LOTOJA 2009

Here's my LOTOJA 2009 race perspective...

LOTOJA 2009

I had resigned myself to staying home the weekend of Sept. 12th. A group of good friends and co-riders had crashed on a high-speed descent three weeks previous on the Alpine Loop in the 1000 Warrior race, and I just lost my drive to get after it. I compensated my sadness by eating vast amounts of food that was entirely conducive to adding poundage. That, and a total lack of motivation to ride, had put me in a real nice position to talk myself out of going up to Logan this year.

As I struggled with my predicament, the thought came to me that what I was feeling was a grieving process. Dave, Steve, Mike, Wayne and Grant were injured, and I was able to continue to go out and enjoy what they now couldn't (at least temporarily). It didn't seem right to go, and I thought I would go ahead with the grieving thing and back out. Retreat would be justifiable, that was a bad scene at the crash site, and I don't blame some who went ahead and dealt with the situation that way and stayed home.

Along with the grieving thought came the thought that I would go ahead and do the race to somehow honor the fallen, especially Dave. This seemed right and when Wayne Smith called to ask if I was in, we both committed. Rick Frost is always in, though we didn't know each other the first two years, we always knew each other would be there the next year. Rick, his wife Jill and his family have saved me on some of my unsupported years and they've become my good friends.

Logistics associated with this race can be a bear. Driving 750 miles just to get to the start is one thing, going 200 additional miles to the finish is another. Lodging will be scarce in Logan and Jackson so if you don't reserve early, you're staying in another town. If your support crew falls through, expect to rely on others. The last two years the Frost's have saved me, including this year when Jill sagged for me and even allowed my son Taylor to ride along with them. Their daughters and a cousin were there so I don't think he minded too much...

Matt and Natalie Robbins welcomed Wayne, Taylor and I into their beautiful Smithfield home on Friday night. They are Wayne's good friends, we were glad to meet them and grateful for their kindness. We all did our pre-race preparations-trying to figure out our nutritional needs, going over the bike etc.

Wayne, Matt and a small group of friends started their day early, before the licensed racers took off. Matt was frustrated with four flats before he even got to Preston. Wayne got a little crazy and got ahead of his Natalie piloted sag vehicle so he missed some handouts. I believe he ended up finishing at a highly respectable 10:20 though, and that's pretty good for a first timer, not knowing the course and all.

I'm not sure how I felt on the drive over to the start. I had thought of doing some kind of suffer-fest in the name of Dave. You know, the old "don't take a draft the entire race" routine, but because I was reliant on Jill for support and Wayne for transportation and lodging that night, I felt I better try and stay with Rick. That would also take a lot pressure off Jill having to worry about two separate riders.

The weather was perfect, around 45 at the start and gradually warmed-up nicely to around 85. The next day it was cold and rainy so we really lucked out. I lost track of time and got out of the "catbox" just in time to shuffle into the start area and hear the word "GO". We were off, and other than a single rider hitting gravel and crashing out around a corner, and quite a few punctures (as Phil Liggitt would say) I saw no other incidents.

The first portion of the race is a mainly flat 30 miles to Preston Idaho (Napoleon Dynamite's hometown). Groups leave at 3 minute intervals and inevitably packs converge on each other, so the goal here is to not flat, avoid crashes, and get to the front for an easier handoff amongst the feed-zone chaos in Preston. We were able do all that and got out of town with a pretty large group. On the way to the Strawberry Pass climb I thought it was interesting how the UCSF officials on motorcycles tried to keep the groups separated. I was riding in the Masters 35+ category instead of the 45's because of the big Brumby group of riders that had planned on being there and riding in the 35 group. Anyway...we were watched like a hawk and when a few riders from one group got a little ahead of the other, the official would separate us and allow the entire other group to move up.

The race director drove by us on the Strawberry climb and by megaphone threatened to stop the race if anyone went over the yellow line again. I mean this guy was angry. I didn't see what he was crazy about but he was red-faced and scolded us hard.

