Snotcycle Mountain Bike Race Report

7.6 miles of frozen tundra – and electric fences

“’Weather be damned…”” Mical’s e-mail read. “This sounds like a fun race for you to do!” I looked over the race information provided in the A-list description – a mountain bike race in Leesburg, VA at the end of January, on a private course only open one other time of year – in April for the Bakers Dozen 13 hour mtb race. Never mind that I haven’t been on the bike since September, the introduction from the race director made it sounded like it might be the type of atmosphere I’d enjoy:

“…and a good old fashioned "Fear this", "Piss on Ford, Chevy, and Chrysler", Screw the economy, rebel yell hella good time.I don’t want to hear any of the following crap:

My drivetrain will get damaged
My spandex will get dirty
I will slip in the mud
My toes will get cold
The bourbon in my water bottle tastes funny with cow crap in it”

Yep, I’d better dust off the ‘ole 29er and figure out how to seal my camelback well enough to keep the cow crap out. What about my poor little drivetrain?

Conveniently, the working farm where this race is located is the property adjacent to White's Ferry on the Potomac River, so it was easy to get there early on the cold Saturday morning of race day. I was a little nervous as I crossed the river, as I always am before a mtb race on a course I’ve never been on before. The river had some light ice flowing downstream as the ferry crossed it – foreshadowing of what was to come?

Driving onto the property, I passed through a wide swath of pine trees that had obviously been planted as a buffer to shield the property from the noise of VA 50 which borders it on the west side (the Potomac boarders it on the East). Coming out of the trees, I was surprised at how many cars were already in the frozen, snowy field, - I was a tad early, and the beginner male race was the first race of the day. Doing some slight off-roading in the Prius, I found a spot in the second row of cars. Getting out of the car to go pick up my registration packet, I suddenly realized I had made a mistake in not bringing any warmer clothes for the pre/post race – it was cold! At the registration tent I picked up my swag, a neat winter cap with the snot-cycle logo on it. With no protection from the wind on the walk back to the car I found my fingers already going numb.

Back at the car I realized that I had parked right next to some racers sponsored by Dogfish! They were opening several cases of beer and putting them in a cooler in the back of their truck – I made some small talk with them and asked what they got out of being sponsored by Dogfish other than being everyone’s friend at the end of the race. “That’s pretty much it” they said. From their discussion I gathered that they were entered in the sport and expert class races, so they would be racing later and longer then I would be (beginners do 2 loops of the 7.6 mile course, while sport started an hour later and did 3 loops, experts even later doing 4 loops. Also, all racers would wear smart tags strapped to their ankles, a first for me on a mtb race).

Since it was not that long before my race I got my things in order and decided to do a little pre-race riding to get the feel of riding in the froze/snowy conditions. Getting on my bike I started riding across the field. The traction actually didn’t seem too bad, on the untracked snow you would break through the crust, giving you some traction. Getting on a dirt road through the field I decided to lightly pedal through the turn to see how the traction would hold up, figuring I would be able to right myself if I started to sl….. WHAM! The bike immediately goes down, dropping me on my right hip on solid ice. G*D D*#N that hurt! The thought immediately flashed through my mind of tales about the elderly relative told by sad mourners at the funeral home: “He was in such good shape for 90, until he fell and broke his hip. After that it was just a quick decline until….” Hips get broken on falls like that. Gingerly I flexed my hip, and found it still moved. The hip was not broken, I was not the elderly relative, and there was no need to call the mortician quite yet.

Getting up, and now freezing, I gimped the bike over to the bonfire to warm up, not even sure now if I should start the race. Before making a decision I made a half-hearted attempt to pre-ride the first part of the course. This consisted of a ¼ mile dirt farm-road which varied between sheets of ice and torn-up frozen dirt before entering the pine tree buffer I had driven through earlier. In the trees the snow had not been packed into ice yet. I decided that if I kept it in the low gears and did not try to provide any power or breaking through the turns I would probably survive, but this would be a ride, not a race. Going to the start I heard someone say it was 13 degrees, and although I don’t think it was really that cold, the fall had made it feel even colder – I no longer had any competitive fire to draw on.

