Day 2 Fruita/Grand Junction - Widow Maker, Holy Cross, The Ribbon, etc.

 

Fruita is an interesting little town with a few hotels, Mexican restaurants, gas stations, a couple of bike shops and that's more or less it.  Oh yeah, a dino museum that seemed interesting, but I didn't get the chance to check out.  RV sales dealerships (and some trailers just out in the middle of nowhere) dotted the side of the highway.  While there are beautiful houses built into ledges, there are more typically houses with old equipment and junk filling their yards.  Most people that we've met seemed very nice and staff in restaurants were particularly friendly.

Today we rejoined the crew from Leadville at the local bike shop and headed for the trails.  A detour finding the trailhead, but we arrived amidst lots of other riders prepping or re-packing their gear.  Outside of mtn bikers, there are lots of ATV, jeep, DH, and others in related sports.  Lots of big-tired trucks too.  The trailheads are basic parking areas, but with reasonable outhouse buildings.  The demographic that you run into is well – basically just like us.

The first part of the ride was a long technical climb.  People start off full of piss and vinegar but it eventually settles into a pace.  For the climb - basically you needle your front wheel around rocks of all shapes and sizes and keep churning up and around; lunging and spinning to keep moving forward.  The views are incredible with remnants of Lord knows what geological history, but it's always incredible and aplenty.  There are snow covered peaks in the distance, yet you're riding on mountains of rock and sand in a desert environment.  I refer to it as Wiley Coyote/Road Runner territory.  While riding, the pace was reasonable but fatiguing - though we were very appreciative of the trail knowledge that our riding companions had, there was one poor trooper in their group who wasn't at the same level.  So we stopped every few minutes to re-gather and wait for him.  Eventually he would come along on his borrowed bike, get the shortest break, and then bravely repeat the cycle.  Not quite sure what's been going on but I just haven't had any giddy-up.    I recognize that I'm not in the greatest shape and especially far from a cyclist physique this time of year, but fortunately there is still the underlying ability to just keep biking.  I picked a conservative spot in the group and just rode.  Admittedly, the continual stopping just killed me.  Every time I would finally get into a grove, we'd stop and wait.  Then you'd start up again and feel the load in your legs.  Anyway, gravel, rocks, moderate ups and steep downs.  Lots of fun.  We made it back to the parking and said farewell to our friends, loaded up the van and headed to do a downhill shuttle on The Ribbon.  It involved driving the bikes up to the top of a slickrock section, via a winding 8 mile of paved road.  We figured that we'd try our luck at sending a (non lyra clad) hitchhiker to get the van then rejoin us at the bottom.  But – the forecasted storm was moving in and it was getting late.  Sure enough we met a "dude", named Kyle in the parking lot.  We tore down a sloped field of slickrock looking for the trail markings.  You really have to be careful as when you are tearing down the hills, you may suddenly be made aware that you're on the edge of a rock overhang, possibly hundreds of feet up.  This realization suddenly made me a bit paranoid of a chain slip, pedal disengagement, branch hitting the bar, or whatever other freak incident which would send you barreling over the cliff.  Unsettling.  Anyway, probably an hour of zig-zagging down rocky descents and continual body English, we arrived at the lower parking – it was a hoot.  Kyle had graciously offered to take his awaiting girlfriend's car to return us to our van.  She stayed and chatted with us while we waiting.  Then it was diner in Grand Junction and we headed back to the motel.

Today I got some great helmet-cam video.  We only had a few hours of moving time but we were out there all day.  It is as tiring as actually moving all day (not as fun though).

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More content coming...

Days 2-4 are written but internet is down. Will post in the AM.

UM
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Fruita, Day 1

KFC sucks!

Staying at a basic motel in the small town of Fruita. Saturday we rode Shoots and Ladders, Zippity Do Da and related. It's narrow single track on rocky eroding ledges and mountains. Visualize the last place you'd want to hide in an old western movie - riders dotting the ridgeline. You feel atop the world as you keep your wheels centered in the fast ribbon of singletrack that seams along the spine of dirt and rock pertruding high up out of the canyon floor. Adreneline rushes as you crest a ridge, re-sight the trail and surge down steeply in and shoot back up. When you're not focused on the trail you see the plains with massive ridges pertruding. In the distance a panarama of mountains and rock landscape accross the apparent wasteland of sand, rock, tumbleweeds. Oh, and cattle. Lots of verticle with fast downhills and caught some great video. Met up with a group from Leadville who showed us the best routes. Meeting them again today to shuttle and ride in Grand Junction.

More later,

UM
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CTS Day 3 - Final Day...

Ok, now I'm rested, let's back track...

After crossing the finish line on Day 2, I found my duffle and tried to get into my bathing suit to wash the mud and blood off in the river.

