Sub three hour tour and 35th female on the day (other years a sub three hour might have placed you 20-30th....but not this year). Days later I found out that I rolled 40 miles on a mildly separated shoulder (1.5 months later and it still hurts.) Two times the daily dose of Vitamin I saw me though. I missed my top 25 goal, but hit my better than 3 hour goal. Considering the bloody mess that I made of my body, I was pretty happy with my race. It's not all that bad when you can take down a beer at the finish line after ripping 40 miles of fire roads.
And I actually got to pedal up fire tower hill. A few years ago I can honestly say I wasn't fit enough to make it up. I'm already stoked for next year.
2009 marks my 4th trip to Hayward, WI to race in one of the largest and craziest events that we have in the Midwest. I did the "40" in 2005 and 2006. I was denied in 2007 which actually worked out very well for me. Due to my injuries last year, I raced the "Short and Fat" and secured my entry into this year's race.
If you have never had the Chequamagon experience check out this video from last year's race.
Thursday night I drove up to Spooner, WI, checked into my hotel room and immediately got acquainted with the 24 hour hot tub and pool. I topped off the night with a few adult beverages and some HBO. A little alone time was nice after the last two insane weeks I've had at work. Friday afternoon I met up with Peter, a fellow ChainSmoker, at the Telemark Resort in Cable, WI to ride the Ojibwa trail.
Now riding this trail the day before the 40 is NOT the wisest thing to do; I'll admit that. But you can't drive 5 hours to a place like Cable, WI and not ride the fantastic singletrack that is part of the CAMBA Trail System. It's seems so wrong. So that is exactly what we did.
Things were going well and we were cruising though the singletrack. Peter and I pre-ride at the same speed (or he is nice enough to slow down for me). After following Peter through the Ojibwa trail for about an hour, I took the lead. We hit some fast downhill doubletrack and I was flying. At the end of the doubletrack there was a huge berm/lip followed by a small drop. I didn't see it right away, but when I realized what it was, I thought "I'm FUCKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!". And I was.
It was too late to lay on the brakes because I was going over the handlebars if I did. So I tried to scrub a little speed off as I went over the sharp lip. There I went flying through the air, higher than I'd ever been in my life. In that split second, I started to contemplate a few important things. 1. Wheelchairs are not for me. 2. If I get out of this alive, I might just give up mountain biking. Many people sit on the couch while watching tv and eating potato chips. I can do it too. 3. Please let my bike be ok for the race tomorrow.
I proceeded to fly over my bike and smash into the ground harder than ever could be imagined. My knees were completely bloody. I landed on my shoulder and chest. My head bounced off of the ground. And my elbow impaled my stomach. Then I realized that I couldn't breath. I tried to get up. Peter pushed me down and told me not to move. He was sure I broke bones - maybe my collarbone. I started to panic. Why couldn't I fucking breath? Did I collapse my lung? Shit, we are in Cable fucking Wisconsin, there is probably not a hospital here (sorry, I have a potty mouth, I know). How the hell am I going to get out of the trail system? I'm going to die here. After about a minute of irrational contemplations, I started to calm down, realizing that I had just knocked the wind out of myself. Duh. Years of playing competitive soccer should have taught me this. But I guess in all the years of getting the wind knocked out of me, I've never had a blow this hard. (Even the time I collided head on with a goalie. I knocked her out, broke both her shins and scored a goal all at the same time. I momentarily was knocked out and had the wind knocked out of me. I still blame her. She was the aggressor and came at me with all her might. I was 110 lbs of goal scoring bad-assness back then.)
