Rockwell Relay 2016, Part IV

LEG 3

The thing I remembered about Leg 3 from last time we did Rockwell was that it seemed like a fairly flat, and even slightly downhill for 56 miles, ending with a little kicker just after crossing the Colorado River to get the rider into the transition point. Mike killed it last time, and I knew he would be just as ready to do the same this time around. The problem was I trying to stay in front of the guy that did so well last time on this leg, and I was starting out on my own.

That said, I was out of the gates trying to hold off Mike for as long as I could.

(When you have no idea where you stand, or anyone else in the race for that matter, you just have to put your head down and push on. You become the only motivation for yourself. Just keep pushing!!!)

It would be some time before I would see my support team, or anyone in fact. Finally when the team showed up, I had one main request.

"Hey, I want time splits. Pull ahead and see how much time passes between me crossing the car, and then for Mike to do it. Then catch up to me and let me know."

(Mike in pursuit!)

Luckily, I don't recall seeing Team 2's support car for about the first half of the leg. This gave me hope that I would at least make Mike work for it. What's more, I saw another team's support vehicle time and again. I figured they were doing time splits on me, and figured they were between Mike and myself. I thought maybe I would have some help so long as they didn't blow by me when they caught up.

But the weirdest thing happened, I never saw their riders. In fact, when I got the time reports from my team, Mike was staying about 10 minutes or so back. They did tell me he had a bike problem. His bike was having issues shifting gears, so Team 2 rushed ahead and got Bob's 2nd bike ready. (Yes Bob is so high maintenance he brought a back up, j/k Bob.) Here, it was perfect, especially as he and Mike used the same clip ins. While I knew this would give me a couple minutes for them to transition, I wasn't sure it was enough.

(Mike switching bikes.)

But it was! The good and bad of it was I did the entire leg as a solo time trial. I didn't get the chance to work with anyone, but I did hold off Team 2 to give Darin a little head start.

(Crossing the Colorado River!)

I finished Leg 2 in 2:42, and we ended twelve minutes ahead of Team 2. Mike had actually passed four riders during his ride, and had put Team 2 into the 8th spot 3 legs in! (And we were now just in front in 7th!) I had added five more minutes on our lead, which I know half of was due to the bike change. Still, I will take joy in my small victory as Mike usually kills me on rides, so I was happy him and I finished realistically within a minute or two of each other.

Shortly after Darin left for our team (and I was still trying to be able to walk upright as my sides were killing me) Mike came in and Kevin was starting the fun climb that starts Leg 4.

(Mike coming in, and Bob probably yelling something along the lines of, "How's my bike!?")

LEG 4

By now, it's just about 4:00 pm, and into the 90's temperature wise. Darin and Kevin are welcomed into Rockwell's race with a short but steep climb. Having been warned, they both seem to not push it too hard out the gates and appear to tackle the early wall with much more ease than I remember it from when I did it last.

(Darin showing the climb who's boss!)

(Welcome to your first cycling event Kevin!)

Darin and Kevin were over the first climb and quick descent, and were on to the 20 mile slight but steady climb that ended about 26 miles or so into their 45 mile leg. Both were doing great, and in good spirits as the temperature got up to triple digits.

Bob, in the meantime, was making use of some of the cooling off supplies to provide entertainment as we sagged for our guys.

(Oh this...this is just the tip of the iceberg that is Bob Crockett. "Ugh hey, take my picture.")

Just before the top of the climb Kevin caught up to Darin. And, as it goes, the fun began. Not only did they have a slight to moderate downhill ride into Hanksville. This year they were treated with a tailwind!

(Just another chance to enjoy the scenery.)

(That close to the rock, but no shade to hide behind.)

Maybe the most amazing part of the race as we reached Hanksville was that while our teams had done very little actual riding together, Darin and Kevin were only separated by just over two minutes as they each came in. Both had smiles probably bigger than when they started.

Now, for us the question was how Rich and Matt would do on Leg 5. This leg would put it to our best rider in our previous race. Would these guys have any better luck? Would the winds pick up and fight as much as the mountains as they pushed to Torrey?...to be continued...

Rockwell Relay 2016, Part III

(Growing up and visiting grandparents close by, I always look forward to seeing the horse head in the mountain, as he is looking straight at you. Can you see it?)

THE WONDER

Guys are coming in, and you don't see your man. You figure they passed him, so you start asking, "Have you seen our guy?"

"Yeah, he's coming, just back a bit."

Good. He wasn't dead. And he was still moving. A few minutes more passed, and from over the bump in the road Rich appeared.

(The body tells the tale.)

He came in riding at decent clip, but you could tell the ride had taken its toll. Darin was quick to switch the timing chip onto Paul, and Paul raced off.

"How's it going?" I asked.

"Man, I've NEVER had cramps like that before!" Rich replied.

Turns out Rich started up the climb with a group of guys, and was going strong. Then, as it often does, your legs express their frustration in loud, painful shrieks of agony that they've had it. A guy came up to Rich and congratulated him on such a strong ride. He mentioned how he was almost startled with the volume in which Rich yelled out when the first sudden cramp made its appearance.