Had to jimmy the ratchet open on my bike shoes with my survival knife, as my shoes (like everything else was packed with mud). Each attempt was met with a leg cramp, kind of like a scene in an action movie when the injured hero is struggling to get this gun on the ground - just out of reach as the villain is looking the other way.

Taking care of post-ride chamois hygiene was like trying to clean a crankcase with a Q-Tip.

Took extra time to wash the bike down with a hose, long bristled brush and soap, even removing the wheels to get in everywhere. When it dried, it still seemed dirty.

Lugging the duffle to our cabin (maybe 300m) was exhausting and I had to rest several times.

Dinner was nice (great food) and I sat with various others from Ottawa.

Later in the evening, Mike A. (another Ottawa racer) and I got a little fire going which we sat at in front of the cabins and chatted.

Mike and I knew of one another but had never really talked. Knowing that he was a well conditioned Ottawa athlete, I kind of had my sights on "giving him a run for his money" in the race, but it wasn't to be. Though I outweighed him by about 70lbs, it was not a course that would have favoured the light. Coming off an impressive IronMan performance a few weeks prior, he put in very solid days, bettering me by about 15 minutes per day. All would have's/could have's aside, I just didn't have the drive to make it happen.

Seems that most were in bed by 10:00 (or earlier). Funny how so many people that are just better than middle-of-the-pack feel the need to keep it all business.

The social aspect of this race was the most fun part for me and shooting the breeze over a campfire is more valued that trying to fall asleep in a cabin with a dozen other restless people.

The night was scattered with people fumbling through the squeaky door to take a leak outside. Then as the morning approached, it became very cold in the cabin. Though I had a toque only inches away, the hassle of fumbling with the light and bag seemed harder that curling up and trying to fall back asleep.

After the first unanswered morning alarm, I finally put on my toque and feel asleep. 7:23, I was up and heading to breakfast.

White Pines was a very nice camp and high-end from what I was told. Someone suggested that it would be about $3000 to send a kid there for a 2 week stay!

Like the other camp, common areas and the dinning hall were lined with crafts (carved plaques, clay masks, small paddles...) with the names and events of participants dating many years back. The exposed wooden beams in the buildings, rustic signs with cabin names, canoes stacked at the shore, and smell of pine - all flashed me back to the Beaver/Cub Scout camps that I'd attended as a child.

I remembered the helpful counsellors and experiences, though filled the gaps of my memory envisioning the plethora of challenges and emotions that a child would experience being away from mom and dad at such a camp. Putting your trust in competent staff could result in positive life experiences that would always remain with your child.

The people were nice overall, though some did take quite a while to warm up. From barely getting a grunt from riders on Day 1 to chatting along the course by the last day.

Most were courteous on the track, some didn't know better, and many were just too tired or focused to interact.

By Day 3 the slow leak in my rear tire (losing about 25 psi/day) seems to have sealed itself. Nonetheless I filled the 2.2 Fast Trak to 45 psi and headed to the start line. Today's race was to start with a 17km neutral police escort. It was cold! The peloton cruised along the pavement taking up an entire lane. While the pace seemed stop and go, it was likely completely due to the dynamics of group riding (one that stretched probably 500m) and not due to the pace car at the front. At one point the whole thing came to a stop for about 7 minutes while people ran into the bush to relieve themselves. Kind of ironic when police could fine you for that behaviour.

Once we arrived at the actual start, I lay down my bike in the starting gate and went to shed my arm and leg warmers at the drop.

Appropriately positioned in the gate, familiar faces were sprinkled throughout the crowd. Then off we went again.

First the doubletrack/fireroad climbed several loose sections, wheel-to-wheel with other riders. Struggle for traction and maintain your spot, then perch in the attack position navigating loose rocks and gravel for the descents. Positions shifted as riders tried to locate to their appropriate location.

Legs were tired, my right knee sore from a torquing the day before, but mostly I recognized my own defeatist attitude as we churned through the road under the hydro lines. 2 days of crappy terrain had taken their toll and I just couldn't muster up the incentive to push it - but I would try. Everyone is tired, we all have sore legs and don't expect to be a competitive racer if you don't train like one - you p*ssy!!

Ahead was the second place female who I'd finished a few minutes ahead of on day one. Seeing that I could close the gap on the climbs (?? I know it doesn't make sense), I'd told myself that I could stay with her. Recognizing that she had many years of racing experience all across Canada (now on a road team) the idea of the mental fortitude that it would take to complete this task over the next - possibly 4 hours would be tough.

Fireroad turned to ATV trails, the odd bog but mostly dry - wow!! As the day went on, I began to snap out of it and realize - these are good trails. Too bad that I was so fatigued. Hold it steady, push when you can and you will end up where you should. Enjoy yourself Mike! At one point about half way in I heard a voice behind and saw 2 riders on the road a couple of hundred meters back - I yelled "Hey guys" thinking that it was Stew and Dan. Turns out that it wasn't.