I fell off the back about 2/3's of the way up the climb and was happy to see Rick near the summit at the neutral aid station. Rick admittedly was having an off day and decided to ride with me and my slowness. That's cool, I think we had a good time even though he may have gotten frustrated with my aid station delays. (more on my nutrition later, but I was just having an awful time trying to find food that I could eat and feel better with) On the way down Strawberry Pass and on the way to Montpelier, I decided to jump on a mixed tandem and draft for awhile. Rick was there, but fell off and caught on with another pack (it's a descent thing). I rode behind the tandem for most of the way to Montpelier. I tried to pull once but after a few minutes I looked back and was surprised to see them about 50 yards back. In talking to the woman on the back, I find out that they would be disqualified if they were found drafting. I'm so used to a PBAA event where it's a free-for-all, that I never even considered this aspect of a UCSF sanctioned race. I didn't care, I was pack-fill in this race and I knew it.

My aggressive riding style and "reckless abandon" attitude on the downhill put me into Montpelier a whopping 2 minutes ahead of Rick, it was HUGE. But alas, the big time gap I worked so hard for evaporated when I couldn't decide whether to have Vanilla GU or the Chocolate Outrage with caffeine at the feed zone neutral-goody table, and Rick was able to overtake me. Really though, we were just hanging out and trying to get to the finish.

Wyoming has a law pertaining to cyclists that requires riding in a single-file formation when on their roads. This was strictly enforced as I noticed quite a few lawmen eyeing us at quite a few locations along the race route. Just after entering that state, we found ourselves in quite a big group that now had to ride this way, and it was not fun. If riding anywhere in the last half of this long pace line, you were subjected to an interval-like experience. We would ride hard, well above AT for 30 seconds to stay on, and then slow down and so-on and so-on, and so-on. After about 30 minutes, we were done with it, Rick was smart and bailed early, me? not so smart and went about another 3 miles. I now was for sure in "survival mode" after that joyride. I rode solo into a headwind for about 4 miles to the next neutral aid station, by "neutral" meaning no support crews were allowed to stop there. Those stations were great and carried things like: oranges, bananas, GU's, granola type bars, water and Gatorade. Oh, and port-a-potties were there. I thought i'd be a funny cyclist and make a wisecrack...so after coming out of a john I made the statement to those waiting in line that "I really wasn't "going" in there, I just wanted to sit down and rest for awhile", not one person laughed.

Maybe they were a tough-crowd, or maybe it was the climbing that started right around the corner, I don't know, but I wasn't looking forward to it either. Rick and I both were riding to just finish and it showed in our climbing. He was climbing slow but I was slower and he had to wait a couple of minutes for me to summit. From there we worked real well together all the way to Afton. It was WAY more comfortable riding smooth and steady without the goofy accelerations some inexperienced riders can cause in a paceline. We had a good flow going with well-timed rotations, probably my favorite portion of the race. Jill and Taylor were there at the next feed zone in Afton, we fed, filled bottles and were off for more. It was here I may have made a crucial eating error, I downed most of a sandwich bag full of mashed potatoes. It was great while the feeding lasted, and I got satiated fast but I felt sick soon thereafter. My nutritional choices are all over the place. I really need to find a proper nutritional plan that works for me while on the bike, it really is the worst aspect of cycling to me.

On leaving Afton we found ourselves with two other riders and proceeded with the pace line and rotations, only now, (as much as I didn't want to accept it) I felt like my entire GI tract was full of mashed potatoes. Sorry Natalie, they tasted great, but they either went bad or I ate too much, probably the latter. Anyway, I took a pull, went to the back, and then proceeded to drift off the back. Rick, I know, I should've said something but I didn't want to delay you any further. Rick was about 2 miles up the road when he discovered my absence, I think he continued on but soon ran into some trouble.