"I knew that wasn't good," the guy stated.

With all that said, our team was actually the 7th in of the teams that started at the 7:00 am start time. Rich's legs were sure to point out that he didn't leave anything out there, he had put it all on the line. About 18 minutes later Matt finished the 54 mile Leg 1, and Bob took up the race for Team 2.

(Matt giving Bob the high five exchange while Mike moved the time chip to Bob's ankle.)

LEG 2

Now, this much we knew and had planned for. Rich would push it and likely put a little time into Matt on Leg 1. With that in mind, Bob and Paul switched teams at the last minute as Bob had done the most training leading up to Rockwell and was riding very strong. We knew he would be able to eat into any deficit that his team might have, and because Bob has trained his mind to completely tune out his body when it screams for rest and relief, he could possibly blow the whole race wide open. (That stated, on a race like this, we knew any number of issues related to riders getting sick or tired, getting a flat or having any other mechanical problems, could greatly change the outcome for either team, and would dash all hopes of the teams staying together.) We wanted to stay together, but were not at the point that we were going to wait for one another. The way the teams were stacked, we figured each team needed to ride their own race.

The question became, just how much time would Bob pull back? 10 minutes? All of it? More? After sticking around waiting for Team 2, we loaded up and sought out for Paul. He had been riding for about half an hour and the day was quickly warming up.

(Here was Paul, pluggin' away)

We caught up to Paul, and he was doing great, being about 7 or 8 miles into the 45 mile leg. Off on his own, he was riding strong and steady, starting to feel the heat of the day.

Here, I must point out, I did NOT want Bob to catch Paul. While it would have been nice to have a carrot to chase if Mike was out on Leg 3 a few minutes before me, I knew that he would be hard to catch, and I wanted to give Darin a head start on Leg 4 as he had a steep climb right out of the gate that I had built up in his mind to be like climbing out of the Grand Canyon.

So we encouraged Paul along the ride. He simply kept smiling and kept pedaling. Bob was pushing to catch Paul and was continually eating away at our lead.

(Paul coming through a cut out in the mountain 37 miles into his leg.)

(Bob on the hunt for Paul!)

(The descent before the final climb.)

By the time Bob reached the cut in the mountain (see Paul's pictures above), Paul had done his final descent and started the final six mile climb up to the transition point (a Category 2 climb). The lead had been reduced to about 10 minutes. We checked with Paul about a mile into the climb, again changing out bottles and hurried up so I could get ready to finally be riding. At this point I figured Paul should get to the transition point before Bob, but I still wasn't sure just how far back Bob would be.

(Bob shaving time on the final climb!)

 About 40 minutes after Paul started the climb, he reached the transition and I took off.

(Looking back to see if I Bob was in sight. Also, looking out for cars. I'm such a safe rider.)

Paul was in and I was off. I was glad to finally be riding, but was dying to know just how much of a start I would have on Mike. He is competitive, and I am sure Bob if no one else would be egging him on.

Now, I was HIS carrot to chase. But by how much!?

???...to be continued...

Rockwell Relay 2016, Part II

THE PLAN

As noted in an earlier installment, the hope was that we could match up the two teams we had with guys that were close enough in ability that they could ride together. Last time we did the race our team did most of the ride as solo time trialists. In a long, often windy race, this can be very taxing and greatly slow your efforts. We figured if each rider had someone to work with this would not only help them to fight the elements, but hopefully also provide additional encouragement as they could push (or actually pull) each other along.

THE REALITY

While that was the plan, we recognized that none of our teamed up riders would match up perfectly well, so we set up the teams in hopes that we would at least remain close to one another in the event the riders could work together and thus shave some time off their efforts. Also, we figured this would help us to avoid having a team lose track of where their rider was like last time.

TIME TO GET GOING - LEG 1

Friday morning we were up and at 'em. Rich was there with family in tote (so supportive of them to watch him leave from Moab...wait, I think they missed him leaving...I forget...anyways, good for them for coming to Moab.)

Matt and Rich had suited up in some of Alpine's latest threads, and were amped and ready to go.

(Showing off the kit, putting out the vibe.)

(Matt double checking things.)

(Rich and Matt starting at the back to size up the competition. Rich looks like he's just trying to stay on two wheels, but I'll give him benefit of the doubt and recall that he was just landing a wheelie across the start line.)

With the 20+ teams heading out together at the 7:00 am start Rich and Matt knew they had the best opportunity to not only work together, but also work with other teams to get them through the rolling hills, wind, and climbs that are found between Moan and Monticello.

With that said, things started out well. Matt and Rich were in sync, and riding together and with other teams. However, not too far into the leg, and group of guys came around the two of them and Rich yelled out to Matt that they should push it and grab on to this group. Rich made the push and caught the tail, but Matt couldn't make the gap.

(Nothing like sitting down to a relaxing breakfast while guys are out there pushing their limits.)

