Prepping in Pisgah

After Syllamo's, Nate and I drove a quick 11 hrs to visit friends in Gainesville, GA. I got a few rides in at the Chicopee Trails, Nate got a motor-powered day in at a place called Moto Mountain and we all had a great time. From there we headed up to Brevard, NC to spend a week relaxing and riding, riding and relaxing in no particular order.

After the Pisgah Mountain Bike Stage Race, I wouldn't shut up about how awesome the riding was, how much I wanted to go back, how gnarly and challenging the trails were, how I became friends with rocks during my time here, how Nate needed to see this place, blah, blah, blah. When we started looking at my race calendar, at Nate's time off and at the miserable weather pattern in Idaho and Jackson Hole, landing at Pisgah for 9 days sounded like a great idea. It has been the best idea ever.

The general approach this week has been for me to get comfy on east coast terrain on my new bike, the Felt Edict:

Nate's knowledge of suspension and patience has really helped me dial it in this week, although I could tell with little tinkering that this thing is an absolute rocket. I think I may call it my full suspension hard tail. Just enough squish, tracks dead-on straight, zero power lost to pedaling bob. I've also been trying a bunch of new tire combinations and although I've been digging both the Slant 6s and the Nevegals around here, I can't seem to shake my preference for the speed/grip combination of the Karmas on both my 26 and 29" bikes for race day.

Also, going back and forth from 29" to 26" wheels has been a non-issue for me. To me, bikes are like skis. Each one has a job and excels in certain conditions and the Edict is tearing up the rooty, rocky, slippery, tight trails of Pisgah quite to my liking.

The goal for the week was to get my brain prepped for the Transylvania Epic. Riding stuff here, I've been told, is going to make State College, PA feel like a road race. Okay, maybe not quite that smooth, but easier. After a week of 3-4 hr rides chasing down Nate on his 5' bike and wicked east-coast riding roots (he raced in New England in high school) and also trying desperately to keep up with our buddy and occasional pro downhiller Park on his local trails, I think I'm set as I'll ever be. Eddie and Nam also came up from GA to join us for a few days. It's been like camp Pisgah. If I could stand the humidity long-term I think I'd be looking at real estate here...although probably something a little nicer than this place:

Park, Nate and Demo. Chasing them around the woods for a week makes interval training obsolete.

Getting comfy on the slippery rocks. No match for the Edict.

Prime Mountain Laurel season on Squirrel Gap.

Top of Heartbreak Ridge. 2.5 hrs of climbing for 40 min of DH. Seems like a fair trade.

Looking towards Heartbreak Ridge.

Park's dog, Demo. Definitely the best trail-trained dog I've ever ridden with.

Looking down Pilot. Steep switchbacks, drops, piles of big ol' rocks. So. Much. Fun.

I will forever call the "Pilot Rock" trail "Pile of Rocks". Because that's what the trail is:

Tomorrow, it's back on the road. Visiting family in MD, then to State College. Of all the places I've traveled to to ride my bikes, Pisgah and this vacation is going to be the hardest to leave. Good thing I have a great race to drag me away!

Syllamo's Revenge: NUE #2

We started off our road trip out to the 2nd NUE of the year with a nice visit with great pals in CO. Nate got a bunch of time in on his moto and I got in a very hot and painful XC race at the Battle of the Bear, some good rides at White Ranch and in the Apex area in Golden. Most importantly, I got to see many of my bestest college pals, folks who knew and loved me way before my weenie bike racing days. Thanks again, Heids, for putting together a great BBQ!

Ahhh, the race: I knew Syllamo's was going to be hard. But not that hard. I have post-race pain in body parts that I didn't know could hurt from riding bikes. But it went well, considering all that went down.