I soloed along for about 30 minutes when I came around a corner and found Rick standing on the side of the road, bike in one hand and rear wheel in the other. I thought it was odd that he wasn't working to change what appeared to be a flat tire. When I rolled up to him he told me his rear wheel suddenly went goofy and was wobbling. I thought it might be a broken spoke but it turned out to be a cracked rear drop-out. Funny thing is that Jill saw it first, regardless and sure enough, Rick's day was over. He was pretty upset about it, not tantrum-mad but disbelief-mad. He was 140 miles in and wouldn't be finishing. He told me he would look to maybe find a relay team's bike to borrow, but that never worked out so he went into support mode and I think he enjoyed that for a change.

I don't know how much time I spent there with him trying to figure out what to do but with no solution I had to move on. Not as much fun without Rick for sure, but in my fragile (mashed potato filled) state, It was still a sobering realization that I had 70 miles yet to go while feeling this way.

I didn't think i'd die from eating wrong, so I moved on and eventually rolled into Alpine Junction where the Frost's and Taylor once again provided food and drink. I never really recovered from some of my mistakes earlier in the race, and I expected the annoying back, neck and shoulder aches but I didn't expect my traitor of a knee to give me so much trouble. Spinning was no problem but I couldn't stand on it. I had stood to stretch around mile 60 and it just gave out. Enough with the complaints, I just kept going and finally as we entered Jackson, a 4 man group picked us up and pulled for the rest of the race, probably 10 miles. I made multiple offers to pull but they refused so I just sat in and was delivered to the finish. Out of respect, I kept my place and finished behind the blue team.

We had dinner at a BBQ place that night and of course we stuffed ourselves. Waynes friend got us a room at The Best Western Lodge in Jackson that night, and later, after falling asleep, we were awakened by a fire alarm. We were rousted outside and had to wait there for the fire department to clear the building. In all, I think we were outside for about 90 minutes. Turns out someone had started a fire-log in a gas fireplace-- nice. Next day, off to the awards ceremony. The 1000 Mile awards were handed out first so Rick and I were happy about getting ours and moving on with our lives.

Matt, Natalie, and Wayne had some brunch in downtown Jackson while Taylor and I went around the food vendors there and sampled the fancy restaurant food offered and listened to some live country music. It was cold and rainy that Sunday and again, I felt fortunate we had such good weather the day before. We eventually got into Logan and back to the rental car around 4 pm and headed for home.

It took a solid effort for me to drive straight home from Logan. As you can imagine driving 14 hours, a day after a double century, can get kinda uncomfortable. And with the fatigue, was probably not safe. But, home we went and we finally got into Mesa at 0630. Slept for an hour, then went off to work.

Remembering back to the finish on Saturday night I think about how I really enjoyed the leg soak in the cold creek water near the finish. I had sat there reflecting on many things for about 45 minutes and it was sooo nice. It was here that I was able to gather my thoughts. I thought this might be my last LOTOJA, and I told my wife Meri as such, but I can't get over it, I've got some kind of sick Bret Favre syndrome and I know I'll be back next year, crazy, stressful logistics and all. I thought about my body slowly breaking down with age and knowing I need to relax more in events like these, and i'm alright with that. I thought about Steve Beck and worried that he might want to give all this up over an unfortunate accident and how that would be tragic. Mainly I thought of Dave Collins and his place in all of this and the miracle that was. And how could I not think of him when no less than 30 people, seeing me in a Mesa Brumby jersey pulled alongside of me to offer their condolences, trying to find out from me how he's doing, and wanting me to remind Dave of their prayers for him through it all? It really was impressive the amount of people who had an interest in Dave.

Life gets confusing to me sometimes, why one friend dies and another lives, and because of the circumstances, the opposite outcome should have happened to each. Alright, that's enough, my brain hurts again.

I just had a good, though difficult time this year and i'll give it another go next year. Maybe start working on that 2000 mile award...