So the day continued with snowmobile trails and eventually hilly singletrack. The terrain was challenging and included several hike-a-bike climbs up rooty ridges, but was then followed with flow similar to what we ride in Gatineau. Knowing the "12km remaining" info from a volunteer at the last feed station was probably 21km or so in reality (it is inevitable, but a major annoyance to get misinformation from well-meaning volunteers) I talked to myself picturing giving a pre-race briefing to the volunteers, "... now remember, if you aren't certain of something, keep quiet!)

Though I ground up more ascents in granny than most, I readily surrendered to walking others.

Wow, some of those singlespeed riders are strong!!!

Finally a fellow rider confirmed that we had about 2 km left. At least 2 km of singletrack. My pace quickened and we passed several riders who seemed surprised at being passed at this point of the race. Finally the "1km to go" sign, I was not going to be overtaken.

As I closed in on the rider who'd passed about 2 km prior, I let him know that I wouldn't sprint by him. As I pulled up beside him at the finish, we high-fived and I ensured that his wheel crossed first (he was in the over 40 class anyway).

Wash the bike, grab a sandwich and coke, get changed.

A band, "The Speakeasies" played some good music but most of the racers were busy chatting about the day and shovelling in the chicken and ribs that were provided at the outdoor BBQ. The warm sun shined on our backs and sore muscles as we reminisced the last 72 hours.

Worth mentioning; the food during this adventure was wonderful - from basic sandwiches post race to a wide selection at the evening buffets. Trying to get coffee was a pain though...

Before loading on the bus, I got a picture with Chico, congratulating him on a very well organized event and stating that the last day made up for quite a bit.

We loaded on the bus and headed back to the original start line.

Thank God - we're done!

UM

NEXT POST - LOOKING BACK - changed perspectives???

I'll add some more content a little later, but this should satisfy the many "Where's Day 3?!" emails that I've received in the last 24 hours.

CTS DAY 2 - HELL!

They said that there was one bog at the course description meeting last night.

Looking back at least 50km of the 83 was bog. Imagine hike a biking through knee deep sloop only to get on your bike and ride 100m to the next section - for hours. It is definately one of the worst race days that I have ever experienced.
At about the quarter point I said screw this and dropped out of race mode - I was angry so decided that competition didn't matter, instead I would drop it down and try to enjoy it. As the day progressed I had completely lost all mojo and was just going through the paces - pissed off the whole time. I kind of hoped that Stew and Dan would catch me so at least I would have some company.

Thoughts of abandoning a day early and try to orchestrate a way to join my wife and riding buddies in Kingdom Trails ran through my head.

Sometimes you'd charge at a bog, maybe making it through or possibly ejecting over the bars. Typically you have to drag you bike beside you as you trudge along the edge.
Given the mud you'd think that they would have trimmed some of the branches - nope. In fact I have seen no signs of trail work whatsoever.

We were also told that the race would end with 20 km of railroad bed.
I yearned for it! It started with 5-10 km of gravel road and the the railway. Unfortunately it was all loose gravel and sand. I did the whole 19km solo and opted to empty the tank - counting down the kms and increasing the pace progressively until a hammer finish.

Everything about this race organization (with the exception of a few details) has been very good, but thus far the course has been absolute shit!

At this point my suggestion for next year would be for the course designer to make the sandwiches and recruit ANYBODY to route a proper trail. So it was a wet season - was this a sudden thing???

I totally applaud Chico for hosting the event but with so many other options the route has got to be better than this.

My cabinmates are nice, the food is good, there's free beer, very helpful volunteers, decent facilities...

Unless it is a very dry season next year there is no way I would consider coming back.

So, the race ended I cleaned up in the cold river (enjoyed it) and tried to get rid of the mud that was packed into every oriface. It took a very long time to clean the bike and I even had to replace all brakes pads which were worn down right to the metal. Apparently the shops are now out of pads and riders' future is uncertain for tomorrow.

Shifting isn't right but I'm used to not having all gears now.

Just saw Stew and Dan - apparently Stew snapped 5 chains and Dan 1! Stew also had me in his sights but they got held back with that. Probably a good thing as I was in no mood to tinker on someone else's bike.

So, now settled back at the camp, things are great. Also time for dinner and all grab a couple of beer.

Thanks for reading, sorry about the bitching (remember it's only the course that's bad), and I hope to write a cheerier story tomorrow.

Uncle Mike

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CTS Day 1

It started as a cool day, having had breakfast and prep at Ken's then making our way to the start line.

Final tuning at the truck then off to the prerace meeting. Today mud was expected along with quite a bit of dirt road.

