Mt. Ogden 100K

I don't know what drives me to keep waking up at insane hours on Saturday mornings. Last week was a 50 mile, 8500 ft elevation ride (woke up at 4:00 AM), and yesterday was 3:45 AM to prepare / travel to Snowbasin Resort for the Mt. Ogden 100K bike race. Sadly, the pain associated with waking up early was only the beginning for me as I finally experienced my first endurance bike race.

Since I have been doing plenty of riding this season and did the RAT King last week (Ride Around Timpanogos--the King suffix is there to simply stroke my ego--I make the RAT a lariat loop by starting at my house, riding to / from the trail head and adding Grove Creek to it), I was feeling very confident in my abilities to knock out the Mt. Ogden 100K. The course is two 50K laps with approximately 5000 feet of climbing per lap. Having ridden part of the course several weeks ago at the Intermountain Cup Race at Snowbasin, I knew the type of riding to expect--very rocky, not too steep, but very fun. I was psyched.

Aside from narrowly missing running over a skunk on the drive up Ogden Canyon, the trip to Snowbasin was rather uneventful. The Wife and I rolled into the Snowbasin parking lot at 5:30 AM and everything was still completely dark with few cars in the parking lot. I was a bit surprised as registration was supposed to end at 6:15 with the race starting at 7:00. Oh well--early bird means no lines. Yes, no lines, but because I'm a doofus, I originally registered at the volunteer table before realizing my error. Oops.

After completing a few pre-race preparations (namely, taking four dumps in the glorious Snowbasin private bathrooms--don't be grossed out, EVERY racer does this) I checked my tire PSI to make sure it was just where I wanted it--it was a little high, so I let some out. I let too much out. No worries, I'll just pump it back up to the 27 PSI I wanted. I got out my pump, and the presta adapter was broken. Wonderful. Thankfully, I bummed a pump off a fellow rider, but over inflated my tires. Over inflating my tires alone equated to a LOT of pain during the 2nd lap. More on this later.

I dawdled after the pre-race meeting so I just barely made it to the starting line as the Pros took off. Thirty seconds later, my group took off with the resounding 'boom' from the shotgun.

Race conditions were practically perfect. It had rained the night before so the trail was very buff / tacky with practically no dust. The lower section of the first lap was a bit muddy, but had dried nicely by lap #2. It was generally cloudy with a nice breeze throughout the first lap of the race, so the weather definitely cooperated for the start. I got into my cadence quickly, and I was passing several riders very early in the race. I made a mental note to pace myself as I knew this wasn't going to be a 1-2 hour ride--6+ hours pushing it would definitely kill me. After the initial shakeout, we were greeted with some quick downhill, after which the real climb began. This climb was actually quite nice, and I continued to keep a good pace--passing all but 6-8 non-Pro men. It was at this point where I made my one wrong turn of the day that cost me ~1 minute. Ironically, the fellow racer who followed me was the same guy with whom I crossed the finish line at the end. Did I use ironically correctly? Was that even ironic? I don't want to say something is ironic when it isn't. People tend to do that (I'm apparently one of them). Update: it wasn't ironic. It was coincidental. Kudos to The Wife for pointing that out.

After getting back on the main course, I continued my climb up into the nether regions of the Snowbasin resort where the wind grew strong, the trees grew scarce, and the course became ever more rocky. No worries though--I was still fresh, eating / drinking calories at good intervals and I felt good. An aside: do NOT eat peanut butter sandwich crackers on an endurance (or ANY) ride. I ended up chewing half of the plastic wrapper as I was trying to get them out, and because the crackers are so dry, with every breath I would wheeze out half of the remaining crackers in my mouth. Oh, don't eat Chocolate Brownie Clif Bars either, those are gross too. Free advice.

When I reached the top I knew I had several guys ahead of me in my category who I wanted to catch in the downhill section of lap #1. As I began the descent, I quickly passed a singlespeed rider who was very gracious and let me pass (more on him later). I felt very good on the downhill, which seemed to last forever, but I never caught the wheel of any of the riders ahead of me. I was a bit surprised as I am pretty good on the downhill sections and figured I could make up some time. Oh well. I was down at the bottom of Art Nord?!? (I don't know the course names well) and had some climbing to do to get back up to the starting line. This climb wasn't too bad, and I kept a pretty good clip to get up to the starting line / feed zone. I rolled in to the feed zone where The Wife was cheering me on as I briefly breezed past her to refill my bottles.

After a quick refill, I headed over to The Wife to send the remaining peanut butter crackers in my jersey back from whence they came and to get a banana / Clif Bar for the 2nd lap. The first words out of her mouth were "You have a massive booger hanging out of your nose." And that I did. When I ride hard, I generally don't care too much about my physical appearance--very frequently I have snot running down my nose, drool coming out of my mouth, and my teeth are covered with dirt. No biggie--I'm a hard core rider. But this dangling modifier out of my big nose was definitely embarrassing. But no time to worry about that! I had just noticed two of the racers with whom I had been jockeying for position on the uphill roll into the feed zone. I gotta split! (I didn't even say good bye to The Wife or anything I found out later. Oops.)

With temperatures rising as the sun came out, I wanted to get through lap #2 as quickly as possible. Sadly, I was beginning to feel the effects of riding 3+ hours already. The second climb up to the top of Snowbasin was definitely not as fun as the first. My body was aching, I could feel fatigue setting in, and the two guys who had caught up to me at the feed zone were on my tail. Drat.

For the next hour+ I exchanged positions with a few different riders as we each had our own moments of energy during the brutal climb. As we neared the top, I had re-overtaken 'American Flag Jersey Guy' but 'Autoliv Guy' (who seemed to come out of nowhere) passed me quite easily. Oh, and that singlespeed guy from earlier? He was happy to jump on my wheel for the remaining climb as he knew I'd pass him again on the downhill.

At the top, I had the first jump on the downhill as 'Autoliv' guy seemed to be dropping his seat post down for the long descent (probably was a good idea). It didn't take long for me to realize I was in serious pain, however. I had tightened my Sidis a bit TOO tightly at the get-go and the extended downhill was wreaking havoc on the outside of my soles. Over inflating my tires also came into effect here as I felt every little bump and rock on the trail (so much for a full suspension bike, bah). Downhill #2 was the most agonizing part of the race. Trails I would normally bomb down I had to gingerly maneuver my way through. 'Autoliv Guy' passed me easily. I had to frequently unclip from my pedals to try to stretch out my feet so as to alleviate the pain. Chock this up to an inexperienced racer.

At LAST, I had made it to the water station near the bottom of the downhill in which my foot pain could be numbed down by my general fatigue as I began the long climb back up to the finish. The day had finally become warm enough to become uncomfortable and this section of the trail doesn't have very much coverage, so I was hot, tired, and very achy, especially with each pedal stroke. Lo and behold, 'American Flag Jersey Guy' passes me as I am slowly making my way up the trail. His pace isn't much faster than mine, but enough to make me realize how slow I am going. Then comes the singlespeeder--he cruises past me on the trail like I'm not even moving. Definite kudos to him for doing the ride and having that much energy at the end. As I reached the pavement for the last ~2 miles back to the finish, the only thought in my mind was, "I don't care what my time is, I just want to finish. This is terrible." I look behind me and recognize 'Orange Jersey Guy' (he's the one who followed me on the wrong trail) closing the gap between us. I don't care. Let him beat me!

As it turns out, he catches up to me and we just hold the same consistent pace for the last little bit, chatting as we make that last push to the finish. I really like 'Orange Jersey Guy.' He mentions before we get to the finish line that we will likely make it under 6 hours. I really don't care at that point, but that seemed nice. As we rolled in to the finish line, we see the official time: 6:01:xx. Drat--we didn't make it under six hours, but hey, I survived, and that is what mattered.

I got my finisher's glass, ate a few orange slices, and walked gingerly to my cheering wife. I was done. Thank Jeebus, Buddha, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, and all other omnipotent beings for that.

Overall, I had a great time, learned a lot, and will definitely be doing more endurance races in the future, but I am glad that my trial-by-fire 'Ogden 100K' bike race is now in the archives.

6:01:43 finish time and 7th place out of all open men isn't bad either.

Don't be fooled by the smile, I was in serious pain.

The RAT King

Prologue: Contrary to popular belief, the RAT King is not an intertwined group of rodents that become an entity with great, sewer-based powers as '30 Rock' would have us believe. It is my own version of the RAT (Ride Around Timpanogos) that Gregg Bromka highlighted in his mountain biking book several years ago. I add the 'King' suffix to simply highlight how much more amazing and difficult the version I do is. (If I can't self-aggrandize in a blog, where else am I going to get a boost for my self-esteem?) How much more difficult is the RAT King than the RAT you ask? Keep reading to find out.

The ride: Since I'd already done a RAT in July, I knew that if I were to do it again this year, I wanted to up the ante a bit. Thankfully, Bill and Kerry were looking to do a RAT and were willing to toss in a little Grove Creek action to add some miles and vertical to the ride. So, we set the day for August 21st with a start time of 5:00 AM at the Grove Creek trailhead. So, bright and early at 4:00 AM I woke up, downed some cereal, packed up my Camelbak and headed out the door. My original plan was to ride from my house to the GC trailhead, which is about 4.5 miles of dirt / gravel access road, but as it turned out, the moon wasn't out that morning so it was PITCH black. And since I don't have any bike / helmet lights, I had to wake up The Wife to drive me to the trailhead. Nuts.

There, Bill and Kerry were finishing up some last minute tweaks for their rides as I rolled up. Like every group ride with a new face (or at least with someone you haven't ridden with for awhile) the first step is to look over their bike, pick it up to see how much it weighs, ask about components, etc. After we'd gotten the 'measuring ourselves' part of the ride over with, it was time to strap on the lights and go. (Bill brought an extra light for me to borrow for the ride up GC.)

For being the coldest part of the day, the weather was unusually warm that morning and I was hoping it wouldn't heat up too much more as the heat can definitely make a ride unbearable. As we began riding up GC though, the temperatures dropped, a cool breeze started up, and it was all good. Whew.

Having never ridden GC before and knowing that it is a fairly precarious ride (read: vertical cliffs, plenty of difficult terrain, shale, roots, and a steep grade for climbing), I knew that doing it in the dark with a bike light would definitely be quite an experience. The initial part of the ride was actually quite pleasant as Bill and I did a bit of extra exploring up in the foothills before the steep / precarious portion of the ride began. Once we caught back up to Kerry, I carefully made my way up to the bridge crossing the creek with only a couple short sections of hike-a-bike--I promised The Wife that I'd be very careful on this ride and not kill myself. THAT'S the only reason I walked those sections. I promise. Bill, however, has the mentality of Bear Grylls because every time I looked back, he was plodding along the trail, never dabbing or walking even the most difficult parts.

Once I crossed the bridge, the 'fall-and-die' section of the trail was done, but it simply opened up to the 'steep-and-loose-covered-with-stinging-nettle' part of the trail. Oh joy! As we found out later, Kerry was sick, so I took off ahead as Bill hung back around the Indian Springs campground to wait. Once I hit the intersection of the GC trail and the Timp Perimeter trail, I did a little extra climbing up to Timpooneke Road then bombed back down to catch up to Bill and Kerry. By now it had been 1.5 hours of trail time and we had a long day ahead of us, so when I saw Bill coming up the trail I simply told him: "I have a pregnant wife at home who expects me home at a reasonable hour, so I'm gonna have to go on ahead." He was fine with that and so I wished him luck and took off.

After the climb up GC, the light was cresting over Timp and one of the beefiest climbs of the ride lay ahead of me--Big Baldy. Normally, with the RAT, Big Baldy is the last big climb before a drop down into Provo Canyon and the end at Canyon Glen. But by starting at Grove Creek, I attacked Big Baldy with a fresh set of legs and very cool temperatures. Though it still required a good deal of granny gear climbing, I only had to walk for about 10-20 feet on a loose rocky section, and I actually cleared the last very steep pitch right up before the saddle. That was the highlight of the day for me--I never would have thought I could ride that without spinning out.

Yeah, I know, the views on Baldy aren't great, but what can you do?

Since it was early in the ride, I didn't savor the accomplishment of conquering Big Baldy and quickly bombed down Dry Canyon for a short while, then took a hard left to take a more enjoyable (though still very technical) route down to Canyon Glen in Provo Canyon. Since I had fresh legs for this section of the ride, I found that I thoroughly enjoyed the technical, rooty, steep single track, which eventually mellows out and allows for some fun riding before reaching the beloved 'altar' up in the foothills above Orem (and no, I don't know any of the names / numbers of these trails because they are all so confusing).

Don't forget to make a sacrifice of a Clif Bar and bottle of Gatorade

at the altar on the way down, so as to not anger the biking Gods

Once I reached the main access road after bombing down the remainder of the trails at the mouth of the canyon, I made my way over to the Provo Canyon Race Loop and did a quick lap for old times' sake. (PCRL was where I began my love affair with mountain biking after I got my '03 S-Works Enduro.) After that, It was a quick roll over to Canyon Glen for my first stop of the day.

PB&J and goldfish--breakfast of champions

After a quick carbo intake, I was off on the most awful, terrible, and boring part of the ride... Pavement. 9.3 miles of it. In reality, it's not THAT bad as the initial part is on the Provo River Parkway, then a quick ride up Provo Canyon, taking a left up the North Fork on the way to Sundance. Having done this ride several times on a road bike, I can say that I definitely enjoy having the mountain bike gearing when I want to wimp out and take it easy on the climbs. I usually knock out the pavement first thing on the RAT, so having a lot of elevation / miles under my belt made the climb a bit more tedious, but not unbearable.

After finally making it up the pavement I began the climb up the Aspen Grove trail up to the Summit of AF Canyon.

This brings me back--Theater in the Pines (right by the Aspen Grove trailhead)

The underground cavern of this thing has bats and smells like carrot sticks

The initial climb up Aspen Grove is loose, VERY rocky, and not too fun. But don't cry too much sissies, as the trail eventually becomes quite buff, still technical, but with very dense foliage and great views and is a blast to ride. Reaching the Summit Trailhead of AF Canyon at this point on the ride is a bit of a misnomer as I had a short (albeit, very fun) descent down the Salamander Flat trail to Timpooneke Campground where the pain of the day for me ultimately began.

At Timpooneke, I took a quick break, refilled my Camelbak, and filled up my water bottle which had about 5 scoops of Gatorade in it. (I call this ultra concentrated version of Gatorade, 'Superade' and am currently in the process of getting that trademarked--patent pending.) The Superade is as sweet as your mommy's loving kisses and is twice as potent. I highly recommend washing it down with some water after consuming.

Surprise, surprise, the Timpooneke parking lot is jam-packed full and it's still early morning... At least I didn't have to find a parking spot for my bike

After downing a bag of Craisins and a Clif Bar I was ready to head up to Julie Andrews Meadow. (Craisins, by the way, have to be one of the tastiest trail-side snacks I have ever had. I highly recommend taking some on your next ride. Ocean Spray is paying me to say that.)

When I did the RAT several weeks ago, the climb up to JAM wasn't terrible--it was still very early in the morning and the trail was in OK shape--still plenty of hike-a-bike sections, but nothing too terrible. Well, give the trail a couple weeks without any rain, add in a lot more heat, and the climb up to JAM this go around was much more difficult. Not to mention the fact that I'd already ridden 25 - 30 miles with a buttload of climbing. I definitely chose to hike my bike on many more sections than I had previously done. But after tears, sweat, and more tears, I finally crested that sucker and broke out into a song from The Sound of Music. Oh wait, no I didn't, I sobbed like a little pansy out of happiness for having that section of the ride over with.

