Prelude: Friday afternoon: I'm in the parking lot of my hotel putting my secret lube combination on the ol' Moots (and it is old) when a fellow rider (only riders and their crews were there) stopped to say hello. He liked the bike (but then he had a shiny new Moots YBB extra-light in his room), but was pretty skeptical of my tire selection -- Bontrager Revolt Super-X up front, worn Ritchey Speedmax on the rear. I assured him I knew what I was doing, and he assured me it was too rough out there not to have knobbies. The fact that I wasn't doing the camel back thing and wasn't planning to ask my family to crew was also suspect in his eyes. As he wandered off, I’m sure he was thinking I'd be a DNF.

I lined up about 150 people off the front line early Saturday morning and tried to keep warm prior to the start. It was cloudy and felt damp by mountain standards — it was gonna rain and I would have thought it was obvious to all, but apparently not. We started at the mighty shotgun blast, and blasted off ourselves down the paved hill. Most folks in the first 70 or so seemed to know what they were doing and consequently I wasn’t in fear of my life. We hit the dirt and soon enough started the first climb. I’d eaten a substantial breakfast (bagels with honey, Pop Tarts, a Powerbar, Gatoraide and water), so my enthusiasm was kept in check by my "queasy" stomach. It was wall-to-wall people, but the double track allowed plenty of room and folks were kind and coordinated. We blasted down the paved road at the top of the climb and clambered into the single track. I rode a bit, walked a bit — pretty standard stuff in a crowded race. We exited onto the climb up Sugarloaf (to the top of the infamous "Powerline"). There was a continual ebb and flow of riders — I’d pass some, get passed by others. The upper part of the Powerline was a blast coming down — the steep, washed out section had me riding the brakes — but I was comforted by the fact that this was a race where my wimpy descending skills wouldn’t really matter. The paved road was time to find a paceline. I’m a great wheel sucker — I can hang-in on any group, but I find it difficult to take the monster pulls some of those guys were doing. I’m from the old school — a lot of short pulls, not these "hero-type" pulls. If they want to, fine, but I’m not gonna set out there plugging hard in the wind for long. About this time fellow Laramie resident Ed shows up. Ed is strong as an ox and always happy — I’m not sure if I trust him.

A group of about 10 rolled into the 1^st feedzone together -- I exited this site in about 77th place, 19 minutes behind the leaders. (Split times and placings are from the awesome website: http://www.trail100.com/bike2000/index.php3) I think I was the only one to go to the Trail 100 people for my water and poweraide — everyone else had "crews". Now, if my wife/friend/mother had nothing better to do, I might have shaved a minute off my time having them hand up bottles as I rolled by. If I was vying for the win, perhaps it would be important — but it's not necessary to have someone driving all over Lake County for you.

As I pulled out of the first feedzone, I noted the presence of the defending women’s champion from last year, Christina Begy. I figured I was doing okay on the pacing because I knew she had come in a bit under 9 hours last time and that was my rough goal for this event. I motored off down the pipeline trail and finally felt like I could eat. I slurped down some cliff shots — I highly recommend using one of those plastic shot dispensers — saves a mess and it’s much easier to handle than individual packages. About this time, former Laramie resident Tim Gabelson rolls up to me. Tim was seriously fast and had a Leadville 100 personal best of 8hrs 26min. We passed the time a bit, with him noting that we were making good time and were still under a 9 hour pace (big belt buckle!). I had no idea of what splits should be and was just riding at a pace that would get me through 100 miles as fast as possible. Before I expected it, I rolled into the 2nd feedzone at Twin Lakes. I had hardly touched my fluids in the sprint from the 1st feedzone so I just rolled on through. A half-mile out I stopped to pee -- the absolute first time in my life that I've ever urinated during a bike race and I've done a fair amount of racing -- so I must have been hydrating adequately. With a lightened bladder and energized by Cliff shots, I started feeling pretty good. That was a good thing as it was time to start the climb to Columbine Mine.

