It was a 33 mile loop three times. Somewhere close to 9000ft of climbing. A perfect mix of singletrack and gravel for a course that allowed you to find a rhythm and rock it for hours on end. The average pace on the course was extremely high. Every part of the course was blazing fast, except for the short steep climbs. Those climbs I mostly walked, thanks to some ridiculous cramps. The flat technical section of the course were, more an exercise in high speed weight shifting. The trees seemed almost perfectly placed to allow for high speed cruising with little to no braking. A little weight shift from side to side to get around the corners was all that was needed. My brain is scrambled. It was a perfect course for a 100 mile race. A better day on a course that was more fun, does not exist.

El Maya hooked us up with a cabin in the woods. A friend of a friend thing, the cabin was twenty minutes from the course and had a private two track to get to it that seemed like it took a half hour to navigate. Great lodging, a pre-race culinary demonstration by chef Tell, (a masterful creation of sardines, avocado, broccoli, pasta, and half a bottle of olive oil) and “the ole 96′er” had El Maya turning in early. We mixed bottles and deliberated on the finer points of endurance nutrition, while our hosts’ eyes glazed over. It was a terrible nights sleep, the loft style arrangement only amplified the snoring that went on all night. We invited Steve, my best riding buddy from Michigan, he brought Thomas, and Josh, a racer from The Motion Initiative. The Motion Initiative is a similar organization to Chicago’s West Town Bikes. They are based in Grand Rapids, Mi and they focus on getting kids who otherwise might not, to ride some trails and learn something new along the way.

In the first lap I decided to go with the lead group for as long as I could. That lasted about 1/4 lap. There’s 95 miles to go what am I doing trying to kill myself like this, so I dialed it back and settled into a rhythm.  Somewhere deep into the rhythm, on the first lap, Brandon Leach caught up to me. We then rode together for the next 30 miles, give or take a few. My first lap was feeling really good, until the first twinges of the cramps began to manifest in my legs. It was an ominous sign of things to come. For the next 70 miles I was to battle cramps that were not supposed to exist until mile 70. Halfway into the second lap, I bid Leach adieu and stopped at the aid station for a brief rest. The aide stations were magnificent, they had everything there short of a tv with the ball game on and an deep dish pizza washed down with a Goose Island IPA, truly and oasis in the sand. During my little break I realized the culprit for the cramps was the caffeine in my energy drink. So I dumped it and switched to the premixed HEED that the aide station supplied. The cramps would not end after that, but not to long after the switch they did begin to subside. Arrgghh…but the damage was done. I had lost a lot of time working out the cramps. My second lap was an exercise in pain. On the flat portions of the course I was able to generate a respectable amount of power. Especially on the long twisty singletrack mind benders. There were a couple of sections on the course of extended flat trail, no real rises, just twisting, flowing singletrack. On these sections, even with my legs falling apart, I was able to distance riders behind me. These flat sections of trail just seemed to last forever, they were a joyful monotony. Sometimes for miles on end, no real elevation gain or loss, then smash, right in the nuts. Here’s a 10 minute climb to bring you back to earth. Jedi mind tricks with must have been thousands of trees. Any of which could have grabbed my bar ends and flipped me into the weeds. The only tree I hit was on a downhill, I washed out on a corner and plowed my front wheel into a downed log. As I went through the pit area after the second lap, the feeling began to rise inside. I knew I was going to finish the race. And that was the most important thing for me. Not a specific time or pace, really, I just wanted to finish. A smile began to well up and I was feeling really good. Then I hit the first maj0r climb of the loop. Close to ten minutes of steady climbing, and then the crescendo, a steep pitch that was ridable on the first lap. Each subsequent lap it laughed at me. It bites you in the face, while your being kicked in the nuts. My smile didn’t fade it was dragged out into the woods kicked in the ribs and left there to find it’s own way home. The halfway aide station seemed to lurk in the distance for hours. I could not get there soon enough, to replenish my bottles and get a snack.

If the second lap was an exercise in pain, the third lap was a smiling haze of full on bonk, with a side order of leg seizures. Time off the bike per lap was climbing faster than I did on some of the climbs. As the lap wore on there were less riders on the course than before. At times it was genuinely lonely. But a little loneliness if far better than riders hunting you down and passing you seemingly effortlessly. The last pass of the day was on the last climb of the day. There was really nothing I could do about it, I saw him coming, tried and had no answer left in my weary body. His pass came at the very crest of the climb immediately following was an extended almost two track descent. He had only one gear, he knew he could only coast down the hill. AHHH!!! I had at least five more gears I could tear into, and I was stuck behind due to some rider traffic on the course. So I held on for the remaining two miles of the course, keeping him in sight. In the previous lap I had scouted out an unused line I could use to get to the finish line if it came down to a sprint. Yeah right, 100 mile mtb race sprint finish. Well, Mr. Onegear up front was pulling away and my chances were falling away. With no remaining options, I summoned all that was left. The line I scouted didn’t work, but jsut thinking in advance what I needed to do to prevail in this situation propelled me forward and I pulled ahead through in the last second for a large, minor victory.

I wanted one thing from the Lumberjack 100…

A patch.

The winners get an axe. The finishers get a patch. Admittedly, it’s not much, but I worked my ass off for that patch. And now I have this cool patch and no where to put it. I might just go out and buy a jean jacket so I have something to pin it on.

We received so much help from our supporters, Alicia, Nevada’s family, Thomas, and the volunteers, I felt like a child. They did everything for us at the pit stops. Unscrew the bottle, fill it with whatever you want. “What would you like to eat? Slim Jim, banana, gel?” They were so awesome, I could not have done it without them. The Bonebell tolls for those who helped us along the way. Your support allowed success in our endeavor, muchos gracias.