Already, the teams were separated, though not far. Both had found people to work with (at some point Rich's group whittled down to him and another one or two guys) and both were pushing hard to get to the transition point.

(Rich rocking it.)

(Matt on the chase!)

With the final climb in front of them, Rich had about a 12-14 minute lead on Matt. Rich was pushing hard and only about the third guy off the lead. We loaded him up with fresh bottles for the last 10-12 miles and rushed into Monticello to get Paul ready at the transition.

We pulled up, got out, and Paul got changed. We knew the climb would take a bit of time but it wasn't long before the first guy came in. He was followed shortly thereafter by a group of three or four guys. Surely, Rich would be with them. But he was nowhere to be found. He had been right towards the front last we saw him. Minutes past, nothing. Then ANOTHER guy came in! Suddenly, flashbacks to Andrew's ride came creeping back in. Had something happened to Rich? Did he hit his wall? Did he hit a wall!? Did he have a mechanical issue? Should we go back and get him!?

RICH!!!...to be continued...

Rockwell Relay 2016, Part I

Time for me to get started on my write-up...before I forget all the fun that was the training leading up to, and the actual race of Rockwell Relay 2016!

TWO TEAMS FROM THE SCV!

So, last year I took it off from the Rockwell Relay (RR, Rockwell, da Race...) as we just had our 4th child. However, with mounting pressure from a few people, I figured I'd get something organized, and we were able to gather enough guys to fill two teams from the Santa Clarita Valley.

THE PLAYERS

While we weren't sure exactly where guys would fit in (we didn't even all know each other), we had a pretty good idea. In fact, there was really only one leg change between two guys from what we originally guessed to when we rode, so most guys were able to plan out well in advance what their legs would be like. With that said, I'll give a quick bio for each rider...

Team Name - Alpine Apparel 1:

Rider 1 - Rich (36) - Rich is a fire fighter. Two things made this pretty apparent. First, the guy's all swoll up as he gets paid to work out. (Due to this fact alone, we knew he would have the most time to prepare. He is fast, has ridden mountain bikes and dirt bikes since childhood, and though kind of new to the road bike, is a beast. Rider 1 was an easy choice.) Second, the guy shows up to our first team meeting looking like the Assos guy, walking in only in his bib shorts. We all joked that he was ready for his fireman calendar shoot.

Rider 2 - Paul (mid 50's) - Paul is an engineer, and was the last guy to join to round out our two teams. To be honest, I was the most weary about Paul joining the group as I did not know him at all. I was told that he rode, but I didn't know how often or how much. I wasn't sure if he'd be ready for something like Rockwell. (I know that overall we were a bunch of weekend warriors trying to pretend we know how to ride, so it wasn't like we were going to be setting any records, but I really just didn't want to be a team that had to drop out because our riders weren't prepared to ride strong, or at least take on three legs of pain.)

All that said, after my first ride with Paul, I was able to conclude that with his riding pedigree he understood what he was getting into, and that he is about as nice of a guy as you can find. Seriously.

Rider 3 - me (36) - Nothing to report here on myself other than I just hoped to be in better riding shape than last time. And also, to not get sick like last time.

Rider 4 - Darin (low 40's) - Darin has one of those cush 'I work for the city' jobs (just kidding Darin), and is one of the guys that first got me into riding. While he worries his size slows him down on the climbs, he can really put it to me on the flats and the descents. My favorite line from Darin when we started riding together and he would be coasting while I was pedaling feverishly to keep up on a descent, "It's a blessing and a curse." Leading up to Rockwell Darin worried more about how he'd do than anyone of the rest of us that had done it did. He put in the time, and was ready to go.

(Me, Darin, Paul, Rich)

Team Name - Alpine Apparel 2:

Rider 1 - Matt (29) - Matt is a sales rep for a pharmaceutical sales company, I think. Pretty much he pushes drugs for a living. This is great. Matt is great. May being 29, the youngest, is also great. Matt also being able to train very little and still climb as good as just about all of us...yup, you guessed it, great. What was not so great was Matt informing us on the last real ride before we left for Rockwell that while he repped a drug for those with hemophilia, he also had hemophilia. This meant that his blood had issues clotting, and oh by the way we are just doing a race in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night, and if anything happened (he slipped, tripped, fell, simply got a nose bleed, or possibly looked at a mosquito wrong), maybe would bleed out on us. No big deal. I am sure it wasn't that big of a deal, but when the guy starts with 'I should probably tell you this before we are actually racing at Rockwell...' it does make you pause for a minute and wonder, 'Should he be doing this?'

Rider 2 - Bob (61) - What to say about Bob? Bob was probably the best part of last year's ride. He filled in with a few days notice, he was so sure of his diet while riding only to completely change it 20 minutes into his first leg, he didn't know anything about the course, his legs, ANYTHING! He was the guy that half way through the race last time said, 'Oh, we finish in St. George?' And of everyone, he seemed to be enjoying himself during the race most. Bob is crazy!

