and Misty passed me near the top and tore off while I settled into a nice calm chug a lug lug. I thought for sure they’d both beat me as the mojo settled into my feet. I still wasn’t awake yet. Finally after a grueling six mile climb or so, we started down another hill and I slowly started to wake up and grab wheels for short pulls on flat sections. I couldn’t

believe we still hadn’t found any single track but I wasn’t upset with that either. The pine forests and miles of ferns and boulders were great scenery. Even the occasional dead porcupine was better than getting torn apart in rock gardens. By the time I reached the first aid station I had only drank one bottle of water and started feeling better. The next hill was a familiar one. I caught back up to Ruth near the top and excited to finally have someone to ride with she tore off and tried to ditch me. I caught her again on the downhill after picking off a few straggling

guys who got in the way and on the next climb I turned around and she was out of sight. It’s a race, so in a sick sadistic sort of way, that made me feel better. By the time I finally found some single track I also started catching up with a bunch of riders I remembered blowing by me on the first climb. I felt a small grin spreading across my face when I rolled across the three bridges because the photographer, instead of shouting great job, or keep it up Buerkle,

just threw in my face that Rob was waaaay ahead of me. Hmm, I thought…. I’ll go faster then. So I set a goal for the day. I left the single track with a small entourage of guys from CT and Baltimore who had a nice pace going into Aid station two. At this point I didn’t realize we were 40 miles into the race and I was finally starting to feel good, so I took off with one bottle and munched on a few clif blocks.

Shortly after the Magic Carpet Ride we pedaled down a couple hills that literally made my legs quiver. This hill and every hill after that actually. The theme of the race was grind for five miles to the top of a road, then bomb down ¾ of a mile of gnarly single track. Most I recognized from the old Stoopid 50 course and just fell in love with them.

The heat started climbing by the time I got to aid station 3. I had to leave my camelback thinking it’d be good to stretch out a little. I started off with a mouth full of Pringles again oblivious to the mileage and just before the ‘beer station’ I finally caught up to Misty. She really wasn’t feeling well, so happily I trudged up the next climb and grinning ear to ear tore off down the next piece of deer trail. On a downhill, before aid station 4 I think I passed a dozen guys walking their bikes.

When I got to the 4^th aid station, there were a couple women who decided to quit and for the first time that day I was a little curious about where I was placed in ladies field. The shade felt great but I knew if I didn’t keep moving I would blow up. It had finally hit me that this was roughly 70 miles into the race and not once had I thought about quitting. I stuffed another handful of Pringles in my mouth and rolled down around the bend. Just a few hundred yards away a sharp 90 degree turn yielded another disgusting climb. A little chipmunk must have heard me sigh because he started snickering as I started hiking. According to my number plate this would be a long one. I was so completely discouraged and exhausted to care about pedaling or reaching any specific time goal. I didn’t care at this point. I still felt good but was getting really tired. Like sleepy tired but still never thought about quitting. I was really enjoying myself. At the top of that climb Mark Liti caught up to me and we spent the next 30 miles pushing each other on the road sections. There was one final rocky downhill road leading into the last aid station that left my fork saturated in oil and stiff as a board so with numb arms and a grumpy knee I did what any normal person would do- I stopped to pee. I was a little grumpy because I was hungry and got dropped by some chick that talked way too much and was too happy to be 10 hours into a ride. After yet another wonderful mouth full of Pringles, an empty bladder and defending the half a brain I have with the aid station guys over my broken fork, I rolled out again glued to Marks wheel for another ten miles of baking on the rail trail.

By this point I was absolutely exhausted. I didn’t care who passed me or how long it took to finish as long as I didn’t pass out from the heat. I was nauseous and hungry but couldn’t stomach another gulp of water or food. After one final death march I hung on through the last downhill sort of feeling guilty for leaving a guy basically dying from heat stroke at the top. A few gun shots went off as we hiked through the boulder garden and I couldn’t help but muster out ‘geez mister just put me out of my misery’… I was still grinning. After this crappy section of rocks it’d be smooth sailing. I lazily hiked across the narrow railroad bridge and we popped out of the other side of the tunnel this time subtracting nearly taking out a group of kids with rafts and rolled into the finish. Barely rolling, but it felt good to finish. A high five sealed the deal and I ended up 8^th in the women’s field.

