Fun with Failure– Em’s 1/2 CTR

First, although I married Scott, who has a well established history of riding his bike really far in scenic places, the Colorado Trail Race was my idea. Scott took all of a heartbeat to agree that it was a fine idea. Plus the race started on my birthday!  Since endurance riding is not very well developed in BC, I started stacking the deck in my favor with LW Coaching’s awesome training plan.  Once I decide what the next adventure will be I will be getting another LW plan.

We drove to CO arriving the Friday before the race.  Time to visit with my father, see friends, meet new friends, drink good beer, and have a few days to help acclimate (hahahaha).  And time to ride White Ranch.

Our good friend Tory very generously drove us to the early morning start.  There was only enough time to unload, pack up, quickly meet a few folks (including the 3 other amazing women- Eszter who would go on to win (!!), Cat who would set the women’s SS record (!!), and another Emily(!!)), get the SPOT and then start rolling.

I’ve never been on a start line for any sport feeling as happy as I did August 2.  I was on holiday and I was going to ride my lovely bike for a lot of hours over the next 7-9 days.  As Scott says the race is the reward for the training and the training was just amazing.  The added mental boost came when Scott decided that this was too great an experience for a solo ride and that he’d like to ride together.  Up until that moment we had planned to ride our own races and now I would be able to share this experience with my favorite riding partner.  lucky woman!

This was doubly fortunate for me as I was relying on my bike computer, CT data book and cue sheet for navigation.  However, the first wheel revolutions showed that the computer wasn’t working!  The magnet had fallen off!  It wasn’t on my wheel!  AGGGHHHH!  A few choice words from me before Scott gets me to stop and we trade wheels.  I guess the excitement of the morning resulted in us mistakingly grabbing the other’s wheel.   Back to singletrack.  Food and water in Bailey.

The top of Kenosha held the sweetest surprise!  Jeny. Ecstatic Jeny.  Smiling Jeny.  Encouraging Jeny. Jeny with cupcakes!!!  There are times in life where you feel lucky to have met and be friends with someone.  This was just such a moment.  A moment written in 82 font, bold, italic by an artist specializing in capturing mtb bliss.  Of course, I forgot to take a picture  :(

Scott and I waited out the first thunderstorm just a handful of mins up the trail from the Kenosha campground. The second thunderstorm rolled in on the approach to Georgia pass.  We set up camp, stuffed a couple pizza pockets down and bedded down.  We had picked up emergency bivy bags a couple of days before the race and we both put our entire sleeping kit, pads and bags, into the bivy.  I pathetically draped my wet kit through the spokes of the wheel that was used to hold part of the tarp up hoping that the second storm would blow through and we’d get a dry CO night.  It rained until 2am.   I admit to being surprised at another racer who pushed over the pass in the thunderstorm.

The next morning was the beautiful CO I had come seeking.  It was the CO that matched my memories of growing up.  An hour or so of riding and then over Georgia Pass.

Down to Breck. Up the hell that was the 10 mile range.

Down the 3,000 feet to Copper.

I rode more sweet, flowy, singletrack goodness on Day 2 of my CTR adventure than in all BC training combined.  good. gooder. goodest.  We decided to sleep low in Copper rather than push towards Searle pass.  A good night’s sleep at a relatively low elevation and a chance to dry out gear.

Wheels were rolling at 4:45am and as we approached Searle pass, I saw the first lightning of the day hit the 10 mile range at 7:10 am!!!   Standing in the alpine looking to the east, I was amazed at what I had already ridden and pushed my bike over.  Unreal. Wonderful. Lucky.  And the day kept getting better.  Alpine basin between Searle and Kokomo pass.

Summit Marmot.

Not taking pictures of the molybdenum mine waste management.

Scott was thriving.  He totally dropped me on the descent into Camp Hale.  I don’t know how he does it.  Geared, soft-tail me vs. rigid SS him.   I am used to BC riding and kept expecting the trail to drop out from under my wheels when the riding called for being relaxed and looking further down the trail.