The Crash

Okay, gotta get something going in here. I guess the biggest event in my life lately was the crash at the Tour of Utah road bike race. About six Brumby riders from Mesa went down after crashing into the back of an SUV coming down off the Alpine Loop. I had been riding with Lorie Tucker, Rob and Bridget Verhaaren, and Sterling Baer and when we came upon the crash and I think we all were a bit traumatized.
I don't want to get into specifics, that's been done, and the few who might read this are already aware. I just wanted to mention about the effects of something like that. I have seen plenty of blood and trauma from working in a hospital setting for the last twenty years so I'm used to it. What i'm not used to is seeing my good friend Dave Collins backboarded, bloodied and near death at the crash site. We didn't finish the race after that, how could we? We just showered up at Carla's mother's house in SLC then headed over to U of U hospital.
I was sick about Dave all the way over to the hospital, not knowing if he was paralyzed or even alive. He had lost five pints of blood and I thought he may have some brain damage. We were relieved to find out his condition was stable and the doctors were optimistic about a full recovery after a few more extensive surgeries. There was alot of concern prior to hearing this news. Lots of tears and hugs and prayers in the waiting area that afternoon.
Meri and I went to see Steve Beck in another hospital and he fared alot better than Dave. Steve had a partially collapsed lung but didn't need a chest tube and was out in a few days. It was good to see Steve doing okay, he was in shock at the crash site and I just hope he can get over all this and enjoy cycling again.
Anyways, I went into what I can only assume is a grieving process the week or two following the crash. I ate WAY more than usual and had alot of trouble getting motivated to ride. The few times I was able to go on a bike ride were half-hearted attempts. I think I just felt that Dave was hurt and I felt guilty for being able to ride when he couldn't.
At some point I had the feeling that this guilt trip would probably upset Dave. I know if I were in his position, I would want everyone to embrace cycling a little more, and to continue to train for their respective events. So, this is what I've tried to do. I've never been one to train for an event, I just try to get out, work every now and then, and try to have fun so thats what i'm focusing on.
LOTOJA is coming up next week and at one point I had actually considered not doing it. Now though, I feel it would be the best way to honor Dave, to get out, have fun, and embrace a life that Dave almost lost to the sport.
Get well Dave...

Hot Saturday ride

Good ride yesterday. Rode with the group out to Dynamite road in Scottsdale. Rob Verhaaren flatted immediately but it held thereafter. Rob's wife Bridget was the only female in the group and rode very well.

After snaking our way through Scottsdale and riding down 9-mile to Rio Verde we made our way to Beeline and the market for refills. I took off from the store prior to the others because I was going to ride UP the Beeline to the Saguaro lake turnoff and expected to be the only idiot to do so. I was surprised to find out later that most of the group did the same. It was getting really hot and most people don't tolerate it very well. We all met up at the turn-off and chatted for a while.

I saw one cyclist go over the cattle guard, hit a gap in the grate and flat. I stopped to help and it wasn't pretty. He was riding tubulars on carbon-fiber wheels..nice wheels, the rear of which was now cracked because of the impact. He had no spare and was done way out there. The sad thing was he said he had already sold this bike and the new owner was to pick it up that afternoon. We flagged a pickup to take him to the lake and hopefully he found a ride home. I'd say that was about a $600 mishap.

Later, Kevin Kellis pulled over at the Salt river bridge to get in and cool off. I was surprised by this, most cyclists are good people but most get into a "pack mentality" and don't usually think "outside the box" like that. It was refreshing to see. I do this stuff like that frequently but most people don't see it because I usually ride alone. So I joined Kevin for a dip and we rode back together. It felt great!

So there's my Saturday ride in a nutshell, may you find peace in your heart.

A BIKE RIDE AND LESSONS LEARNED

A very good day. It began the night before with a migraine, oh...about midnight. Then the decision; do I go to Mt Graham for some road biking? Or, stay local? (headache management is much easier near home)

I decided that I should "man-up" and give Mt Graham a try, but I couldn't get over the uneasy, dread I was feeling about it, so I showed up on a local corner instead for a respectable group ride out to Canyon Lake. I felt uneasy about that as well, so I was about to head out to Usery for some hill repeats when the Tuckers and Thomas's rolled up on their bikes. We turned around and soon ran into Kent Hatfield, Kyle Jorgensen, John Paul Jones, Tom Kokalaires, and Clay Allen (don't know why I wrote their full names out but there you go). Good, good friends and fun riding.

We all headed out to the 4-way and the pace was nice and easy. Clay fell off, (as was to be expected due to his return to cycling after a long layoff) so I stayed with him. We talked and rode and eventually all met back up at the 4-way. The Thomas's and Tucker's went straight and off to the Beeline Highway while the all-man group turned right for a backside Usery climb. I just sat there for about 4 minutes, torn.

Do I go with the group I started with, or turn to go the safer way? Great friends all, but as my day went, I was staying with the promptings. So... I took off after the fellas and we had a great time. We stopped at QT for drinks and it was decided that we would do a frontside loop for more miles. Hey, it's all good, so off we went.

The reason I ended up writing this post is because of what happened about 15 minutes later. We had just gotten down from the steeper part of the descent and had begun slowing down, when I had a blowout, not just a puncture, this was a one-inch tear through the rubber. What was strange was how much I had to fight to keep control of the bike, any faster and I know couldn't have held it, I would've lost it. I think I was real fortunate to keep from going down even at that speed ( about 15 mph).

No problem, a tire patch and a dollar bill for insurance to cover the hole, and we were off again. No good, another blow-out about 100 yards later so I made the dreaded phone call and Meri was on her way. The boys took off, it was getting hotter and there was no need for us all to fry.

As I waited by the side of the road, I thought i'd try a little experiment. I made myself visible, and in obvious breakdown mode I waited for reactions, vehicle or bike, no matter. Of the 25 or so cars or trucks, no interest. I guess I could see that, cyclists are usually not well-loved by vehicles but what I couldn't believe was the reaction from cyclists. My brothers and sisters of the skinny tire had shunned me repeatedly, not a word from 12 cyclists. Over the years, i've been snubbed by women, and maybe model-scouts before, but never would I have expected this.

Was it too hot? Did they assume that with my new confident-bearded look I could never be in trouble? Or, did they just not give a gosh-darn?

As a cyclist, I believe you should never, never, never "mind your own business" when you see a rider off the bike, or even a struggling cyclist ON the bike, you ought to ask "are you okay?" do you need anything?" It only takes 2 seconds and probably less than a calorie. You can't help someone if you don't ask.

Lastly, I forgot to mention, as I waited out there, it dawned on me that my flat was not a puncture, it was a blow-out and I started asking myself some "why" questions. Why did it happen then, and not when I was doing 40 mph about two minutes earlier? Why did I bag the Canyon Lake ride at the last minute when I had no reason not to, and by so doing, forgo the 54 mph downhill when coming back from EOP? Or better yet, shouldn't I have been on Mt Graham? The Mt Graham with lots of downhill, corners and cliffs with no side rails? I recall 40 to 50 mph descents on that monster, why not there? And why a migraine last night to start it all off?

I don't know, but as I get older I take the feelings I get, or a better term might be "a still small voice" a lot more seriously and it's served me well many times.

So there it is, my odd morning. I guess my lessons reaffirmed are... never expect help, but ALWAYS offer it, and always listen hard to that "inner voice", the life you save may be your own.

Random acts of kindness...

I usually don't consider the personal effects of service to others , I just look for opportunities to try and help make other peoples lives easier. That's all, tiny acts of service with no strings attached. I feel like a better person. I like to think that random acts of kindness have a ripple effect in society. That helping others will somehow make the world kinder and more tolerant.

Doesn't always work out that way. Good intentioned deed attempt shot down at Home Depot last week. I offered to help a man load some drywall into his truck, I could see he was struggling and might want some help. I asked "can I help you load those?" His response, "I got it". "You sure? I don't mind?" I said. I could see he was getting bothered, so I started to leave when I heard him call me a name under his breath. No big thing, I just figured he was maybe having a grumpy day and left. I didn't tell my sons who were watching because I wanted to keep it positive. Maybe that was a mistake, they need to realize not every attempt will be accepted.