That said, Bob entered the race this year very motivated. He trained harder than anyone trained. He bought three bikes in the past year leading up to the ride! (Bob does his research, apparently, with OJT. He would find out for himself what would work best for him.) Bob was amped to tackle the climbs he had in front of him, and improve on his previous times.

Rider 3 - Mike (33) - Mike was also one of the guys that did this race back in 2014 with Bob and myself. And like Bob, Mike would be tackling the same legs as before. Having done it before (and done very well) Mike felt more comfortable leading up to the race. This also showed in his preparation. Like last time Mike didn't spend much time on the bike, but built up his health and stamina with running. Had it been anyone else I might have been worried. That said, I knew in the first, and one of the few, rides we did leading up to Rockwell he would be fine as I had to fight to keep up with him.

Rider 4 - Kevin (56) - This year Kevin was the guinea pig to all things cycling/ cycling events related. Recently retired, Kevin just picked up cycling about 10 months before the race as something to do besides playing tennis. Apparently he was tired of beating everyone he played and wanted to conquer something else. It wasn't long after Kevin got his first road bike, and we could see how quick he was picking it up, that Bob, Mike, Rich, pretty much everyone else, started to peer pressure Kevin into joining us for Rockwell. And, being the overly trusting friend that he was as I'm sure he figured we wouldn't ask too much from him as a newbie to the sport, he was a kind enough to accept the challenge. Man, did he have us all wrong. We weren't looking out for him, we were looking out for us! We wanted to complete the teams and go have fun!

(Team 2 - Mike, Bob, Kevin, Matt)

ENOUGH ABOUT US...

With the teams sorted out, we headed to Moab, got checked in, and were as ready as we were going to be for the race!

OH WAIT, COUPLE OTHER NOTES

I couldn't end this write up and start into the race without talking about the trip itself. Part of doing anything like this, is the fact that this turns into a road trip with a bunch of guys. We drove the Wednesday night before up to Hurricane, stopping in Las Vegas for some incredible sushi. And on Thursday we were sure to stop in Richfield, UT at this amazing dairy for lunch. I hadn't spent much time with Kevin before our trip, but he was like a kid on his first day of summer break after school had just got out when we were traveling. He was laughing, and enjoying the food so much, as he stated, the trip was a success before we ever got into the race.

This was good. I was relieved that he was having a good time. I wasn't so sure he would be feeling the same way 24 hours later...

(At the Ideal Dairy in Richfield)

(Hanging out on a bridge over the Colorado River, just before we went to check in.)

(Prepping the cars before the race.)

(Both teams from the SCV!)

...to be continued...

Cycling From France!

Alright, I'm not actually in France. But I kinda am.

(Pic from a photo shoot we did.)

See, we started this apparel company a year ago, and it's getting noticed here and there. Sure, it's not HUGE, but it's growing. And it's being seen around the world. (Gotta love Instagram, Facebook, pretty much the internet as a whole.)

Recently, we had a freelance write reach out to us about doing an article for her website. Getting this interest from anywhere is pretty cool. Getting the request from someone on the other side of the world is AWESOME!

That said, check out her site, and read up on her article about Alpine Apparel!

What may be the best part about it, was at first she thought my name was Ewan, and not Evan. Needless to say it got plenty of play amongst friends, and now has given me a name for an alter ego should I ever need one.

Oh, and be sure to check out the company's site: alpine.cc

Thanks!

2015 El Tour de Tucson (aka My Personal 100 Miles of Nowhere)

Okay, it has been way too long since I have written anything, and I see that I have several drafts started from various events since Rockwell, but I need to get this write-up done for multiple reasons. Mainly, I just enjoy having something to look back on to help spur me to sign up for more things, and thus keep me seated on my bike. And I have a place to look back at all the pictures taken along the way.

BACKGROUND TO 100 MILES OF NOWHERE

As I started getting into cycling about three years ago I came across a blog by Eldon Nelson aka "Fatty", of such fame of fatcyclist.com. Besides time to pen (or I guess type) his race write-ups, he has always pushed various charities of which he was very passionate about. One of these that he started is the 100 Miles of Nowhere. This is more of an event that he turned into a way to help get people motivated to ride and at the same time benefit Camp Kesem, which are "camps across the U.S. that are dedicated to giving kids affected by a parent's cancer a week of carefree fun, at no cost to them."

I had not, up to this point, contributed to any of Eldon's fundraisers but thought this would be a good excuse to get started, as 1) I supported the cause, and 2) hoped that riding 100 miles of "nowhere" would help be my final prep for El Tour de Tucson. That said, I signed up.

(Sweet gear for my glorious ride!)

THE NEED FOR A CHANGE IN MY "NOWHERE"

Sadly, I am busy, and between a job, 4 little kids at home (youngest just a few months old), a kitchen disaster that left us with absolutely no kitchen for 4 months and pretty much wrecked the rest of the house in so doing, and well...my innate ability to come up with lots of excuses...I realized that I was not only not prepared to ride the 100 miles on some small loop on the official date of the event, but I also didn't have the time. In fact, the only 100 mile ride I would be doing between November and the end of the year would be El Tour de Tucson itself.

Now, the "nowhere" is usually supposed to be just that, nowhere. Oft times people would be doing this ride at home, on rollers or some other sort of trainer, or even a small loop that found that they could do over and over. (Serious mental toughness required, esp. for someone as inexperienced as I am.Needless to say, I was happy to use an alternative venue.) However, with Tucson in site, I began to think of how this was my "nowhere." Tucson was where I was born, so I was going back to where it all started for me. Had someone seen me when I was born, and then again here at the race, they might have thought that I had in fact gone nowhere in my life. I was still doing a loop, finishing where I would begin from, so still at the end of my race I still would have gone nowhere. And, though I can appreciate the environment wherein Tucson resides, many people usually not from the area look around upon arrival and think they are in the middle of nowhere! So, by my racing here, I would have appeared to have gone nowhere from the beginning of my life, finished my ride in the same place I started thus ending up having not progressed anywhere, and done it all in the middle of nowhere. Perfect! Tucson would be my nowhere!

EL TOUR DE TUCSON

I must also admit, this looked to be a fun ride. I had only ridden 100 miles in a single ride once before: at the Tour de Tucson last year. I wasn't prepared for the distance last year, suffering through the last 35+ miles of the ride. I had gone out to do the ride with a friend who (though 24 years my senior) can run 100 mile races (yes, run!), and had beaten me last year by 7 minutes in part thanks to a flat that took my over 20 minutes to fix (with less than 7 miles to go in the race!). Bob, from my famed Rockwell Relay write-up would be so sure to push me again this year.

This time, there were two goals:

 - 1) Improve upon my time, and finish under 6 hours. - This was last year's goal, and due to my flat I missed it by the same 7 minutes that Bob beat me by. Somewhat of a crushing blow back then, as though I had hit my wall with a couple hours of riding to go, I was sure I would beat the 6 hour mark on this 104 mile course until mile 98 when my tire finally gave out (story for another day). This year, I still wasn't prepared, but hoped to improve upon my time from 2014, adjusted for the flat tire debacle. So, 5:30 to 5:45 would be great. But I really hoped for 5:30.

 - 2) Beat Bob! - Okay, this was kind of a joke as I am not overly competitive. However, Bob is trained for endurance events, and though I can usually get him in a quick stint up a hill, this distance would be a great equalizer. Besides, to help spur on the joke of our made up rivalry, Bob did inform me that he purchased extra bottle cages for under his seat so he could carry 4 bottles, hoping to avoid the need to stop the entire race...so he could beat me. He baited me, and I was hooked!

(En route from Santa Clarita, CA to Tucson, AZ)

Saturday morning, and we are up and at 'em. I have pulled Bob from his bed, we drive to downtown Tucson, gear up and get over to the start line. With well over 2500 people signed up just for the century ride, we found ourselves towards the back of the pack.

(Sweaters on, ready for the cold desert morning...then Bob ditched his sweater just before go time.)

(Sweet socks to match the bike!)

A CHANGE IN ELABORATION - INTO THE COCKPIT

To mix things up, I will put you, the reader, into the drivers seat while I am on the bike. Well, maybe just into my head, plenty of room there. My hope is for you to better understand what was going through my head as the ride went on. Welcome to my head, thanks for visiting. Please don't touch anything. Actual statements are in quotation marks, the rest is the mess that is my mind.

Mile -0.005 - We are a bit back of the starting line. How long will it take us to cross the starting line (much less weed through everyone to get into some open space)?! When does the timer start, the website says it is the same for everyone, but the cheesy announcer says it starts when we cross the start. Which is it, this can affect my official ride time!? Oh well, he we go. One foot clipped in, and we are pushing our way up to the start. And stop, and go a little, then stop. Five minutes later according to my garmin, we actually mosey accross the start line and are riding.

Bob and weave, bob and weave. Find Bob, then get back to bobbing and weaving. Nothing too fast, I'm in no position to try and platinum (do the race in under 5 hours). Take your time, enjoy the ride, just try and get ahead of some of these peeps before we get to the first sandy wash crossing 7 miles in. It always backs up, if we can pass a few hundred people now, that's a few hundred people we don't have to walk behind as we cross the wash.

Mile 7.6 - We're going okay, feels slower than last year, but this is early, gotta pace myself. I lost Bob by this point last year on accident, but he's right here. We're to the wash, let's get around some of these people that have gotten off their bikes way too early. Go head, Bob, here we go...passing people, passing people, need to stop, get off the bike...watch out...BOB!!!!

And Bob is down! We're going 0 miles an hour, and Bob takes a spill. As he's getting ready to dismount his bike, we are on dirt, and have to cross a patch of cement. Bob doesn't take it quite head on enough and his tire catches the edge of the curb. Down he goes. Can happen to anyone. Two thoughts: 1) Bob are you okay? Yes he is. A little blood, small chance he thinks he busted his elbow, but he is good. 2) Did you just wreck your new kit!? No, looks good. Whew.

Bob gets up, we gather his plethora of bottles now yard saled off of the bike and onto the ground. Bottles back on the bike, Bob is in order, and we are quickly walking along the side of the concourses of people trying to cross this rather large wash.

We are through the wash, smile at the mariachi band playing as we get back on the bikes, and we are back to riding 100 miles. Bob and weave, bob and weave, find Bob and then bob and weave. We start getting into groups of riders. Things get a little more organized, and a bit more serious. I've lost Bob by this point last year, and now he's still with me.

Between Miles 8 and 10 - I've lost him. I quit looking back, Bob may be close, or he may have dropped, I don't know. Time to get focused. I have started slower than last year, and I want to beat my time. And Bob is made for this stuff. Dial it up a notch! Let's go!

Mile 14 - We've turned a corner, I've been pushing pretty well, moved up a couple groups and need to settle in. I've still got the sweater on though it's warmed up, but better to have it a little long I guess than take it off and wish I hadn't.

WAIT, WHAT!?

Bob passes me. He's behind some guy wanting to pass the group, and he's passing me. I don't even think he sees me! I laugh and pick it up. Time to keep up with Bob! I'm pushing harder, I'm warming up. Alright, I really better get this sweater off before we get too serious. (Besides, it hasn't really blocked much of the wind in effort to keep me warm anyways.)

Mile 15 - I slow down, and cross to the outside of the shoulder. I am going to have to slow down to get this sweater off. All I can think is, don't let a sleeve fall down and get into my tire. Move over, slow down...careful, don't fall sweater until I am ready. One arm off, then the other.Whew done. But crap, Bob is a ways ahead of me now, riding strong at the front of a group of guys. Time to play catch up!

No, that's not Bob. Neither is that. I'm passing people, but no Bob. Wait, that guy was with him. Ugh, umph, push on, ride faster, catch Bob!

Mile 17.5 - Bob! I was afraid I wouldn't catch you! "Nice work Bob, you're killing it!" He pushed past the guys he was riding with, well done. But now I've got some steam going in my legs and I need to keep up my pace. I lost him over 12 miles ago last year, and now I'm having a hard time losing him! Move on Evan, get going. He'll only get stronger. Besides, I need to average 18 to 19 mph on this thing to get me between 5:30 and 5:45. I've averaged only 16.0 so far!

Miles 25 - 26 - Hey, this is the place I dropped my sweater last year. Definitely warmer this year. (SIDE NOTE: One of the great things about El Tour de Tucson, is that you can drop your gear as you go. Volunteers drive the course, pick up any dropped items, and donate them to charity. So a quick $10 sweater purchase the day before, is now at a local charity, being used to keep someone warm. Sadly, this sweater was only good at keeping you warm if you weren't moving at over 5 miles an hour.)

Alright, a quarter of the way through. Still only averaging 17.4 mph, but it's going up!

Mile 28 - Alright, going hard, found a good group to ride with for a bit now. But I'm not sure if I should try and hold them, or let them go. This may be too fast, I've got 76 miles to go, I'm slowing down...What's that someone's hand on my back? Bob!? I turn around not sure if I should be happy he is doing so well, or upset that maybe I'm doing worse, and this will be a big boost for his confidence (or at least put a dent in mine). It's not Bob, just one of the guys in the line. "You got this," He tells me. "Keep going."

And with that figurative (and literal) push, I recommit myself to staying with these guys.

Mile 30 - The group starts passing the 75 milers. This is fun, as it is always fun to be passing people. We (well at least I) are sort of playing bob and weave again to keep with the guys at the front of our group. There are two, and they are strong. I'm lucky/happy just to be staying up with them.

Then something weird happens. Between miles 36 and 46 we get a little downhill and I welcome it. I'm with them for a bit, but then I lose them. Maybe they spent too much too soon, or I am now using too much of my own energy, but I push on.

Mile 48 - I've come to the second wash. (Last year I had someone behind me that didn't see everyone in front of us slowing down, and next thing I know I realize my back wheel is locked up. I look down and see his bars stuck in my wheel and I am pulling his bike along. I stop and he come running up apologizing. "No worries, just get it out." I said very nicely all things considered he could have ruined my first attempt to ride a century!) This time I am sure to look behind me as well as I come to the wash. It seems there are more people than last year. Though I sort of crashed, I was actually able to ride through this wash. This year I had to walk over half of it do to the number of people not trying to ride this part of mostly rideable course. By the time I reached the wash my average speed was up to 19.0 mph, right where I figured it needed to be. But I still had most of the hills in front of me and there was this whole thing called fatigue that I knew would set in as I figured I wasn't ready for this.

Either way, I made it through the wash, which included a small running stream that I rode through while most others appeared to walk their bikes on a little bridge. Cue the 2nd round of a mariachi band, thanks guys, and it was on to some hills.

Miles 48.7 through 65 - I'm through the wash, and now have a few small hills to tackle. My speed is okay, but I've got to keep it up through these hills. I spot some riders, I join in the fun. There is probably about 6 or 7 of us, 3 or 4 guys and 3 girls. On the flats the guys take the charge and get slightly in front of the women. The road turns up and these ladies show us what getting 'chicked' is all about. They are fit, they can't weigh but 100 lbs (maybe even with their bikes), and it's like they enjoyed us foolishly using our energy to pass them when the roads flatens out, only to reel us back in and pass us back on these small climbs.

Either way, we are making good time, and my average time has only dropped by a tenth of a mile per hour. However, I'm running low on water, and it's time to find a support station to fill up. 40 miles to go as the day had warmed up, this would be about the halfway point to what I would need from a water standpoint. Who knows how far Bob is behind me, and knowing him, he's not stopping.

Mile 76 - I've been trying to ride with people but have done the last bit mostly solo. However, I just found a group of guys that I don't remember if I caught up to them, or they to me, but we turn onto Tangerine Rd., and I find the best part of the ride. There is about twenty of us, and I'm towards the back. Alright this is a fun, straight, slightly downhill piece of the ride. I'm on the back, feels like I'm barely working, and we're moving between 25-30 mph. The wind isn't bad, and the novice rider that I am, have never experienced this before. We're doing this for almost 6 miles! Killing it!

Wait, I have my own race to run, and I know the last 20 miles is this false flat of a straight highway frontage road. This was where I was in my pain cave last year. Time to do a little planning.

First, ain't nobody riding for free. I need/want my turn up front! This is too fun not to! Second, I need to be towards the front of the pack in the event that when we turn on the frontage road and I start to slow down, I have guys to take me over one at a time, rather than simply getting spit out the back of the train at the first sign of trouble.

I make my move. I start hammering, not too hard to come off as cocky to those I am passing, but just right where I am saying to them, look I'm no better than you, but let me take a turn up front and help pull this thing down the road. I've come out of the line, but am close enough to the line that I've still got some help from the draft. After the front couple of guys appear to not want to be passed I settle in about 3rd in the line. Six miles in at an average speed of 27+ mph on this, I am excited to be there.

Mile 83 - We now enter the frontage road, my nemesis to last year's ride. (There I found myself alone, and deep in the pain cave. I did have someone to help me for a bit, but a flat would almost, but not quite, ruin my day. See, the guy that wrecked into me 50 miles before had cause my tire to lock up on the chip sealed road. I didn't notice it then (I was afraid to look down), but upon getting my flat 98 miles into the race, I noticed I have worn through my tire at that spot, and would have to limp to the end, hoping to not wear through the tube that was all but exposed directly to the road.) 

(Picture of the tire after last year's ride.)

I start out at a good pace. I am keeping up with the other guys, this is good. According to my plan of eating every 40 minutes or so, I should have something. But I have to stay with these guys. The energy I save from staying in the group will more than make up for my eating. I'm tired enough that I cannot keep this speed up if I try and get something. Besides, a Gu doesn't sound good right now.

What...oh..there goes a guy around me. No worries, stay strong, push ahead. Keep with the group. (A minute or two passes.) What...oh.."Go ahead." He's going strong, let him past. Get on his wheel. Can't keep his wheel. (A few more minutes pass.) There goes another around me.

About mile 93 or 94 - Another guy passes...okay no big deal...oh, there is no one else. I am alone, I have been spewed out of the back of the group and must finish on my own. I PUSH myself to get to mile 98. This was where you flatted last year. No flats, you're doing great. Just...keep...pedaling.

You should have eaten something half an hour ago, stayed on the plan. Eat something now? I can't. Besides, it won't do me any good. (Hindsight - It probably would have.)

Mile 100 - I'm off the frontage road. Last 4 miles, just keep going. The road is older, not maintained as well. There is a small hill, nothing big, but it feels like I am granny gearing it. Why do they have this as part of the course. I've already gone 100 miles, this is just to antagonize me!

Mile 102 - Not sure how much further to the final turn, but now, NOW, I get the wind in my face. Come on!

Mile 103.3 - Finally, the final turn. You got this...Hey I'm getting passed. It's the guys I rode with during the 2nd quarter of the race. They caught me. Dang, they caught me. And...now they've passed me. That's fine. Just finish.

And finish I did. I was dead.

(So done)

And here is my ONE complaint about the race, NO COLD COKES at the end. Nothing besides water!?

"Do you know where I can score a Coke right now?" I asked one of the workers. 

"No, but you can check the Michelob stand/area."

So I walked over to the area where they served a free beer to the participants.

"You guys don't happen to have any Coke my chance?"

"No," he replied, "But if you have an I.D. I can give you a Michelob."

"I don't drink, but you telling me I would need to show my I.D. to get my free beer just about made my day." And I walked off. Still mad I couldn't even find a Gatorade.

THE RESULTS

So, I did finally make my way back over to the grass to lay down for a minute, and eventually found Bob, standing by the finish line looking to see if I was still coming in behind him.

"You won't see him there," I told him.

Bob turned around smiling, "How long ago did you come in?"

"A while ago. (pause) Before you," I responded with an even bigger smile.

(Happy to be done!)

I finished with a time of 5:15, with an average speed of 20 mph. A time I am very happy with. 52 minutes faster than last year, closer to half an hour adjusted for the flat tire. 

Bob came in at 5:44. Based on his Strava, he did have some extra time waiting at the lights, but still managed to shave 16 minutes off his total time, and probably closer to 20 to 25 minutes off of last year's moving time. (This is not to mention the time he had to stop to get water this year after all. He lost 3 of his bottles from out of the cages fairly early, and thus could not go the race with a solo bottle.)

Needless to say, my 100 Mile of 'Nowhere' was a blast! 

(Showing off my 100 Miles of Nowhere socks!)

(Bob, cruising back to the car. Not sure how my camera did that to his legs.)

(Sporting the 100 MON shirt as we gassed up in Casa Grande!)

Rockwell Relay, Part IX - THE FINALE!

Important note, you can start reading the story from Part 1 here, if you'd like.

LEG 11

Mike's leg would start in Cedar City and run west to Enterprise. It was Mike's shortest leg at just over 41 miles, and he would be doing it alone. I don't recall much happening during this part of the leg, but I did get a couple texts from Mark on our other team just as Mike was taking off.

"Status check...what's your progress?" Mark asked. 

I figured they were done at this point and wanted to know how far back we were. "Mike is in route," I replied.

"That climb never ends. So heinous."

I was sure to not share this with Mike during his ride.

(Long, fairly straight straight road the whole way.)

The road didn't actually have any one, super steep climb in its path. Instead it was rather long, and when you thought it might end, it might. But just for a minute. Then it was back up again for a bit.

Side note: It was also during Mike's leg that I came to the realization that Andrew had on his leg. See like Andrew, I also thought my last leg was 30 miles. Like Andrew, I was informed that it was actually over 37 miles. And like Andrew I was not happy about it. At all. But unlike Andrew, I had nothing to blame this on but myself. There had been no route changes on this leg of the race. I had simply remembered what I apparently wanted to remember. And I was wrong. On a good note, this sudden swing of events did brighten Andrew's spirits.

(The sun was back out, along with some wind. Mike was head down, pushing through it.)

About halfway through the ride the road flattened out and Mike kept his strong pace all the way into Enterprise.

(Mike, coming into Enterprise, happy to be done.)

Leg 12

Finally, the last leg was here. I congratulated Mike and took off. I knew I started with a climb and that it would be rolling hills after that into St. George. I also knew it was just after 4:15 pm and the awards ceremony was at 7:00, so I figured that getting there shouldn't be too big of a problem. Just get through the climb and get moving. However, I didn't know one thing...

(Just leaving Enterprise...can you spot the problem?)

I started the climb and knew that they would take a few minutes to let Mike relax before they climbed into the van and came to offer support. Like on the other legs, I am sure I thought to myself, "I wonder how far I can get before they catch up to me?" So, I grinded out the climb just outside of Enterprise and was almost proud they weren't there yet. The wind was still blowing from what felt like every direction but behind me, but at least I was going downhill in sections. And then, finally, I heard Andrew.

"Hey!"

I look over and see Andrew in a van, just not my van.

"Do you have the keys? We can't find them, we've looked everywhere."

"Ugh...let me check." And there in the back right pocket of my jersey were the van keys. Awesome. (In my defense, I did not plan on having the keys. See someone else (they shall remain nameless because it really doesn't matter Andrew) was driving when we got to Enterprise and didn't turn the van off but got out and went inside the store. After returning from the check-in tent and seeing my van, that had been driving for so long with little rest, sitting there in the parking lot of a convenience store empty but running, I decided to turn it off and give the keys to someone when I saw them. But not having any front pockets to put them in, they went into a jersey pocket to be forgotten about. It could happen to anyone, right?)

Anyways, with a quick hand-off of the keys Andrew headed back to get our team van. I, on the other hand, continued to make my way to St. George.

(Laughing as I was being teased about stealing the keys during a bottle exchange.)

A few things were again brought to my attention on these last few miles of road. First, I was reminded that in a wind all the fun of a down hill can be taken away. Second, smog checks need to be done on more trucks in southern Utah. At least for a few that hit the gas as they went around me on this stretch of road. Third, there are more rolling hills (meaning you still have some small climbs to do) between Enterprise and St. George. It's not all downhill, even if you want it to be that way. And fourth, just because it's your last leg, and the final leg of the race, and you are very excited about getting a real meal after the race is over, you HAVE to keep fueling yourself. While I wasn't to the point of bonking, I wished I had a little more in the tank to kill it on the final descent into St. George. I went fast, but I knew there was room for more.

(Crossing the line.)

We finished just after 6:30 pm. We had been going for just of 36 and a half hours. We were exhausted. But we LOVED it!

(Team pic with the medals.)

THE END!

Wait...I can't forget a pic of James (Andrew's dad). That came to help drive and took these amazing pics. THANKS JAMES!

(Andrew and James at the leg 2-3 transition point)