We got to our cabin outside of Mountain View, AR mid-day on Wednesday and discovered that we didn't have any cell reception or internet. Definitely a mixed blessing, but it was the perfect recipe for 10+hrs of sleep a night and zero distractions! We had great company, too, as we shared the place with the racing/promoting/wobble-naught bike fitting/nutrition designing/all around badass- super couple of Eddie and Namrita O'Dea, setting the stage for a relaxing week of race prep.

Local flooding on the way. So sad to see...

Thankfully, Andrea Wilson was gracious enough to show us around her "local" trails, even though we were, in comparison to her, a bunch of weenies with gears and -GASP- suspension forks. She even let me ride her rigid singlespeed for about 5 min. That was rad. Tempting, I tell ya...

Anyway, we got great rides in on both Thursday and Friday, previewing a few of the Syllamo loops that would make up the 125k race. Friday's ride was definitely the most interesting, as it rained almost 2" on Thursday night and poured for a good 30 min. section of my and Nate's 2.5 hr ride. Not only did I get a reminder that rain+mossy east-coast rocks=riding on ice, I also got a reminder that this race was going to be determined by much, much more than fitness. On the drive home that afternoon I tried to figure out the best way possible to remind my dry-dusty wide open western trail riding brain that I still call Pisgah forest my favorite trails in the world....

Nate was once again a saint, putting in hours of work into my bicycle both Thursday and Friday while Nam and I overdosed on foam rolling, stretching, snacking and bad tv. Being married to a pro mechanic definitely makes me desperately want to find a way to make the leap to a factory team so this can be a constant way of life....hahah. For now, being married to Nate is way more than good enough.

During the drive to the racecourse on Saturday morning, I talked through my strategy with Nate. Typically, this is something I do in my head. Having your best friend hear you out is way more effective. I told him that this was going to be a day that, more than likely, everything is going to go wrong. It's just the nature of the terrain, the conditions and the length of the torture. I went in ready for a mental and physical beat down but was hoping for the best. It was my job to figure out a way to win, no matter what happened.

Syllamo's is pretty straightforward: 1.5 mile or so climb on doubletrack to 100 % singletrack for the remainder of the race. I knew my competition, had a plan and got going on it from the start. Go hard for the holeshot to get ahead of the ridiculous traffic that was no doubt going to pile up once it got narrow techy, settle in and ride as smoothly as possible. Smooth and smart was going to be fast.

That plan was going well until I felt my rear tire go soft just after aid 1. Hmmmm. I let it go for a little and then stopped to look for a leak and give it a shot of CO2. No leak located so I assumed I burped it. Then some chain suck issues started up. About 10 min later, my rear tire went soft again. Another look, no leak found, more Co2. Again, it went down to about 10psi and I knew it was tube time. I got to work on putting a spare in and although it didn't go as smoothly as I wanted, it wasn't the worst change on record. Cheryl went cruising by, was nice enough to ask if I needed anything. I got going about 5 min. after she passed. After it was all set and done, I probably lost 10-15 min. on the flat and other mechanical issues. No biggie, right? It was only going to be a big deal if I made it a big deal.

If you had a mechanical-free day, you were definitely in the minority. I mean, just look at what Syllamo's can do to a bike:

Nate took this photo of a guy's bike at Aid 2. He is okay. Clearly, his bike is not.

When I started pedaling again I had an important choice to make. How was I going to approach this chase? The control freak in me wanted to go out at XC pace to catch her asap. The smart enduro racer however knew that was a really easy way to blow up and never make it back. So, I approached it as a steady strong effort rather than a panicked, spazzed out catch-up-all-at-once effort. After a long stop at Aid 2 where somehow Nate got my bike working to perfection, I was ready for the chase.

I caught Cheryl about 4.5 hours in, 2 hrs after I flatted. It was on the section of trail that was, comparatively speaking, smooth, punchy and required a lot of power. Perfect timing. After sitting on her wheel for about 15 min., I was ready to go. After a few botched attempts to pass, she graciously offered me the pass and I went on my way. From there I just started feeling better and better and over the next 3 hours, built a 15 min. lead.