At the start of the race I lined up at the very back of the rather large pack of beginner males. “Get Ready – Go!” – and the strangest race start ever unfolded before my eyes: other than a few people at the start of the pack, everyone else lollygagged. There is no other word for it. I heard someone say “This is the slowest race start in history”. It was going so slow that I decided I needed to pass some people just to keep warm - I did a slow cross-country next to the road until getting into the single track in the pine-buffer. Once on the single track the race took on the feel of a leisurely summer ride on cruisers (beyond the fact that it was freezing), with everyone going slow on the straight stretches and then virtually stopping for the curves. The pine buffer reminded me of those easy, flat ski-trails at the resorts out west, and the snow was about that consistency – probably would have made for quite nice cross-country skiing.

At first I was glad to be taking it easy, but soon it became ridiculous – with the snow and the single track it was impossible to pass. After about 2 miles we came out of the pine buffer onto a road bordered by electric fences separating two fields that took you to the center of the farm – at this point I decided it was time to make some headway and started passing people on some good frozen dirt to the side. Thinking it might give me better traction on the ice I turned my front fork suspension off, just in time to get shaken to bits crossing a section of field rutted out with frozen hoof impressions from the resident herd (much worse than trying to rid over cobblestones). This took us into the trees for a convoluted singletrack that lasted around 4.5 miles. This trail “flowed” quite nicely, using the landscape to direct the trail, and I could tell that it would be a lot of fun in the summer. In some ways it is similar to Schaffer’s, but with large rocks with interesting natural cuts in them, just large enough for a rider and bike to fit through. Plus you also rode with views of the river in several stretches. Several log obstacles and drop-downs, with a few short steep climbs, but just technical enough to be interesting, not daunting. Plus the snow in this section was of better quality giving you better traction, so at this point I started catching people again. I would often pass people in bunches as they would come across a fallen rider in a turn, or would bunch up at an obstacle and not be able to get over it due to the snow or nerves. Plus, other riders were getting winded at this point as well (thank you Greenway training runs!), since they hadn’t been on their bikes since summer.

After another short stretch in a pine buffer I broke out of the trees and into the field again for about ½ a mile to finish the loop – here the traction was good with very little snow cover – until you passed through the start at which point you passed over mats which recorded your time – 48 minutes! I was pretty happy with that, as I had heard the Dogfish crowd say it would take about an hour to do a lap.

Starting on the second loop I was starting to get cocky – I had not fallen yet, and was feeling pretty good, although I was also starting to feel the need to eat something. My camelback tube kept ½ way freezing up on me, so I was also not drinking as much as I needed to. Going through the pine buffer I passed a rider who had been in my sights for a while. Coming up to the end of the trees I laid the bike down on a turn – not a hard fall, but as long as I was off the bike I decided to eat a gel, during which time the same rider passed me. Getting back on the bike, I caught up to the rider at the beginning of the dirt road boarded by the electric fences. Remembering the good dirt here from the first time around, I decided to hammer it – I see some ice, but I’m just going straight so I should be able to just go right over it and pass this guy. Wham! I hit the dirt with my left hip, sliding into the fence – not as hard as my first fall but hard enough. To add insult to injury, the electric fence is turned on!! I get shocked twice before I’m able to extricate myself. The other rider looks at me like I’m crazy (what kind of idiot rides his bike into an electric fence?) , asks me if I’m OK, and then continues on. Only my pride is injured, but now the wind is out of my sails again, and the next 5 miles look awfully long.

I ride across the field – at the rutted out cattle crossing someone has cast off their camelback and it lies across the trail, most likely it’s frozen shut and someone has thrown it away in disgust. After the bumpy crossing everything hurts – both hips and arms from the wrecks, as well as the nether regions from 5 months off the bike. I turn my front fork back on, desperate for relief from feeling every bump of the frozen ground. It helps. I pass the guy I wrecked in front of - he gets out of my way, probably scared of what the crazy guy who likes to wreck into electric fences will do next.