That particular opportunity for service may not have worked out the way I had planned. I had envisioned me helping him load the drywall, we high five, he jumps and clicks his heels as he gets in his truck, he goes home and hugs his family a little tighter that night assured that there is goodness in the world, then for the rest of his life he looks for opportunities to serve his fellow man.

Meri's Grandmother Eloise once said "we help other people, they won't always appreciate it and we don't always see the blessings but we keep helping people anyways".

Good lesson to live by...

Quick note: It's Saturday morning and I just went for a ride at 0700. At about 0930 I was going down Usery (a 3.5 mile climb) when I see this female rider weaving about and she did not look good. I kept riding but felt I should turn around and see if she needed anything, a lot of people underestimate their water needs. Sure enough, when I got to her she was walking and had zero water and this was only half way up the hill and in 100 degrees. I gave her my remaining bottle there were "thank yous" and she assured me she would now be fine so I headed down for one last climb.

I only mention this experience as an example of little things we can do that might make a big difference in someone's life. Maybe without the water she would have made it home okay anyways, or...maybe she might've pulled off the road to find shade and never recovered. Who but God knows?

BREATHLESS AGONY and REDROCK 200 reports

Finally got these written up. I hope the RedRock 200 report isn't too boastful sounding, there wasn't a lot of people racing so less stories came out of it.

Had a great time in each. Enjoy hopefully. Jim


Breathless Agony May 2nd 2009

Good race, good times, with good friends. I wish more friends could've been there this year but for various reasons many people had to bail.

Curtis Clifford, Craig Clifford, Barry Thomas, and myself were the final four out of about 9 people I know who had signed up for this thing to actually start. That's okay though, I love this race and would go alone.

Once again Curtis was nice enough to drive and we got into Redlands in the early evening. We checked into the Good Nite Inn and headed over to what is turning out to be a traditional pre-race meal venue; The Macaroni Grill. Craig showed up finally (he lives over there) and we had a great meal and good conversation.

I gotta say Barry is funny. This guy lays down on his bed, folds his arms, crosses his legs and is out, I mean out in a dead sleep. I was envious, I couldn't sleep till about midnight but felt okay the next morning.

Next morning we loaded up and drove to the start which was about 3-4 miles away. We checked in got our race glasses (a drinking glass), put them away and took off.

Pretty typical start, you just roll up, give your name and you're off, fast or slow, doesn't matter. I think we set a pretty moderate pace and eventually made it over the first two climbs and into the first aid station at a nice clip. We tried to stay together but as we left the feed zone Barry started getting sick and/or weak. He was just having one of those days so we worked together and got over the next climb to the forest station break area.

The food at this race is nearly unmatched in it's quantity and quality so we gorged happily when we had the opportunity. Because Barry had slowed, he decided take off ahead of us. Curtis, Craig and I took off later and began riding up what is called "Damnation Alley", a ten mile stretch of not so pretty scenery that slowly climbs up to the last steep climb of the day; the backside of Big Bear.

Funny thing; I was talking to Curtis about skinny-dipping on some of my bike trips when I was overheard by a nice looking woman who was curious about what we were talking about. I am not ashamed of my free-spirit so we talked to this woman about that, among other things. Turns out she had immigrated from Poland and gave me pretty much her life story. We slowly pulled away from her and eventually came upon Barry. At this point Curtis and Craig rode on ahead and I stayed with Barry again.

Since we had slowed a bit the Polish woman came up on us, pulled between us and says to Barry "even though I like skinny-dipping and nudity, I'm pretty much conservative" (or something close to that). Barry was going "what?!" I was laughing hard because she had never spoken to Barry, I think because we all had on Brumby jerseys she thought he was me, and I was Curtis or something. Anyways, it was funny and I had to tell Barry why she had said that. He seemed a little deflated, we don't get come-ons that often.