Ed and I were back together again and started the climb yaking-it-up. I actually think it was a good thing, although it might have been irritating to those around us. It's an old runner's trick -- if you're going too hard to talk, you probably are going too hard for the distance. Eventually we had to shut-up and ride. I continued to feel amazingly good, considering the distance and length of the climb, and passed a number of riders. Soon after I entered the tough jeep trail portion of the climb, the lead rider came bouncing down, bellowing at the top of his lungs. I thought it was sort of strange until someone pointed out that he had a flat and was yelling in anger. He had quite a lead and apparently dealt with the situation adequately, and went on to win the race. Little did I know that an old high school friend, Drew Geer, was near the lead, hitting the Columbine Mine turnaround in fifth place. He's now an ER doc in Boulder and apparently hasn't lost the speed and lungs that took him to the Cycling Junior Nationals and put him on the CU ski team. I hit the turnaround in 37th place (43 minutes behind the leader), topped off on water and bounced down the hill, trying to avoid the horde of riders headed uphill. Ed, Tim and Greg Kaufman (another Laramie resident) were all fast approaching the top of Columbine, as was the lead woman -- I was still feeling good and well positioned for a sub-9 hour ride. Flying down the nice gravel road was a kick -- tons of people riding up -- everyone cheering each other on. I passed by Nat and Becka, the second place tandem team (also from Laramie), and they were looking strong. At the bottom of the hill I rolled up to a guy spinning madly along on a single speed -- he beat my butt to the top! I gassed-up again at the Twin Lakes aide station and joined up with a few different groups on the way to the Fish Hatchery. Since this was largely flat to rolling, it was possible to make good time. I was still feeling fine and went with the faster folk. I guess it was through here (somewhere after 60 miles) that I first started noting that people were feeling the distance. Busting along the pipeline was fun -- largely downhill and on dirt to boot. I topped off at the Fish Hatchery feed zone and left there in 32nd place, 44 minutes behind the leader).

A group of about 5 of us approached the dreaded powerline climb with obvious apprehension -- amid a few rain drops. Just as we started up, we began to hear thunder -- I almost laughed it was so melodramatic. Once again, I felt pretty good -- mind you it wasn't fun pushing the bike up the steep portion, but the subsequent on-the-bike portion of the climb went pretty well. Near the top, with booms following the flashes by only a second or two I came across two folks taking refuge in the woods. I figured I just wanted to get the hell out of there (i.e. - down in a valley) so I put on my jacket and descended through the rain. I dropped into the single track, wet but fairly clean, and came out the bottom soaking wet and muddy from head to toe. My hands were pretty frigid by then and my up-shifts had become bulky -- between the two conditions it made for some interesting gear changes. Just as I started up the road climb -- more-or-less the last obstacle, I came upon a surreal vision -- a 400-pound woman in spandex on a mountain bike riding up the hill in the rain. Despite thinking I was pretty lucid, I asked the guy I caught on the hill if he had seen it too -- he had and was just as puzzled as I. Good for her -- I hope she keeps riding and does the whole route next year.

Well, over the course of that climb, the descent, and the climb into town I picked off a few more people -- I'm not exactly sure where or when -- and finished up in 22nd place at 8:37:12 (the winner came in at 7:31:09). I should have sprinted and dropped the guy I caught on the pavement (well, he had passed me about a mile earlier), but I was plenty happy about my finish -- better than I expected even on a good weather day. It was probably the best performance I've ever had on a bike. I apparently ate right, dressed right, paced right -- frankly, if they said I had another 20 miles to go, I would have happily trundled on. That's always been my modus operandi -- can't go fast, but can go long.

Postscript: I got the big belt buckle. Moreover, when the denizens of my hotel relived the ride that evening and the next morning, I had top bragging rights. Apparently, my tire choice, use of bottles, and lack of crew support were okay. I must say, the family support was always there -- they just didn't need to cater to my every whim. After I'd cleaned-up, the family and I sloshed over to the finish line and watched some people roll-in. We got there just as Nat and Becca finished (11:21:49) -- it was an inspiring sight. They looked both shattered and triumphant, and not a little hypothermic. Laramie residents in general did quite well, with Ed pulling in at 9:01:42 (!!), Tim at 9:06:16, and Greg at 9:50:52. The weather in Laramie may not be as harsh as Leadville, but it’s not far behind and living here toughens you up for events like this.

What I rode: A Moots YBB. There was about $100,000 worth of Moots' on the mountain that day -- for a good reason. It's a perfect bike for that course (or most any course). Fast tires — i.e., semi-slicks. It might even be worth using "true" slick tires.

What I wore: Shorts with a real leather chamois dosed up with bag balm, a long-sleeve polypro shirt, and a jersey with good pockets. I started the race wearing a pair of lab gloves over my riding gloves. I also had a newspaper shoved up the front of my jersey for the first 15 miles to cut the wind and keep my chest warm (it works, try it!).

What I carried in my jersey pockets: All my food (two packs of Pop Tarts (untouched), 15 Cliff shots (5 Raspberry Sorbet in a flask, 5 Chocolate Espresso in a flask, 5 individual packets -- I emptied my flasks but left the packets untouched), a nylon rain shell. I used two large bottles for fluids -- one water and one with whatever sports drink was being served.

What I carried in my seat bag: Two inner tubes, a multi-tool, two tire levers, one quick fill canister, one disposable chain lube. I carried a minipump attached to the frame.

What I worried about: How I felt -- it's an out-and-back course so you know what's coming in the second half. I rode at a pace that I felt would assure me I could get to the finish line without bonking.

What I didn't worry about: Split times, the weather. I did take note of other's positions and relative efforts, but I never looked at my watch until I had ridden 94 miles. Also, I never had to worry about running out of food or if I'd be caught in bad weather without the proper gear -- I carried food and a jacket the entire time.

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