I’m now in the 4.5 mile single track, which has decided to prove to me that, whatever I thought in the first loop, it is not my friend. I’m now riding by myself, and without someone in front of me to slow me down (amazing, since at this point I’m tired and feel like I’m crawling) I put the bike down in the first 3 turns I come to. You just cannot lean into the turns at all or the snow acts like loose dirt and causes your front tire to slide out. Plus the riders have worn off the surface snow while riding this section on the first loop, revealing the ice underneath. This makes even small rises in the trail treacherous. I ride the next 3.5 miles without seeing another rider. Am I really on the course? Or did I get stuck in something like Fountainhead’s do-loop, riding forever on a frozen path until exhausted, not to be found until the spring thaw like some perverse Encino man in tights?

Well, turns out I was on the right course after all, passing a few other pathetic souls right before breaking out into the field once again. Although I can spot other riders on the trail before me, my heart is not in it and I don’t even really try to catch them before the finish line. I finish the 2nd loop in 47 minutes, only 1 min faster than my first loop due to the various wrecks. However, I did finish 30th out of 58, which, since I basically started in last place means I passed ~ ½ the field during the course of the race, which just seems crazy.

So, what do I think of Snotcycle? Well, it would be a great course for a 13 hour race in April. The course is much easier physically then the Cranky Monkey 12 hour course in Quantico, although this would present its own challenges because you could push yourself harder, which over 13 hours would really add up. As far as a mtb race in January? It’s an experience, but I’ll have to wait to see how long it takes for the hip-soreness to wear off before I can make an un-biased judgment (yes it was fun). Would I do it next year? Next year I will be one year older, one year closer to that call to the mortician and Erik needs a daddy….

Would I do it next year? Yes, but first I’m buying hip armor.

Fin:
So do I have any regrets?

Yes - The Dogfish team was out racing when I got back, so their cooler was locked and I didn’t even get any beer!!

Maryland Challenge 2008

WIND, that is the story of the day from our Maryland Challenge adventure on December 31st!! I didn't think it was possible for the wind to blow that hard all day, turns out it is. Otherwise we had great weather conditions, no rain, temps in the 30s at the start, trail was totally dry, stayed dry at stream crossings, doesn't get much better than that.

Joe, Paul, Mark, Amanda, Cathy and I started around 7am from Pen Mar on Wednesday morning in the dark. We quickly headed north to the PA line and then turned back around to start our journey south to Harpers Ferry. The first 9.6 miles was mostly uneventful. There were the usual climbs, lots of rocks, some pretty views, and then the wind started to kick it into high gear. There were leaves blowing up hill at us and tree branches falling. The wind roared so loudly that we thought it sounded like a train coming, only the train never passed and the roaring wind continued the whole day. Paul and Mark both had close calls with large tree branches falling, but fortunately they were both ok. We passed through our first aid station at Wolfsville Road really quickly because the wind chill made it too cold to stop for very long.

Our next section started off with a climb and then we had some long stretches of really runnable trail. We saw a couple people in this section as we got closer to I-70, otherwise we were mostly on our own all day. We got to our aid at I-70, about 18 miles so far, and were greeted by Lorrin, Bill, Mical, Erik, Katie and Megan. It was really great to see everyone and to fuel up. But it was also really cold so we didn't hang around long here either! Mical and Katie joined us at this point, Paul took over with baby Erik, and we got moving.

The next section is about 5 miles, it was really nice to have some new energy and conversation in our group. Katie and Mical picked us all up and kept us moving to the Turners Gap and our next aid at the South Mountain Inn. Coincidentally we ran into some of our WVMTR friends in this section. Turns out that Bradley Mongold, Paul Davis and Kavara Vaughn don't live far from the AT in MD and were out for a run on this section. We exchanged brief greetings as they blew past us. It was fun to see those guys and provided us another lift!