After that we started the last climb to Onyx Summit. It's a lot of up and surprisingly, a few decent descents. Barry and I rolled into Angelus Oaks, (the last aid station before the top and the turn around) and saw Curtis and Craig there. We all left together but Barry was still suffering so I Barry and I rode together while the Clifford brothers took off up the road. And that's okay, even though Breathless is considered a race, I just have a great time riding it, doesn't matter to me about my time.

Barry is NOT a quitter and we just kept plugging along till we made it to the top. That's a great feeling, but there's still 40 miles to go to get back to the park so we fueled up, took off, and all stayed together to the end.

It was nice to have a female tandem come along at the start of a windy Damnation Alley to pull us nearly the entire way back to the start. I think I thanked them about five times, it was really fun.

So nothing earth-shattering, just a nice get-away with the fellas. I know I will do this race every year because it's so friendly and easy going, I really enjoy it.

Jim Auwen



Red Rock 200--May 16th 2009

I like the 200 mile distance; more challenging than the 100 of course, but not as uncomfortable as a 500 miler.

When I heard about a new double century out of St George, I was hooked. I love southern Utah and this was an inaugural race which is cool. So I signed up and waited for the "see the roster" link to see how many I would be riding with...months later the link on their website never comes. I end up writing the organizers and they tell me I'm the only one so far, yikes, I figure it's gonna be a lonely race. But slowly others entered and with Wayne Smith, Rob Verhaaren and Candon Sevey the list grew to 17. Dave Collins had entered but stayed in Mesa to watch his son compete in the AZ State High School Track Championships and that's too bad, I think Dave would've liked this race.

I was fortunate enough to be able to bring my sons along. Jared 17, and Taylor 15, were kind enough to come along and keep me company. I was worried about them when I'd be racing but they have a lot of common sense and ended up having a nice time while I was riding. They were able to eat out a few times and go see Star Trek at a nearby movie theater. They were there waiting for me at the finish and helped me in my weakened state. I love those guys.

We began lining up in front of the Best Western Abbey Inn at around 0530. The race was to begin at 0600 and there was to be a brief pre-race meeting. Not a lot of hoopla, we just all rolled out at 6 and headed through town towards Gunlock.

I'll try to remember times and distances so excuse me if I'm off a bit, my chemistry is still wacky and I'm having trouble focusing.

Anyways, I do remember a lot of climbing during the first part of the race. By about 10 miles in the front pack consisted of us four from Mesa and the eventual "winner" Mark Larson. We got to the top of the longest climb of the day and turned around for some fun and windy downhill. We put some good distance on the second group compliments of Candon who made the most of his aerobars on the descent. The wind was pretty vicious that morning and I believe we rode into it all the way to Cedar City (about 113 miles in).

I'm not sure what Rob and Wayne decided on for nutrition but it seemed to work for them, they rode strong all day. Candon I hear was without a doubt the strongest rider out there but it didn't show up in the results. I don't want to get into right and wrong thing here, but from what I hear race etiquette was not on everyone's mind. That being said, those guys were amazingly strong. Candon is young and fast, Rob is fast and tough (as per the show he put on at LOTOJA last year), and Wayne has improved more than anyone I know to become a very good and strong rider.

On this day, I on the other hand did all I could just to finish. I first felt sick near the top of that first climb and I never got over it for the rest of the day. I just thought i'd give Perpetuem one more shot, but it just doesn't work with me. A lot of people like it, but it makes me feel hollow and nauseous. Ironically, only Hammer products were the fuel of the day at all the aid stations. I was frustrated to have to keep forcing myself to drink it.

