I won the lottery last year for entry into the 2009
Leadville Trail 100-Mile Mountain Bike race - one of mountain biking's oldest
and most prestigious events. Couple that with the fact that Lance Armstrong
would be there trying to redeem his previous year's second-place finish, and
you've got some serious hype.
This is my recollection as one of three Greenville residents
who
attempted to complete this grueling race.
It was 39 degrees and rainy on race morning, but that didn't
stop 1,400 people from crowding the streets in anticipation of the shotgun
start. Leadville is a small Colorado mining town which sits at 10,200-feet and,
with helicopters flying overhead and loud speakers announcing Lance's arrival
at the start line, my heart rate was highly elevated too. Shotgun fires and
we're off.
The 3,000 knobby tires on wet pavement were almost
deafening. It was hard to settle in until around mile fifteen or so due to all
the people jockeying for good position. Do the math: give 1,400 riders less
than a mile to stretch out, then funnel them down to a one-lane dirt road, and
you've got one huge bottleneck. Less than twenty minutes into the race and I
found myself walking up the first big climb. Too many people and too little
space to "grunt" a single-speed up the climb.
The rain was light for most of the morning, however once I
reached the top of St. Kevin's - the race's first major climb - a soaking rain
started and continued for the next two hours. I was drenched but in good
spirits as I dropped off the back side of St. Kevin's to the local Fish
Hatchery. From there you begin another climb which ultimately dumps you onto
the infamous Powerline trail. Somewhere on this climb the rain stopped.
Powerline is known as the 'sketchiest' descent in the race due to biker traffic
and huge wash-outs.
At Twin Lakes Dam - where thousands of people set up to help
aid their riders passing through - I hit the checkpoint at 3:47 into the race.
Based on the splits from previous year's riders for a 10:30 and 11:00 hour
finish time, I was way off pace. After this, I kept my aid station visits brief
in hopes of making the 12-hour cutoff.
Looming over you all day is the Columbine Mine climb.
Sitting at 12,600-feet, it is by far the highest point in the race, as well as
the half way fifty-mile turnaround. Shortly into the climb and a dirt bike with
a camera man on the back blazed by with Armstrong tucked in behind. He was
absolutely FLYING. Like him or not, it's pretty cool to say I've "raced" with
him and seen the intensity on his face up close. That rush was short lived...back to the grind.
Passing the race leader means the beginning of two-way
traffic, so for the next two hours you have to stay on the right side of the
road. Up until roughly half way up Columbine I was a little short of breath but
feeling good. Then I broke the tree line.
The tree line is approx. 11,500 feet, so the air is very,
very thin. Even if I could have caught my breath I couldn't have ridden it. As
far as I could see, ahead and behind me, were people pushing their bikes. I
reached the summit at 6:15 into the race. Not good.
Everything I'd read said the last half of the race is the
most difficult and, unfortunately, I find this to be very true. While in a
35-mph wind at 40 degrees, I question even continuing.
I realize that I'll only make the cut-off time if I start
taking some risks, open it up and let'r rip with fingers crossed that I don't
wreck or flat. I was nervous, but flying down the three-thousand-foot descent
was the most exhilarating part of the race.
Back across the prairie I reach the Powerline climb at 8:55
into the race. One hour, fifteen minutes, 2,400 feet and 2.2 miles later, I
summit Powerline. There is no time to waste, regardless if I'm seeing double or
spitting up a little blood... no time. It's amazing how adrenaline can help you.
I had to pedal faster, this simple game helped fuel pure adrenaline for the
remainder of the race. Once again I hung it out on several descents, taking
chances I normally wouldn't, while definitely not making any friends during
several passing attempts. The last fifteen miles was pretty much a gradual
downhill, then I reached the "Boulevard" - the final two-mile climb. It pales
in comparison to earlier climbs but, at this point, it's gigantic.
I was exhausted, cold and not exactly sure how much further
I had - my cyclometer stopped for a period of time. Standing, trying to muster
as much speed out of my heavy legs, I crest the last hill to see the finish
less than a mile away. I crossed the line at 11:56:28. I'd made it... on a
single-speed. The absolute hardest day of my life... period.
I've done 12-hour bike races, even an Ironman, but nothing
compares to the pain of that race at that altitude.
Leadville is truly a special event, and my experience there
was amazing. I was glad to be a part of it, and glad to have carved my name in
the hills as a singlespeed finisher.