A manual sign-in then stand at the starting gate awaiting the gun. The usual inconsiderations as people feel they need to be up towards the front, whether or not their abilities merit it.

To my right I see Tanya from BCBR, (she recently won Hot August Nights with 17 laps!). A friendly hello then we're off. A measured pace as the group was bundled together heading towards singletrack. Admittedly a little annoyed as some of the people who pushed to the front demonstrate their technical incompetence on easy obstacles, spreading the group out further from the front. One of these resulted in a chain jam which sidelined me as 6-10 people went by.
I quickly repassed most and had a great time swooping through winding singletrack. Didn't feel like a big effort but my heartrate was unusually high.

Fast and swirling singletrack, hardpacked, crossed with roots and burmed with natural rock out croppings - sweet. At this point I tried to flow as much as possible while maintained a steady pace.

Then out into the open road. The pace was in the mid thirties and people jotted in and out of formation like hornets at a picnic. Were they all triathletes or what. Suggestions of working together turned into breakaways, and with a pace that
Pushed high into the thirties - too fast. I resolved to let them go.

Unfortunately this left me to fend for myself, pushing wind most of the road sections - there were quite a few.

For much of the balance of the day we were on ATV trails - with continual muddy bogs that you usually had to hike-a-bike through.
At first it was fine but after hours - not so fun anymore.
Familiar faces in the field. Trish Spooner (I think) caught me as I trudged through one section. Don't remember seeing her since Mike Cadwell's offroad tri (which I mentioned) but like most people that I recognize, they have no idea of who I am. Not sure of where Stew or Dan or others were relative to me in the field. Kind of expected to come accross them, but it never happened. At this point I caught most of the peloton from the beginning (wonder how many more calories that cost me), then pasted Trish on a hill and went solid to the end. 2 riders saw me coming up on them and upp'ed the pace. I reached them and did a final sprint finish with one of them, nudging him out at the line.
Not sure where I finished as far as placement but a solid, yet reasonable effort. Didn't see Stew at the finish but grabbed some food and rode the 4km (was actually over 6...) to the camp. Oh yeah, forgot to mention that the mud threw off my shifting limiting my gear selection for most of the race. Tried to tune it to no avail and even had to unjam the chain from my spokes half a dozen times.

At the camp I pressure washed the bike and made it to the central area. Subway subs awited along with refreshments. I dreaded the walk to the cabin as I heard the guy in front of me get instructions, "...go down this path until you see the shed, turn right and continue to the fork, go over the hill and it's the third cabin on the left...".
"Where is Sunrise?", I asked. "Right there" as he pointed to a cabin 50 feet away - yes! A nice shower, organized gear in our lighted and heated cabin, then enjoyed another sub, free beer, and chatting with a similar level of rider as I typed my blog overlooking the lake. Had a swim too.

So off to dinner and to enjoy the rest of the evening. Will take tomorrow as it comes.

Thanks for reading.

Mike

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Crank The Shield - Day 0

So here we are in Bracebridge Ontario, the night before the first CTS. It's a 3 day mountain bike stage race starting in Buckwallow and ending in Haliburton. Where the hell we are in proximity to anything else, I have no idea. Somewhere near the Moskoka's (Toronto cottage country). Due to a scheduling conflict my wife and much of our riding group are spending the weekend at a B and B in Vermont in trail heaven; great riding, nice dining and relaxation. Meanwhile I'll race with strangers for 6 hours a day and sleep in a unheated bunkhouse with a dozen other farting guys.
Originally I secretedly signed up to race with my buddy Iain, on his singlespeed. When he pulled out due to their pregancy, I revealed that I'd entered. Fortunately Stew (of BCBR) recruited his friend Dan to enter. We loaded up the Xterra (just like the brochure with 3 mtbs on the roof) and drove up together. A 6 hour drive (with construction) but scenic and I just turned where told to, so no thinking involved. They'll be racing as a team while I entered solo.
Tonight we're staying a their friend's, (Ken's) place, who were nice enough provide us with comfortable accomadations. We met his lovely family and started organizing our gear. Somewhat uncertain as to what to fit into the one bag as the temperature could vary 20 degrees during the day.

Prep and goals...
Wasn't motivated to train so I spent the summer riding for fun then took a few days break to prepare. Will likely show in the results but I'm mostly interested in enjoying the ride, not on a top performance. Actually not nervous at all about the event which is kind of nice. Looking forward to ride same new trails, meet some new people and have a new experience on my bike.

When I return to the office on Monday I will have experienced something on the weekend that will last a lifetime.

Thanks for reading, please post your comments and I hope that you enjoy the posts.

Race starts at 10:00, so up at 7:00 and away we go!!!

Uncle Mike


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