We blew into the parking lot at the South Mountain Inn about 2:17 pm. In past years we've been in this next section when it got dark and needed to carry lights from here on out. I realized that with our earlier start this year, we could get all the way to Gathland before sunset, I was happy to leave my headlamp behind for a few more miles and get this whole section done in the daylight. The wind was still really strong, the temps were starting to drop, and I grabbed another layer here. Katie decided to continue on with us, this was great, we knew she'd help keep us moving.

Next we headed out for the climb up Lambs Knoll. This climb seems to take forever to me, this year was no different! We finally made it to the top, checked out the great views from White Rocks and continued on our way. Joe, Mark and Katie took off, Cathy, Amanda and I dropped back a bit but we were still making pretty good time, especially since we still had daylight. We made it to Gathland about 4:19, grabbed some food, some more clothes, and took off. We made it until about 5:20 pm before we had to turn on our headlamps. Joe and Mark had taken off at a faster clip. Cathy, Amanda and I pushed on. The wind continued to blast us, some parts of the trail had leaves piled up as high as our knees. We finally got to the really rocky section that proceeds the descent down the switchbacks at Weverton. We really all seemed to slow down through this section. I was wishing I'd grabbed another layer at Gathland. I was trying to think about hot, miserable runs (e.g., Catoctin, XMP runs on towpath, etc) and think warm thoughts. Cathy was talking about hot chocolate. We were darn cold. We finally got to the bottom, greeted our frozen crew, picked up Mark and Joe, and headed down to the towpath for the FINAL 3 miles. Once again the guys took off, we plodded on. When we got to the bridge that crossed over to Harpers Ferry, I decided to skip it, Cathy and Amanda went ahead and crossed to touch ground in WV, they then made the return trip to MD and down the towpath to the finish. I was there waiting with our frozen crew of Bill, Jim, Katie and Megan. Joe and Mark had already made the same bridge crossing and finished.

We then made our way quickly to the cars, said quick goodbyes to Jim and Cathy since they were heading back to VA, and headed down to Lorrin and Joe's for chili, soup, and celebration! Did I mention that I cranked the heat in the car the whole way home!? Megan had to stop the car and take off a layer because I was baking her out of the car.

So this was our 3rd year of the MD Challenge adventure, we completed the approximately 40.5 miles of the AT in MD, from PA to WV, in just under 12.5 hours. Amanda is the only one that's made it all three years. Joe completed the whole thing for the 2nd time. Mark, Cathy and I completed the entire Challenge for the first time this year!! Here are my pictures from the day. Thanks to Bill, Lorrin, Katie, Megan, Mical and Paul for crewing and running with us.

Happy 2009 everyone!

Moutain Masochist Trail Run

Prologue
In 2007 I started out the year planning to do the Lynchburg Ultra Series (LUS), made up of Holiday Lake 50k, Promise Land 50k, and Mountain Masochist Trail Run (MMTR) 50 miler. Then I got the opportunity to go to Ecuador and I got a stress fracture, so I missed the chance to run MMTR. Mical, Lorrin and Mark ended up completing the LUS in 2007 and getting really cool jackets. When 2008 rolled around, I decided I would try again for the LUS. I pitched the idea to Amanda and she took the bait, so as the year rolled by we did Holiday Lake 50k, Promise Land 50k, Capon Valley 50k, Highlands Sky 40 miler (I did half), Cheat Mountain Moonshine Madness 50 miler, and Gunpowder Falls 50k together. I also threw in Black Mountain Marathon, half of HAT 50k, and Catherine's FA for good measure. Mark, Joe, Lorrin, Paul, Mical and Megan joined in for many of these adventures, it's sure good to have friends to share all those miles with!!

MMTR finally arrives!
MMTR has always held an allure for me, it's historic, it's hard, it has the word "masochist" in the name, somehow I had to do it. Frankly it scared me, how would I ever manage to cover 9,000 feet of elevation gain and 7,000 feet of loss in under 12 hours with 16 cut-offs along the way?? Well here's the story of how I just barely made it!

The Start
The bus leaves at 5am from the back of the hotel. We come close to missing bus because all the elevators are full and the stairs say not to use, you will set off an alarm. Finally someone gets smart and pushes the up button and we get on an empty elevator and finally get to the bus! It seems to take forever, I think we got to the start about 5:50am and then spent time standing in line for bathrooms and deciding what to wear.