A storm over Mt Massive on the way into Leadville.

Clearly it was time for calories.

Out of Leadville and into another storm.  3-5 cm of hail. Hunkered down under the pitiful canopy of pine.  It could have been Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree for all the protection it afforded.  But our wheels kept turning and we rode the aspen covered flanks of Mt Elbert toward Twin Lakes and the Collegiate Range.  Near the descent to Twin Lakes, Scott noted that the wayward gps had gone for another walkabout (the particular gps, borrowed from Chris Plesko, a couple of days before the race apparently has a well established history of making attempts for its freedom).  Scott went back for the gps and I kept moving toward Buena Vista.  The hail and rain started again as I crossed the dam and fought the wind to get my riding toque on.

The trail was pleasant and the riding was good.  At Clear Creek, I stopped for calories, red bull and a mental adjustment for the road miles into BV.  Big ring rip.  Fast.  Wet.  Muddy. Yoga pranayama breathing to stay warm.

I made it to BV just before dark.  First hotel on the right off Main Street seemed to welcome quite a number of racers.  Chinese food 4 blocks north. Yard sale in the hotel to dry gear again.  Another chance to sleep relatively low.  Scott made it to BV just an hour or so later.

We had a slow morning waiting for the outdoor shops to open.  Shitty breakfast at Jan’s and a run to City Market.  Enough calories to get to Silverton without resupply — discounting the Mt. Princeton Hot Springs.  The final stop was the Trailhead, where we were greeted by name  (! spot trackers are awesome), bought additional rain gear (30% off!) and took advantage of the wash and lube station provided.  I was feeling very flushed and a bit wonky on the road climb out of BV back to the CT, but attributed it to the greasy spoon breakfast and red bull chaser.   We stopped at the hot springs ostensibly to wait out another thunderstorm as I wouldn’t admit to feeling low.  By 2 pm my belly had revolted.  Eating was a chore and I would be sidelined with sharp cramps, unable to pedal for 5-10 minutes after eating.  I tried eating smaller amounts.  I tried eating bigger amounts.  Everything hurt.  Everything hindered riding.  I didn’t even take a picture of the debris flow off the Chalk Cliffs covering the road.

We pushed up from the Angle of Shavano campground in the dark, crossed highway 50 and soft pedaled a few kms towards Flosses where I crawled straight into my bag without eating.  At some point in the night I got up for a washroom visit and had trouble balancing long enough to put on shoes.  After sleeping for probably 10 hours (maybe more) I opened my eyes and looked at Scott.  My face and head was swollen. My eyelids were almost swollen shut. I had big round cheeks.  My race was over.

I cried.  I wanted to ride Monarch Crest.  I could push my bike uphill and just ride down.  Sweet single track.  Heartbreak.  Acceptance and a painted on smile as I encouraged Scott to keep going.  Chat with Dylan from MT, sending him up the trail with smile and a task to catch Scott.

Another cry.  A slow pack up and the ride down to Salida.  Some more crying.  The end of the race.   Heading into the next long, high altitude section would not have been smart.

I was on my pony, but felt more like this:

Back in Vancouver again, 2 weeks after the start of the race.  I am happy with how I rode.  I never felt that I was riding outside of my fitness.  I slept low where I could and got lots of hours every night. Until the last day, I stayed well fueled and was always well hydrated.  I put in some long days, but never felt like I was riding into a deficit.  I rode my race until I couldn’t ride anymore.

It is still disappointing to DNF. However, I am thrilled that I could ride so much (thank you Lynda and Dave for the training!!!!!)!  I think about standing above Janet’s cabin looking east towards the front range and abosultely thrilling that I had ridden over all those mountains.  Wow!  It seems incredible that I was able to ride from Copper to BV in day and still feel good enough to get back on my bike the next morning.

I am lucky.

I am grateful.