I got up, started to walk it off and assess the damage. The bike was ok. The rider had two blood knees, a stomach that hurt from being jabbed with her own flying elbow and a swelling arm/shoulder. It appeared that I'd live to ride another day, just maybe not in the 40. Peter and I started making our way back to the Telemark. We tried to take a short cut and ended up lost (of course). Finally after almost a 2 hour "pre-ride" we made it back to home base where I tended to my wounds, picked up my packet and headed back to my hotel to re-figure my Cheq 40 strategy. If crashing my brains out wasn't enough excitement for the day, a deer jumped out in front of me on HYW 63. My Dodge Dakota came within inches of hitting this terrified female deer. I may have even hit its back leg. My heart ended up somwhere in my throat as I veered completely off the road while driving 60mph, then righted myself back onto the HYW. Do you ever think the Universe is trying to tell you something?
Here is my knee, partially cleaned up for your viewing pleasure.
The last few weeks of life have had me mostly living at work, sleeping very little and eating like total shit or not eating at all. With motivation and expectations at an all time low and back pain at an all time high, I really wasn't that excited to head to Lake Geneva, one of the more technical races in the WORS series.
There were about 20 women at the start line which is a hearty number for the 1:30 race. Don said GOOOOOOOOO and we were off. I climbed up the hot, exposed ski hill, made my way through the dusty, sandy singletrack and found myself thinking about the rock garden that was to come.
The legendary rock garden is Lake Geneva's spectator centerpiece. It is lined with people yelling, screaming and taking photos....all waiting for the inevitable carnage to ensue. Now, the rock garden is really not that difficult of a piece to ride. You need to set your nerves aside, take some momentum into it and roll right down the middle, then try not to break your neck on the descent. Sounds easy enough, doesn't it? Unfortunately the consequences for not riding it perfectly are substantial - falling in the rock garden could mean serious damage to your bike and body, everyone you know will have witnessed your crash and will have posted the photos come Monday morning and you will most likely be run over by others behind you, trying to ride the rock garden.
With all these thoughts dancing around my head, I sat on the wheel of Brenda ZT as we made our way on Lap 1 up to the rock garden. About this time the Comp men started to catch us. As we passed the "CAUTION" sign, there was dude who wanted to pass us on the drop. I told him to wait. These are not words you will usually hear out of my mouth (those that know me, know I'm super easy to pass - just let me know you're there, don't cut me off, or crash me and we're all good....call me crazy but it is generally not good idea to ask for a pass in a section that requires a CAUTION sign). Brenda ZT hit the rock garden and slowed, which cause me to slow a little and sure enough, the dude made a super sketchy pass as I entered the the garden of many large, bruise worthy rocks. I was off the bike, pissed as hell and maybe even uttering a few unkind words (sorry spectators). Making your way down that hill on foot is awful and dangerous with non stop traffic barreling down a "room for one only" descent.
During that episode a few elite women had passed me, so I spent the rest of Lap 1 expending all my energy trying to regain my position and trying to let go of my anger. I am very happy to report that on Laps 2, 3 and 4 I rode the rock garden cleanly and managed to avoid any permanent physical, emotional or psychological damage that one receives from having a mishap there.
I have a history with heat exhaustion - one episode at Alterra last year and one at Subaru Cup this year. It happens on exposed ski hill climbs on super hot days. I know this about myself. Knowledge is power. So when I started climbing the exposed ski hill on Lap 2, I could feel it coming on. It was just a stones throw away - the chills, the intestinal upset and yucky feelings. The result? I slowed way down, dropped it into the granny gear, started drinking more and hung on as best as I could. I did this for Laps 2, 3 and 4 and finished the race in 2 hours and 36 minutes for 11th on the day. I'll take it.
Well, I'm off to the Chequamagon 40 today. A top 25 finish is the goal but perhaps it's too lofty or assuming. There are many unknowns and things that will be out of my control. For instance, am I going to get run over by 1700 people because I have preferred start and got tangled up one of the many crashes that traditionally happen? And will I have the mental patience to avoid crashes for the first 25-30 miles. If my memory serves me right, it's mass chaos for the majority of that race.
For those of you going, I'll see you at the finish line at the Telemark Resort. We'll be dusty, sweaty, sore, happy and hopefully in one piece. Come have a beer with me.
Photo by skinnyski - second row on the right.
Photo by skinnyski