The race kicks off promptly at 6:30 am in total darkness, probably in the 40s, the stars are beautiful, we do a quick out and back on the Blue Ridge Parkway, past a roadkill beaver, and then start on some rolling roads until we reach mile 5.7 and start in on trails. From this point on, I think we were either climbing or descending, I can't really recall any flat stretches after this point. Up or down will be the theme for the day!

AS#2 (mile 5.7) to AS#8 (mile 22.3)
I can't say anything stands out. We were on single track and climbing at first, then all I remember is we were on jeep roads, fire roads or FS roads. As I mentioned, the cut-offs in this thing made me anxious. But Mical had drilled in my head that I needed to be comfortable being close to them. So as the miles rolled by, we fluctuated between 10 and 20 minutes ahead of them. The temps were still comfortable, it was pretty shady, we were running pretty easy, but Amanda's IT band was starting to bother her. As we came around a corner we saw Megan heading toward us, that was sure a nice surprise. She ran us into AS#8 and worked on boosting our confidence by telling us how great we looked. We came into 8, saw Bill, fueled up and headed out, we were about 14 minutes ahead of cut-off here.
















AS#8 (22.3) to AS#13 (mile 33.6 and mile 38.6)
OK, so here I remember the stories from others, from this AS we climb steadily to AS#10 which is about half-way through the race at 26.9 miles. And then we're still only half way up Buck Mountain, we still have to climb to AS#11, this is where will hear the music long before we get to the AS. I frankly don't remember a heck of a lot from 8 to 10. I know we were psychologically happy to hit AS#10, get our drop bags, and see Megan and Bill, but I also remember starting to feel pretty hot and wishing for some clouds. From 10 to 11 the only incident of note was coming across three guys in their 20s trying to rally. One guy was doing really poorly and I gave him some ginger to try to settle his stomach. Come to think of it, somewhere in here my digestive system started to bother me. I think I took two tums at 10 and it settled down for a bit. We finally hit AS#11, Buck Mountain, I admit it did get you pretty pumped to hear Rocky and other motivating tunes as you approached that AS. We were 15 minutes ahead of cut-off here.


So after Buck Mountain we headed downhill to AS #12, saw our crew, and then continued on to AS#13 and the famous loop trail. MMTR is a point-to-point race with a loop thrown in at mile 33.6, so the "loop" is from mile 33.6 to 38.6, and then you continue north toward the finish at Montebello. When we entered the loop we were 20 minutes ahead of the cut-off, when we came out we were 12 minutes ahead, but physically and mentally we were both hurting. The loop starts off beautifully, nice wide easy trail, beautiful mountain laurel, FLAT, but that does all change. And my digestive system started to rumble, I took a nature break and told Amanda to continue on and I would catch up. Shortly after I caught back up, the trail started uphill through some serious rocks and roots, wow, finally some technical trail, just when I needed it 30+ miles into a 50++ race!! NOT!! We plodded along and I remember Amanda saying when are we going to get to something that's runnable, I know she was worried about us making it out of the loop under the cut-off. She had a Garmin on so had some sense of our progress. I didn't know and didn't ask what she had for mileage, I think I mumbled something like I could only do what I could do and that would be good enough or not. We finally stopped climbing and came across a guy sitting on a rock with his head in his arms. I asked if he was ok, if he needed anything. No response. Definitely not your typical friendly trail runner! We continued past then I felt a twinge of guilt and worry, what if there was something really wrong with him and I left him. I turned to look back and he had lifted his head up and was looking at us. At this point I decided he was just feeling like crap and didn't want anything from anyone, he just wanted to wallow. We went on. The trail started to descend but it was leafy and rocky and I could tell Amanda's IT was really hurting. As soon as we hit runnable stuff, I tried to rock and roll, I almost lost sight of Amanda behind me, now I knew her knee was bad. I ran into Bill Potts and then Megan coming out to check on the runner that wasn't feeling well. At long last we exited the loop, only 12 minutes ahead but still ahead!