A few minutes later I was laying in the babbling stream when some guy decided to throw up in the creek maybe a foot away from me. I just sat there. I couldn’t move I hurt so bad, then finally grossed out went to eat dinner. Twice.

Dynamic Physical Therapy - Specialized Care

BIcycle Racing, for your (Mental) Health

Bicycle racing, good for your body and your mind. Being part of this cycling team this season has probably done more good for my mental health than anything else. Having a group of supportive team mates encouraging me to get back in the saddle, as well as so many generous sponsors to facilitate our racing has helped me move past some difficult personal issues this year.

It all began with JR our, team director, dragging me, no ifs ands or buts, all the way to Lake Placid for the Wilmington/Whiteface 100k Leadville Qualifier. I was feeling down on my fitness and mentally unprepared but after spinning around Lake Placid and registering for the race I was starting to feel that familiar pre-race excitement. Early to bed, earlier to rise and we were off to the races. JR, bless his big heart, kept me in the race until my second wind which helped me put in a respectable 4 1/2 hour race finishing 38th

overall.

After a much needed confidence boost Todd LaTocha and I prepared for the Big Bear 2x12. Another excellent showing of personal support and team morale with the Dynamic Physical Therapy Cycling Team setting up shop in the VIP section. Consistency was key for Todd and I to take 5th place in the Men's Open Pro/Expert Field. This was a great accomplishment and also helped to further boost my self-esteem as a racer. It also brought me closer to my teammates as we cheered each other on to excellent results in their fields.

The most recent, sorry JR, and most challenging race of my season was the Hill Billy Roubaix. Coming off of a head cold I found myself quickly red-zoned and walking some of the very first climbs. After reaching the first aide station I had a lot of quit inside of me. I walked around and decided to wait for fellow teammate and long time cycling buddy, Robbie Loehr.

Robbie had suffered a double flat just a few short miles into the race and knew after that he was out of the running. However, we decided to solider on. We rode the next 55ish miles together talking, joking, dragging each other up the climbs, and down the twisty, narrow decents, drag raced down 50 mile and hour hill. Even though our finishing times were greater than we had hoped we probably had more fun than anyone else that day. For things like that I am greatful.

6 Hours of Cramps!

Last weekend I headed up to Ellicottville, New York with a posse of cyclist friends from Pittsburgh. Why such a far drive for a bike race you ask? Well it was for a 6 hour mountain bike race and to make it even better they have had a Solo Clydesdale category. That is a big bucket of win if you ask me.

We headed up to camp the night before the race. The camping area held about 20 to 30 other campers/racers if I had to guess, the funny thing was I knew pretty much all of them. That made for a pretty fun evening with a nice group of folks including my wife. The night consisted of dinner in town and Spin Tap projected on a white sheet at the camp site. After that it was bed time and off to dream land.

The next morning it was hot out! The race didn’t start till 10 am so it was just going to get worse and heat is not my friend when I am racing. Drink, drink, drink was the order of the morning to try and be hydrated for the race. After tooling around all morning it was finally race time. It was a running start to our bikes and I found myself lining up at the front. I kinda laughed at myself in my head, “why am I up here”. Steevo was on one side and Tim Carson on the other. It wasn’t like I would be seriously competing with those two. I am more of a third or fourth row kinda guy. LOL.. However I just went with it. As soon as the race director blew his whistle we were off on the short run of around 1/8 mile, then it was onto our bikes.

The course was 8.5 miles long and the goal was to do as many laps as you could in six hours, sounds simple right? The route started climbing pretty much from the get go. Up the Holiday Valley Ski Resort Mountain we went. I found myself feeling not bad despite it being at least 88 degrees already. After a mile or so of climbing we hit the first section of single track and IT happen! I felt a small cramp in my right calf. “This cannot be happening we just started”, I thought to myself. I cramp a lot in endurance events but never 10 minutes into the race. I pedaled through till it passed however I knew once it started it was not going to stop.

Once you finish the climb up the mountain the rest course is 90% single track. It was fast, extremely dry and a boat load of fun. Luckily it was very shaded also because the heat was creeping higher. Again the trails were fun!

After lap one I found myself in second in the solo Clydesdale field and the cramps held off for the rest of the first lap. A fast pit for a new bottle and some food and I found myself headed up the mountain again for lap number two. At the top the cramps in my legs started again but this time they were not just in my calves but also in my hamstrings now. I must admit I started to worry a bit. I drove a long way for this race and I would hate to end my day early. I tried to slow down a bit and pressed on. On lap three I found myself in the lead but the cramps were really starting to set in and I was less than three hours into the race. To be frank, I wanted to call it a day but how the hell do you justify quitting when you’re in the lead? I don’t like DNFing when I am in last let alone first.

Lap four and five of the race hurt really bad. The time on the bike was not an issue but the cramps forced me to stop from time to time and stretch. I was so worried someone was going to bridge up to my while I was doing so. The heat was also really bad at this point and that didn’t help much. I suffered though lap five and when I came into the pit for more water and food Gina total me I was not only leading the Clydesdale class but was in 5th in the normal solo class. I was dumb founded by that. I knew I was riding ok but with all the stopping for the cramps I was amazed to be doing that well. Off I went for the last lap.

I had planned on getting a second wind to help me through the last lap. I kinda figured I would be able to dig deep for the last one to hold my lead. Well the second wind never came. I fell apart on the last lap. The cramps were crushing and the 95 degree heat made it even worse. I thought to myself you just got to keep going. It was only 8 miles to the finish but it was one of the hardest 8 miles ever for me. There was some pushing of the bike but I made it to the finish somehow. I was so happy to be done. I ended up with 53.32 miles with 8,132 feet of climbing. WOOF! GPS DATA.

I was able to hold on for the win in the solo Clydesdale class and would have finished 6th in the normal solo class. I guess the heat was an issue to everyone and I guess I was not the only on suffering out there.

The course and race were a lot of fun. I am sure going to try and make it back next year! Thanks again to all my friends and Gina who went up with me.. What a blast and ass kicker at the same time..

Don’t call it a Comeback

My last post was sooo long ago. It was about Nicole Dorinzi and I winning the Big Bear 2x12. Things really went downhill after that!!! Robbie and I camped the night of the race and then headed down to Durham, NC the next day to find a place to live. Yes, Robbie and I are moving away from Morgantown! I am starting a new job at Duke next week in the Biology Department, but don’t worry…we won’t be cheering on their basketball team! Anyway, the entire trip down to NC I was having severe back pain. It was so bad that I couldn’t even get it together to drive the car. It was a strange kind of pain, not the usual strained or sore muscle. It was persistence and burning and I couldn’t touch it. Around the same time, my skin around my waist on the left side of my body became really sensitive. Even my shirt brushing against it made my shin itch. Late in the week a rash started to form in the same area and I immediately thought that the Big Bear race had not only given me massive back pain, but also poison ivy. Blisters eventually started and then the inflicted area kept getting bigger and bigger. I just ignored it and assumed it was something I was just going to have to do my best to ignore and just suffer through. Besides, the Hilly Billy Roubaix was my season goal and it was just around the corner. The next weekend Robbie and I pre-rode the first half of the Hilly Billy because I wanted to make sure I knew what I was in for and I wanted to test out my equipment. I decided to ride my Cannondale Caffeine 29er with Kenda Small Block 8 700x35C cyclocross tires. It was so much fun!!! The course was super wet from the recent rains. We had to call JR on the Little Indian Creek extension because we couldn’t even find the road! I got so excited about the race that I called my good friend Tricia Lewis to convince her to race it on her 29er and she agreed. This race was going to be the ultimate ending to my WV racing career.


