Racing the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route is like the Hunger Games.
There are well trained "volunteers" from all over the world.
They are all being tracked with Satellite Trackers, so the People at home can see your every move.
They are all dropping like flies, making their announcements via MTB CAST.
AND IN THE END, THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!!!
And I knew at this point, I wasn't going to win.
I really did think going in that I had a chance for a good finish. I had a stellar year on the bike, in fact, every Ultra Endurance event I have ever finished netted me a top 5 finish 90% of the time and a top 20 finish the other 10%.
Its quite true there have been many events I didn't finish, but the fact is, that I go out there and I race. I put it all on the line, I don't mess around, and play and socialize, go out hard and fast till I drop and more often then not I drop.
BUT, since my children have grown, and my living situation and work situation have changed, I am able to put in more miles and ultimately the sport of Ultra endurance is about conditioning, not raw speed. Its about who can ride the longest the farthest and sleep less.
So, knowing full well that I wasn't the ONE, I had to create a sub category in my mind, to create a win for myself, something to motivate myself for.
I had met one other Native racer, and I was sure he was in front of me, so claiming to be the fastest Indian was out of reach. SO, I really wanted to be the fastest Floridian. I had made a side commitment to not check trackleaders while I raced, so I didn't, I never looked at it as long as I was racing. I was relying on the odd unsolicited text message from folks telling me where the other Floridians where, and from rumors and speculation. It is what I had to do to motivate myself.
Cause really, the motivation was low. I cant begin to explain and accurately communicate the amount of pain I felt from the rash I had. It wasn't a rash on my butt. It was a rash on my pubis area from shaving. And it had turn to bright red open bumps that would chafe from riding in wet gear and NOTHING I was doing was alleviating the pain. It was literally like being rubbed with sandpaper in my most private of areas all day long. ON top of that, my ankle though immobilized at this point by a brace, was painful. I had to literally be conscious of my stroke to prevent it from aching on every push and pull of the pedals.
O well, I was still doing what I had to do, devouring passes and white knuckling the downhills.
I was proud as I laid in my tent that night that I had gotten so fast and so good at tent set up. I had pitched on an old two track right in the middle of the grassy road. It was a cold ass night, I spent most of it shivering. I should of not been lazy and went and gotten the emergency bivy I had brought to add to my insulation, but instead I was bullheaded and stubborn and just toughed it out. Dumb.
I heard cars roaring on the road, and got up at day break, instantly packing camp and getting my move on into another cold morning. AT least it wasn't raining. I climbed a few 100 feet more and then I was descending. That was nice.
It was a speedy day with a few rises and a lots of downhill. Eventually the rain started again. I waited in an underpass for a minute near the town of Basin. For the most part I had really fallen in love with the forest in Montana, my passion for it only being dashed by the constant Horrendous weather. Eventually I chose to push on into the rain. My only hope for repair for my brakes was in Butte.
I was riding as fast as I could. I had a deadline for Butte, after all the shop doesn't stay open all day. It happened that the rain started turning to sleet and hail and as I was coming in tight on a left handed gravel rutted road switchback, I lost my front wheel and crashed again. I spent a few minutes cursing as Ice cubes pelted me from the sky. Again, there was no adequate options but to go faster, as I had learned that riding fast enough could sometimes get me out from under the storm. So I did that. Rode fast. Part angry about the crash, part angry that I had left my rain pants and gore tex gloves at home just to save a few grams. Ignorant.
Again I was treated to miles and miles of mostly downhill terrain and then as I was riding along a path that was on the left of the Highway, angry about all that was happening, I got LANCED by a tree right off my bike. I was skirting the edge of the road, trying to use the tree brush to break the wind, and a tree just literally hit me in the chest like a Lance from a Knight and sent me backwards off the bike crashing into the gravel. NOW I WAS REALLY PISSED.
Regardless, I pushed on. It would rain and hail and sleet. So I would put all my shit on. Then it would stop and get hot, so I would take it off. Then it would rain and hail and sleet so I would put my shit on again. and then it would get hot... I was sick of it.
Eventually I hit pavement.
AND the wind was 30 plus miles an hour right against me.
Ri Fucking Di Cu LOUS.
A Nd then on the horizon I could see a small figure.
It was a rider.
So I tucked up and raced ahead, charging into the wind.
Eventually catching up and passing DAVE from Schneider electric who was walking his bike.
I asked him what was wrong and he said that he was just tired of fighting the wind.
Wow.
I then, did the strangest thing, and rode on the highway donig a super fast downhill into Butte.
The outdoors man is right on route.
They put my bike in the stand and got to work on my brakes.
cleaned it, I put all the cash I had in their tip jar, like 30$ and then spent another 20$ on astronaut food, like gels and shot bloks. It was still hard to swallow from my ibuprofen poisoning so I was really wanting to find some product like this.
They looked real busy and they were not asking for any money for all the work they did, which I thought was odd. I mean if its only 10 people racing and you want to be generous I get it, but to just give free labor to 140+ riders is just bad business, no one expects it and no other shop on the route is doing it.
I found out that the other indian that I thought was a head off me was actually behind me. And I found out that Dave from Schneider electric had rode late into the night and stayed in a Montana Hilton at a park about 10 miles further along the route then I did.
Regardless, I left.
Went to burger king and then pedaled out of town.
Something weird was going on though. I was pedaling my ass off, but even on the downhills I could barely muster 11 mph.
I get off the bike, spin the rear wheel, and it moves on revolution and stops. I do the same for the rear and the same thing happens. Freaking great. I know my old avids where shit to begin with, I don't blame the shop, but there was no way I was going to race up over a pass in this condition, the one thing I needed was to be able to fast on the downhills and it wasn't happening.
Frustrated I pull over, call wise river and cancel my reservations. Today was the day I was going to catch up to a bunch of Florida Riders and catch up to Scott Thigpen and now all that was dashed. I decided I needed to go back to the shop. Maybe they could sand the pads, maybe they could order me new brakes or pull something off another bike to get me rolling and then order replacement parts. Something Had to be done. Once again I was mad that I didn't get new brakes before the race.. Fuck....
I turned off my gps, turned off my spot and went to the road, stuck out my thumb and then, by a miracle I got picked up. The nice guy, who I cant remember his name, gave me a ride to a hotel, I got a room and rested, waiting for the next morning to see if I could get this problem fixed with my brakes. Frustration is an understatement, I was starting to lose my motivation for the whole experience.
:(
NK
2014
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