AS#13 (mile 38.6) to AS#15 (mile 43)
We started downhill from 13 and Amanda's IT was bad, she was trying to hold off on taking more vitamin I. I had my own worries about my digestive system. Nothing about 13 to 14 stands out except we started to really cut it close on the cut-offs. We arrived at AS#14 only 4 minutes under! And then 14 to 15 really sucked. 14 to 15 was only a measly 1.5 miles but it was all climbing, out in the open, the sun beating down on me. Amanda was better on the uphills and I was dying. I had that old internal battle going, "I hope I don't make the cut-off and get pulled" versus "no way I'm getting pulled, if I make this one, I can at least finish, even if I'm not an official finisher under 12 hours." I tapped into all the positive vibes I knew friends and family were sending me. I vowed to finish no matter what. We finally reached AS#15 with just under 5 minutes to spare.

AS#15 (mile 43) to the finish
Next section was 4.1 miles, there's a cut-off at AS#16 (mile 47.1) but I was pretty sure they wouldn't pull anyone that was close here. This section has a couple of short, steep climbs to throw out at you just when you're ready to crack. We clawed our way up, I think I let a few folks pass here. It was starting to cool off and the light was fading in the woods, we heard a Barred Owl hooting in the distance. I tried to take this as a good omen that I'd finish. It finally leveled out and we knew we needed to run, then my digestive system kicked in again. I told Amanda to take off at this point, I wanted at least one of us to be an official finisher. She took off and I rejoined the fight after a nature break. I vowed not to eat anything else, I thought I'd throw up, and I was barely drinking anymore. I spotted 3 people coming behind me which surprised me, I thought I was the last person out there, I decided I'd do my best not to get caught. I ran and ran and finally hit AS#16.

I had about 49 minutes to cover the last 2.9 miles, which everyone says is closer to 3.5 or 4, and make it under 12 hours. The course is literally all downhill from here. As I left 16 I passed a guy I'd been flip flopping with and asked him if we'd make it, he said he was sure gonna try, I ran by. I literally ran almost every step of this last section, I kept reminding myself I need to take advantage of gravity. It was a somewhat rocky, leafy wide trail/road and I ran as fast as I felt able. It felt like forever! Then I saw Megan coming up the trail toward me. She said it had taken her 31 minutes to walk to this point and that I had 25 minutes to make it to the finish, which would be no problem since it was partly downhill and since I was running. I was not entirely convinced of this logic but bought in anyway. At long last we hit the "1 mile to go" painted on the road and I had 15 minutes, wow, I might actually do this! We hit pavement, made a left turn, then another left, Megan told me exactly where the finish was and then dropped off. I ran across the finish line in 11:57:11 and I was an official MMTR finisher!! I got my finisher shirt and I was going to get my LUS jacket!!

Amanda, Mark, Megan, Bill and I all exchanged hugs. Amanda finished in 11:45:56 and Mark finished in 11:52:45. Amanda was psyched I made it and had been bummed about having to leave me. Amanda and I vowed never to run another 50 miler. We heard about Mark's struggles with calf cramping. Then we got in the car for the hour drive back to the hotel.

Post-script
Damn was that hard! I'm glad it's over. No I'm not planning to do it again. Seems that 50k's are more my distance. Somehow when I go over about 9 hours my digestive system goes bad. I don't know if I'm doing something wrong or if my system can't handle it. But my plan is to stick with 40 miles or less (Highland Sky is still in and so is Maryland Challenge as Amanda and I qualified our vow to Bill later). Oh, and I still would like to try the Applachian Crossing.

And I had one other realization. I'm not actually a masochist, I don't derive pleasure from pain or suffering. I can tell you I was not deriving any pleasure for most of that run! I'm willing to endure pain and suffering to achieve a goal. When I achieve it, that's when I'm happy!

Thank you everyone for running many miles with me, as well as for your support and positive vibes, I couldn't have done it without you.

Here's the url to some more pictures.