I was able to keep up with the front group until about mile 25 when a short steep climb put me over the edge and they slowly pulled away. I was really okay with that, I hadn't trained for this thing and I was sick so I quickly accepted my fate and didn't want to hold anybody up. I plodded along solo at a decent pace for another ten miles and eventually the second pack of four caught me on a long climb. I jumped on and we rotated well for about ten more miles. I still hadn't eaten anything solid and I felt my heart rate was too high, so at a rest stop I informed them that I would go it alone and try and stay ahead of them. This group had their own sag vehicle and they finally convinced me to eat a little something. So, I choked down a couple of small cookies and went on alone ahead of them.

The group would leap-frog me over and over for the next 160 miles but I couldn't stay on their erratic rotating pace, I was more comfortable riding smooth and steady and suffering alone. There was wind-o-plenty all the way to the turn around and the heat reminded me of home so some negative voices popped into my head and kept trying to talk me into finding a ride back to St George from Cedar City. After a five minute argument the "good fighter Jim" convinced the 'natural man Jim" quitting wasn't an option so I pressed on.

At 112 miles I pulled into Cedar City (turn around) and saw a lone rider (the eventual winner) riding back alone and thought it was strange. Did the Mesa boys cave or did this guy not stop? I later found out he had slipped away while the others were breaking and Rob was even in the catbox. Lame maybe, but whatever.

When I got to the park I once again saw my group, they were laying on the grass and relaxing so I dumped all the Perpetuem, filled my bottles with only water and kept on riding. Problem was, all the nutrition they had to offer was Hammer stuff. So on the way out of town I stopped into Subway for some solid food. There happened to be a bike mechanic out of St George in line so thankfully he let me in line ahead of him. Ate a couple of bites of my sub, pocketed the rest, slammed down a soda, and I was out the door in about 15 minutes. I thought for sure the group had passed me but they were behind me and caught me about ten miles out of town. I was starting to be able to hold them off for longer periods of time because of a strong near tailwind and because I was feeling just a bit stronger from the food. When the group passed me this time they had a female rider in tow who had caught them while they were lounging in Cedar. She was lean and looked like a climber.

When I caught back up to them at the next stop, the race sag had some Clif bars and Hammer Gel, so I grabbed some of those and I was gone fast. This stop was just prior to the last long climb and even though I left ahead of the group, I was told the female rider had left about five minutes before all of us. I doubted I could catch her and I was right, she was a great climber.

I had about a bottle and a half of water left when I came up on the group again that had just passed me, but I decided to roll right by and keep pushing on. I was still weak, but not as sick, and I thought maybe I could hold them off for the last 15 miles.

I was doing just that, I could never see them when I looked back and was getting excited thinking I could finish 5th overall, but then a major set back, whenever I would stop pedaling my rear hub (freewheel) would squeal like pig being skinned alive. My fear was that seven miles from the finish it would seize completely and i'd be walking to the finish. All I could do at this point was to slow down and keep pedaling. If I got going too fast, or stopped pedaling, the hub would squeal regardless of how fast I pedaled.

Frustrations galore! The group passed me in the Snow Canyon downhill and all I could do was brake, keep pedaling, and watch them leave me. I thought I handled it well though, I slowed and just tried to find satisfaction in my effort regardless of my finish time or place.

My goal was to finish before 12 hours. So while riding an estimated 160 miles solo I had fought sickness, wind, heat, a 15 minute Subway visit, and a lame wheel to finish in 12:14, I would've patted myself on the back, but I'm not very limber. This second group of riders were aware of my predicament and were supporting me all day by offers of sag help and encouragement and were nice enough to applaud me when I came into the finish. They ended up catching the climber girl and they all finished together in 12:06.

The race organizer told us because the wind was so strong that day, they had lowered the cut off time for a jersey to 14 hours, pretty cool of them, we all get race jerseys.

Overall I liked this race, good roads, great open scenery and pleasant, easy-going race organizers. I can see it becoming popular in the future and look forward to doing it next year.

Jim Auwen

Working on race reports (if anyone cares)

Just back from the RedRock 200 in St George, full report coming soon.  Also, a report on the Breathless Agony race from a few weeks ago.  Life is good...