The Park City 50

Ever have one of those incredible weekends where the race result was the smallest part of the fun? Don't get me wrong, I love racing and winning is fun. But sometimes having a weekend where the result was just one aspect of a very good time is a reminder that even when your race doesn't go well, fun can (and should) be had.

Is this what mountain bike heaven looks like?

The Park City 50 is part of the Utah State Championship Series, a new series that is, I think, setting a new standard for how racing should be. I was happy to put it on my schedule as part of a good training block heading into the High Cascades 100 in 2 weeks. I suppose it didn't hurt that Park City is quite possibly one of my favorite places on the planet to ride my mountain bike. Pisgah is up there, but nothing quite matches Park City's endless flowing singletrack and the sheer volume of quality trails...and it's only 4.5 hrs away. Blink of an eye for this road warrior.

I rented a condo for a big group of some of my favorite racing pals from Jackson: Piker, the Marks (Hershberger and LLinares) and the fastest couple in Wyoming, Cary Smith and Amy Fulwyler. Gabe and Ben Auf. were sniffing around, too. That's a lot of fast packed into one 4 BR place. Racing abilities aside, it was just a great group of passionate, funny, fun and shit-talking individuals, filled with great energy, out to have a good time. But, it must be noted that as a group we won both pro divisions, won the 50+ category, came in 2nd and 4th in 2 expert divisions and if the others had stayed on course and kept air in their tires, well, they would have been up there, too.

I had a simple plan for the race: no plan. Sort of scary, totally out of character, but it was all in the name of a good training day. After a lot of hemmin' and hawin', I decided to ride my Felt Nine with a set of burlier than usual tires, the Kenda Slant 6s, 2.0s. "Burly" being that each tire weights about 725 grams...and I typically run Karmas in a 1.9 that are about 530 or SB8s in a 2.1 that are only 550. I know, living on the edge...but knowing how rocky the mid-mountain trail gets, I wanted to run something heavier. Trying to choose between my Nine and my Edict (26" wheeled 4" dually) is like trying to choose your favorite child. But, keeping in mind that this race was in the name of training for 2 larger objectives (the High Cascades 100 and the Park City Point to Point) the Felt Nine was the eventual call.


Race morning was more casual than usual in terms of warmup...after standing in line for 20 min. for the bathroom, I was 3rd to go when I heard the "1 min. to the pro start" being called over the loud speaker. Dang it, wasn't going make it. I made it to the line with literally 30 sec. to spare with a full bladder, not even having a chance to scan who was lined up next to me.

The race started on a 1 mile climb straight up a fire road. Great for thinning out the pack but not for cold legs. I opened up with a strong and steady pace, avoiding XC effort. I had put a gap the women's field by the time we entered singletrack and no one was in sight when I started to descend. After blowing one corner (man, some of those course markings were sneaky) and getting back on, I was determined to keep my head up. Which I did. Which took me off course anyway.

Why a person would waste any energy to go out and move course markings in a bike race is beyond my comprehension, but that's what happened. Some wanker moved some flags which ended up causing many racers to miss a key turn into the John's singletrack climb. Long story short, my detour caused me some frustration, put about 30 slower riders into technical singletrack ahead of me and erased the gap I had just worked hard to gain. Guys ahead were chit chatting like they were out playing golf and all I could think was holy heck we're in a bike race here fellas, someone please hit the gas. Whatareyagonnado? Feeling my frustration mounting, it was time to pull my head out of my arse, get some perspective and make a mind shift.

Anyone who has gotten lost for any amount of time in a race knows what I'm talking about here: it screws with your head if you let it. It takes the wind out of your sails, gives you something negative to focus on and whether it has consequences on the results or not, it has consequences for your spirit. It can be deflating, defeating and distracting. However, the key here is "if you let it." This time around, moving on was more of a struggle for me than I'd like to admit, but shortly after the first feed zone I had regained my mojo - strong but steady pace on the ups, conservative (and flat/injury avoiding) in mind on the downs - and set out after the solid training day I was looking for.

That's how it went for the rest of the day. I suffered a bit, smiled a lot, did nothing crazy, went for no silly passes on the descents and really just enjoyed not having to ride like a total maniac on such an enjoyable racecourse. I even got to ride with some friends. I erred on the side of stopping to adjust things, to fill my bottles when I probably didn't have to, stuck with groups who were a tad slower than my normal race pace and man, did that really add to the enjoyment of the day.

Did I mention that Park City singletrack is like mountain bike heaven? Yup. It was that kind of day.

I won it in 5:01 feeling fresh and happy. I suppose that's what happens when you are used to 100-milers, but I think it was due to my mellow approach to the day. Over the years I've learned that racing takes a lot more emotional energy than I think. Racing to win takes even more. We can typically feel the physical impacts and the bumps and bruises immediately. However, unless you pay close attention, the mental energy expended is difficult to measure and keep track of. Perhaps it was the giggle-inducing terrain, but I had a very low stress/high fun day. The equal and generous pro payout didn't hurt, either!

A good friend I used to back county ski with would always talk about the meat-to-bun ratio when planning our tours. Meaning, is the powder worth the climb? Is the suffering (the bun) worth the descent (the juicy, delicious meat)? I would argue that the PC 50 had one of the best meat-to-bun ratios of any race, ever. A great weekend indeed.