I finished in 7:35, but it was the longest 7:35 I have had in a long time. Every inch of my body hurt after that effort. Places I didn't know I had. Although I still think the 29 hard tail was the perfect choice and because I love my Felt Nine more than any bike I have ever ridden, parts of me was wishing I had raced a 6" bike with body armor. My average HR was the lowest I have ever seen in an Ultra and my legs actually feel quite fresh just 2 days after. To me, that shows that Syllamo's is probably the most punishing NUE course out there. Fitness was small part of the endeavor. If your body/brain/mental state wasn't ready, failure was likely. There were times my face hurt because I was smiling so much when I was riding. But, I also think my brain hurt from the constant barrage of "Oh my lord, I need to ride up/down/over that? Again?"

Syllamo's is a great addition to the series and I was stoked to attend such a well-run event. Steve and his crew did a great job, especially because they had to manage a 50miler and a 125k at the same time. My trophy is awesome. It also makes me glad we drove here:

Next up, a week of R&R in Pisgah before the Transylvania Epic. This weekend was a great warmup!

Cohutta 100

Finally, a 100-miler! Although I have been racing a bunch of cross country this year with some good results, 100s are what I love most. Saying I was excited for Cohutta is a complete understatement.

Photo @ Sara Kristen

I felt great going into the race. Training had been going well, I had just spent 3 days getting my bikes dialed and working on my pedal stroke and position with Tom at Wobble-Naught and I was chomping at the bit to get to a race that mattered to me.

Sometimes the traveling is the most difficult part of being a pro racer. My trip out to Cohutta was one of those trips where nothing was going to go smoothly. Thankfully, I have had very few days like this in my career and I suppose days like these are just a function of involving airplanes in your travel plans. My travel to Chattanooga happened to be on the day of some of the worst tornadoes in the south's history.

From Salt Lake, I was rerouted to Memphis, sat on the runway for hours while they tried to fix our weather radar, got off the plane, got back on the plane, got off again, tried to rent a car and drive to Ducktown from Memphis but couldn't because my bags never made it from Salt Lake. I then got a hotel and a 3.5 hour nap at a Memphis hotel, tried to catch an early flight to Atlanta which got delayed then cancelled, finally got a flight to ATL, got on a flight to Chattanooga....but apparently my bags did not. Sigh. I got to CHA, rented a car, drove to Whole Foods to burn some time and eat real food for the first time in 24 hours only to find they had lost power and had to throw away all their fresh produce. I had a small, private temper tantrum, did some shopping for dry goods, went back to the airport and waited for my bags to show up. I finally got my bag and bike, looked for a grocery that had fresh produce, drove to Ducktown and arrived at my hotel at 9pm, 35 hours after leaving my house in Idaho, just in time to attempt to get a solid night sleep.

I had never personally witnessed the selective destruction a tornado can do. The 1-hr drive to Ducktown took almost 3 because all the traffic lights were out and crews were out clearing the road of debris, large trees and powerlines, giving me ample opportunity to gawk at mother nature's power. A roof would be blown entirely off one building, and the one next to it would be fine. In some places it looked like some one had taken a 50-yard wide weed wacker straight though a field. Pretty sobering stuff. I definitely thought a lot about the people affected during my travels and even though I'm not religious and being described as spiritual would be a stretch, I tried to send as much healing energy to those affected as I could.

Friday was typical 100-miler prep. Building my bike, getting out for a solid 2hr ride with a bunch of intervals to blow out the travel, mixing up aid station drops, trying not to get overly excited. I had enough time to actually get into bed and put my feet up for the afternoon, but the only thing that was on was the royal wedding. WTF? On every channel? Netflix on demand came to the rescue.