Julie Andrews is definitely a beautiful seductress, but she makes you

work extra hard if you want to ride her (innuendo intentional)

Having experienced Julie Andrews twice in a single month, I was ready to move on and continue my trek around Timpanogos. After a quick drop down to Timpanooke road then a fun little downhill section below the cirque on the south side of Timp, I was back to climbing back up to where I would intersect Timpooneke Road again.

Not all sections of the Timp Perimeter trail sucked: look at this--

buff single track through the pines with little green plants growing on the ground!

I generally don't pay attention to this stuff, but I was riding so slowly, I had time to take in my surroundings

View looking up at the cirque on the south side of Timp (maybe not

'the' cirque but 'a' cirque?) I don't know if there's more than one

Timpooneke Road is on the left side of the picture right below all of the shale

The climb out of the bottom of Rock Canyon isn't too difficult, but this far into the ride, I was definitely feeling the burn in my quads (and heat of the day) as I was trying to get back to the Timpooneke Road and the last big climb of the ride. Upon reaching Timpooneke Road, I took one look at the climb ahead of me and realized: "There is no way you can climb that. It is too steep. Too loose. Too rocky. And you are a tired wimp. Get ready to hike." And so I did. A few times I was able to granny gear it up a few sections of the trail, but for the most part, I was fine with pushing my bike up the difficult terrain in my little fairy mountain biking shoes (I put 3 years of wear onto those Sidis during this one ride). The nice part about this last part of the Great Western Trail (151) is that the initial part is so steep the remaining climb is nearly flat. So it's easy rolling until you FINALLY come around the bend around the south side of Timp and are welcomed with the most beautiful sight: Utah Valley below, and plenty of fast singletrack ahead with no one in sight. Bliss. Enjoy the pictures--this section of the ride is just amazing (and having it come at the end made it even better).

Handel himself couldn't have anticipated the 'Hallelujah' that comes from

cresting this section of the trail. Utah Valley is down below on the right.

Miles upon miles of beautiful fields and trails with nary a soul in sight

Oh, and did I mention the singletrack? Through a field of wild flowers? With birds singing beautiful songs? And deer joyfully bounding around you? Yes, it's that magical. (Ok. Some of that was embellished.)

After gleefully (yes, gleefully) bombing through those 'magical' fields on the fast, flowy single track I breezed past the last trail 151 marker where I intersect Timpooneke Road for the last time.

If you look carefully the trail sign reads:

"Here be great singletrack ahead, but beware the great Big Baldy in the distance."

Ok, that was lame, but I'm keeping it because I don't have any other witty subtitles for this picture.

A quick drop down 151 with a sharp right where Grove Creek intersects the trail meant that I was nearing the end of my epic ride. I can say that Grove Creek was much more enjoyable in the light of day and I only had one 3 foot section that I chose to dismount and walk rather than risk my life (Bill probably bunny hopped that section). The drop down GC was extremely fast (and hot as I was nearing the worst part of the day) and I was happy to get down to the trailhead quickly. By now, I was ready to be done with the ride, but alas, I wanted to make the RAT a TRUE King, so I had 4.5 miles of access road to traverse before I was home. A few short climbs / descents on the way home, but pretty much flat for the entire way meant that I was able to survive this last little leg.

The Epilogue: Total miles for the day: ~50. Total elevation: ~8500. Hours riding: 6.5. Me: 1, Timpanogos: 0. But who's really keeping score? I found out later from Kerry that he was sick that day and actually made it all the way to Bridal Veil Falls before turning around and heading back to his car at GC. Bill did the full ride (throwing in a quick loop on SFLDC just because--made me jealous). All in all, a great ride that I will definitely do again. Next time I'm going to wear hiking shoes though, because I think it will make me faster on at least 50% of the trails.