Monday rolled around and it was 5 days until the Hilly Billy Roubaix. My poison ivy was still spreading and getting worse, so I decided it was time to do something I dreaded…seek medical attention. Robbie and I headed over to MedExpress to see if they could do something to halt my plant-based affliction. I was given a shot of steroids in the rump and a prescription for prednisone. They predicted I would start feeling better in two days and would definitely be ready to race. Later in the afternoon Robbie sent a picture of my nasty blisters to everyone’s favorite cycling physician, Scott Benson. He immediately wrote back and informed us that I had shingles, not poison ivy. I immediately started researching the signs and symptoms of shingles and soon realized Dr. Benson was spot on. Shingle is basically the chicken pox’s revenge. Most of us have had chicken pox as a child. The virus remains dormant in you nervous system. As adults, if we become immunocompromised due to extreme stress (selling a house + starting a new job + finding a place to live + endurance mountain bike racing) the virus can awaken, cause severe nerve pain, and travel along your nerves until it comes out the nerve endings on your skin in the form of super sensitive open sores that ruin your life for a couple of weeks. I was devastated and completely pathetic. I literally couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t even wear a T-shirt because the pain was so bad. It took all my energy to make the jello shots I promised as race refreshments. The day of the Hilly Billy Roubaix, I sat in the house with Netflix waited for text messages about my teammates and friends who were racing. Life is so unfair! The first text I got was to tell me that Besty Shogren had come in as the first women in just over 5 hours. Next I found out that Nicole Dorinzi was the second women to cross the finish just 14 minutes later. Robbie, James Braswell and Christina Burkle road together and finished around 6 hrs. Robbie called me a little later and I talked to him and my friend Tricia. They both had a great time racing the hellish course. I decided then, that I would just have to come back next year!
This last week I finally started to feel good enough to get back on the bike. I did a few shorter rides to get my strength up and then I ask JR and a good friend of team Dynamic, Justine Pagenheart, to ride the second half of the Hilly Billy course with me. If I couldn’t race it because of a horrific disease, I could at least ride the entire thing, damn it. We had a blast!

JR was on his new Cannodale SuperX and definitely had a case of new bike legs. I tried my best to keep up with him by taking advantage of his hospitable draft and we finished the ride in just over 3 hours. It was 90 degrees out and I was really missing the aid stations. My CamelBak bottles were empty starting the long climb just past the coal mine on Fort Marin. Luckily aid station 3 was still in effect at the Petsko’s house and Gina had frozen towels, lemonade and popsicles for us!!! Now, I think every ride should include popsicles… or ice cream.

As cyclists we ask a lot of our bodies and, and very often, even more of ourselves. Testing one’s limits both mentally and physically can be extremely rewarding, but I urge everyone to remember to be kind to yourself and your bodies. If you don’t, nature has a really funny way of putting you in your place, and personally, I don’t really want to visit that place every again.
See you next year!

Post by Laura K.

Willmington/Whiteface 100K recap

Thanks to the good folks over at Cannondale and ABRAracing.com, I was fortunate enough to head up to Lake Placid New York on June 19th to participate in the inaugural Wilmington/Whiteface 100K. The Whiteface 100 is a 100 kilometer race around the greater Lake Placid area that culminates at the massive, 3500’ Whiteface Mountain. Never having done any endurance mountain bike racing before, saying I was a little nervous is a bit of an understatement. My biggest fear was dehydrating or tanking because I didn’t eat or drink enough. The previous weekend at the WVMBA Big Bear 2x12 I had suffered from some serious dehydration that landed me in the hurt locker for a few hours and completely ruined my day. After a lengthy talk with Scott Benson though, I felt that I had things under control pending that I followed his eating and drinking guidelines.
JR Petsko, James Braswell, Ryan Post, and myself headed out of Morgantown on Friday evening and, after a quick night’s layover in Batavia, NY and a run in with the law (Nice cop, expensive ticket), we arrived in Lake Placid around 3 PM on Saturday. We hustled down to the mountain base, got registered, and then headed out for a ride to loosen our legs up. The hour long spin around the area was pretty cool and we even found a little single track, albeit muddy, along the way. After hitting the Chinese buffet, where I am proud to say I out ate everyone, for some prerace carbo loading we headed back to the hotel and to bed. With a 6:30 AM start ahead of us we needed all the rest, and Ambien, we could find.
The 4:15 AM alarm was not too welcoming but after a quick bowl of oatmeal and a banana, I felt coherent enough to head out to the race. After a 30 minute spin around the parking lot and a welcome/good luck speech by mountain bike super hero Dave Weins, I was more than ready for the gun to go off. As the shotgun, seriously a real shotgun, went off we surged off the line. Things went easy for the first hundred feet or so with people trying not to crash into one and other but after that it became a hammerfest out of the resort driveway. I quickly picked a line up the right side of the group and sprinted towards the front so I could avoid the inevitable back of the pack slinky effect. After sitting around the front quarter of the group for the first paved section, I began to move to the front because being even a fourth of the way back was causing me to get slinkied. As we hit the first gravel section things started to pick up and, after getting fed up with people slowing down for the short climbs, I hopped into the ditch where no one else wanted to go. After a short, match burning effort up a small dirt climb, I settled in around 8th wheel.
The front group of 10 riders I found myself in began to move away from the main peloton pretty quickly and by the top of the gravel climb the peloton was out of sight. After bombing down a fire road and hammering back down a paved road, we arrived at the next climb. Knowing Cannondale pro and super nice guy Jeremiah Bishop is much faster and wiser than myself, I decided to do the smart thing and just follow his wheel or at least stay close to it. The pace was pretty steady going up and gave me a chance to have a short conversation with Jeremiah who, sort of to my surprise, knew about the world famous Hilly Billy Roubaix taking place the next weekend!
As we headed back onto the sandy, gravel road our group of now 10 riders formed up into a paceline behind the 3 pros of the group. 4 or 5 of us traded pulls on the front until the next climb. This is where things began to get faster. About midway up the climb, the pace picked up pretty substantially. Knowing I still had about thirty miles to go, I decided to save my matches for later in the race instead of trying to stay with the lead group of 4. After coming across the top of the climb and getting passed by a few riders on the downhill side, I decided it was time to get back on top of the gear. I was probably sitting around 12th at this point but was hoping my “slow and steady then crush it” strategy would work out.
The course, being shaped like a lollipop at the far end, meant that the long gravel decent that several riders passed me on would be a massive gravel climb on the way back. I knew this climb, being long and steady but not steep, suited me well for trying to wheel riders back in. As I started up I settled into a comfortable gear and just spun my legs out. I had saved most of my matches and, with about 13 miles to go, I knew I had better start lighting them. It didn’t take long for me to reel in several riders. It was clear that too many people had gone too hard from the gun and were paying for it now. The looks on their faces was enough to let me know that they were not going to be following my wheel.
As I neared the final aid station before the Whiteface Mountain climb, I found myself in 9th. My legs were definitely feeling the miles but the thought of being top 10 in such a big race helped me block out the aches. After a quick run through some single track, we were back on the pavement heading for the base of Whiteface. As I turned off the pavement and onto the single track that was the start of the climb, I realized just how large this mountain was. It was nearly vertical and seemed to go up forever. Again, I just settled into a gear and spun my heart out. I had been riding with another pro from up around the New York area for the last 5 miles or so but after about the first few hundred feet of the climb he cramped up super bad and dropped off my wheel leaving me alone to tame the beast of a mountain.
I popped out of the woods after a few minutes thinking that now I would get to descend down the mountain, cross the line, and get some real food. So, when I saw a marshal pointing me up a huge, loose gravel climb that went to the top of the mountain I was less than amused. Thank god I had left something in the tank and my water bottles. After having my Flash 29er for about a month or so, I had yet to utilize the granny gear. At this point, I was really glad I had it. I spun up the first section of the climb pretty easily but it was not long until I was walking. Normally I would be ashamed to admit to pushing but, in this case, it was entirely necessary. I even “attacked” for 8th place while pushing! After finding a place to remount my bike I began to spin again. Earlier in the day, on the downhill, a guy on a cross bike blew past me and crushed it down the road out of sight. I now saw him up ahead and decided that I had enough in me to make a move on him. It was an awkward battle for 7th from there. When he was able to ride, he was able to move faster than me. However, when he had to dismount and push I was able to put some time on him. We battled it out up that climb for what seemed like an hour but in reality was only about 15 minutes. Finally, we were side-by-side and he dismounted. I knew if I could beat him to the top there was no way he could get back on my wheel on the downhill so I dug deep and went as hard as I could for about 30 seconds. At the end of the effort I looked back and realized he was done. I kept a steady pace the rest of the way to the top and then began the super fast descent to the finish. After twisting down through the last section of single track, I popped out onto the ski slope and was headed for the few hundred yards to the finish. With the crowd cheering, I crossed the line in 7th and claimed my medal and belt buckle. After a short spin to cool down, I got changed, grabbed some barbeque, and headed over to watch the rest of our team finish. Again, thanks to Cannondale for giving myself and the others the opportunity to go to such a big race. I think endurance racing may be my new found calling.

- Todd Latocha