I got up at 4:30am Saturday and started pumping the coffee. As I was running out the door, I just happened to see that the coffee I had been drinking all morning was DECAF! Apparently, in my post travel haze, I didn't notice that the spiffy package of Organic Italian Roast had a tiny little line that said decaf. Thankfully, I had a few emergency Starbucks Vias (I never travel without them) and at least got a little caffiene into me on the way to the start.

The 7am start was COLD. It was probably about 45 deg. and this is clearly where I made my first mistake of the day. I chose to start in just a jersey and shorts and definitely should have started in both leg and arm warmers. The 15 sec. it would have taken me to take them off and put them in my pockets would have been worth the 4 hours I spent struggling to warm up.

The Cohutta start is a 5-8%, 3-mile paved climb to almost 10 miles of singletrack, so getting the hole-shot is critical. You don't want to be stuck behind a train of slower traffic because the opening hour has few passing options. I thought I had set myself up nicely, going at XC race pace to stay with the lead pack of men, until a guy who was riding quite spastically decided to fold it over on the first switchback, right in front of me. This is where Cheryl passed me and how she got in front for the next 30 min. of singltrack. This is also where my body temp dropped drastically. I wasn't going hard enough to generate any heat, but it was probably more because I dressed like I was going to the beach.

A train of men had stacked up behind us and that's when I finally spoke up, said she had better accelerate or get out of the way to let them by. I managed to get by finally, let a bunch of those guys go ahead of me, and then settled into a more comfortable rhythm. It wasn't until I got into the pace that I actually wanted to ride at that I realized that I wasn't going very well. At all. Legs felt like blocks of cold wood. HR was low. Cadence was slow. I tried to push as hard as I could but not much was coming of the effort. I stopped at Aid 2 to fill some bottles and went on my way.

Photo @ Sara Kristen

Cheryl caught me just after Aid 2 when I was feeling my worst. I had that sinking feeling of "Oh boy, it's gonna be a long day." We rode together for the next 10 miles or so and she was riding so well, so strong and taking such monster pulls I really thought I was in trouble. I just tried my best not to panic, so keep it steady and to be patient with my body. I knew I would come around eventually, no sense in feeling badly about the fact that I was feeling bad, right?

Finally, at about mile 34 I pulled away from her. I made it in and out of Aid 3 quickly and set out on my own way. By hour 4 I started to feel better. By hour 5 I finally felt like myself. My legs opened up, my head cleared and I started passing people steadily. Feeling good built more confidence and allowed me to concentrate on not smearing off the edges of the endless, harrowing gravel road descents. Drifting corners is not my speciality. Especially on newly graveled roads. At some point during the race I hit 39 MPH. Thankfully, it wasn't when a car was coming at me around the corner. Generally speaking, the last few hours were awesome. I just kept feeling stronger and stronger.

I finished 1st, in 7:33, a full 30 min. faster than my time last year and 29 min ahead of 2nd place. Granted, it wasn't raining sideways, thundering or lightening, but besting my time by 1/2 an hour felt really good. I seemed to remember that Pua had done it a few years back in 7:45, so I was shooting to finish better than that. No word on whether that's a course record or not, though.

For you equipment hounds reading, the set up I used is what I consider my typical Ultra rig: the Felt Nine, perfectly fit to Wobble-Naught standards, Kenda Karmas in a 1.9 front and rear, GX2 Ergon Grips with , Sram 2x10 drivetrain with 40/26 WickWerks rings and an 11/36 cassette. I used bottles (1 on the bike, one in the pocket) filled with Hammer Nutrition Heed, flasks of Hammer gel, Endurance Amino and Endurolytes, and Pearl Izumi Octane SL II Shoes.

My travel day home went very smoothly, although it required another 4am wakeup call to make my flight. I made it home in time for a quick spin on the trainer (it was snowing), a walk with the dog and a much needed massage. I followed that up with a way more painful ART and active stretching session at 121 Wellness on Monday and think my recovery is going to be the fastest ever. Good thing, because Syllamo's Revenge 100K, the second NUE, is less than 2 weeks away.

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading!