24 Hours in the Old Pueblo 2009 (Hardwear Sessions)

By Sean McDevitt, Mountain Hardwear Tent Developer

The idea of racing my mountain bike for 24 hours straight used to scare the hell out of me. The fact that going into my 4th 24 Solo I love it even more, scares me. They are mostly unsanctioned, un-televised races that barely get a blurb on the bike news websites. It is terribly expensive, time consuming and rarely involves prizes more than T shirts and chain lube samples. It is so hard that it takes a month to recover and even the most elite of riders can only do 2-3 races per year. Countless stories of courage, hope and tenacity are never told. Over the past few years I have seen so many racers pedal their hearts out in the middle of the night. Some race out of love of cycling, broken hearts or the competitive challenge to race for 24 hours.

24 hours straight!

I have spent the last year and a half working my way up the food-chain of 24 solo mtb racers. Every race I take less breaks, ride faster and dig deeper. On February 14th I ran down a familiar desert dirt road outside of Tucson AZ with 600 other racers to begin a contest to see who loved riding their bike more; it was Valentine's Day after all. This was 24 Hours in the Old Pueblo, the biggest 24 hour race in North America, with the most stacked solo category in its history.

I busted out the first few laps of the 16 mile single track course at a good pace until I flatted on my 3rd lap. Another flat on my 4th lap slowed me down to where I could only fit in 4 laps/64 miles before nightfall. I changed into some warmer clothes while my invaluable pit crew of Annie mounted night lights and changed bottles. With a bit of faith and luck, I pedaled off into the windy night that was a frosty 31F.

Sean McDevitt staying warm in his Mountain Hardwear Phantom Jacket.
Photo by Annie Larkin

I don't remember much from the night laps except some realization that I would complete more than 100 miles of single track in the dark; also remember passing a large racer riding up the last hill weeping openly. As dawn rose over the rolling desert, I realized I had made it through 18 hours of bike racing with two 10 minute breaks, no wrecks and only 2 flats. I was becoming the little the Buddha, pedaling round in the moment.

Around 11 am, while riding my beginning last lap, I saw my fellow solo racer, Zach. Upon realizing we were both on lap 13; Zach put the hammer down, big ring style on a steep hill known as the final hill of the "Bitches." I big ringed it after him, down the flowing dirt fire road until I lost sight of him as we entered some single track. I settled into a more reasonable pace until another solo passed me and I was instantly on his wheel determined that no none else would beat me today. After a few hundred yards he cracked and waved me past. In a wave of competitive paranoia and mania, I passed another 4 solos and perhaps 20 other riders on the final climbs and would finish the day in 10th place at 12:05 pm . Interestingly enough, after 24 hours of racing only 5 minutes would separate 7-10th places.

Sean McDevitt with energy for some airtime.

For me, 24 Solo bike racing is not just a race to determine pecking order but rather a journey of self discovery. It is an inconvenient love, and the purest of sports and I am counting the days to the Coolest 24 Hour Race against Cancer.