Mission Project

Behind the Race
Having once organized a bike race, (and promptly swore never to do it again); I have profound respect for Jim Northey and all of his staff for putting on this bike race. They raise money for the UC Davis Cancer center. From the insurance, to the porta-potties and the other thousand headaches, putting on a race is harder than racing it. Aside from being a really nice, well organized gregarious man, Jim Northey is the evil genius that Descartes spoke about. Given the course selection, I believe Jim and I am, have something in common, we find climbing steep hills cathartic. Like the Innuit/Eskimo who have a thousand words for snow, those who relish hills use many descriptive terms. Hard brutal short climbs, false peak drifters to false flats and rocky middle ring bangers; climbers know them all. Now, I won't describe the whole course but 1/4 of the way into your 11 mile lap there is a fast rocky fire-road descent through a fairly deep stream crossing with a sharp left hander into a wall, that is 20%-25%+ grade lined with photos of loved ones lost to cancer. It's really quit touching. Now having your attention, the course meanders for a few miles, alternating terrain and scenery before doubling back into a rocky creeper of a climb that goes on and on and on before sweeping through a series of fields and tree groves, some double track rollers, bridge crossings and the down-hill finish. The rules for the race are simple, do as many laps as you can in 24 hours. The team with the most laps wins. My friends Pat, Jonas and Gavin and myself are competing as a 4 person teams against 27 other teams.

The Race
At noon on Saturday a single file line of mountain bikers zipped along through rolling fields and crested over a hill in the distance. Jonas had led our team off our team again; I was to be second, Pat third and Gavin fourth. Our goal was to pace ourselves and have someone on the course at all times. Having raced a few times this year, I was calmer, more relaxed, and more focused. I knew what I was in for, ride your bike as hard as you can for 1 hour and rest for 3; rinse and repeat. In between our laps, we each had our own routine. Put on Phantom Jacket, swallow Glutamine, eat sandwich, Kettle chips and drink Gatorade. Drink water as I stretched inside of the Stronghold tent, swallowing anti-cramping pills. Work on your bike, change your clothes, put on Chugach pants to keep warm between every lap. After a few laps, it all becomes a blur

The Night
The night can empower you or can haunt you, it can change every lap you do. What was once euphoric downhill can become a grinding gut check as your sub-conscious sorts at the difference between good times and broken hearts. Somewhere around 3 am it all starts to come clear. It's only you and your headlamp slicing through the darkness of some foreign field. After 2 night laps I was feeling drained, committed but drained. We each took turns keeping warm and napping in our communal Stronghold tent. It was perfect for keeping an eye on each other and making sure each rider was ready for his lap. Somewhere before dawn, Jonas woke me up for my third and final night lap. Tired, but determined, I switched out my Light and Motion battery and pedaled my way round the course. In the middle of the night, there is no spectators, no cow bells; it's silent except for the gears, tires and breathing. The sun gently rose as I finished my lap. It is amazing how allegorical the night can be. Sure, maybe the endorphins helped but; we had done it, we had ridden all night without stopping. Just when we were all ready to eat burgers and pat each other on the back, we realized we might have a shot for 3rd place. So after a few more laps Jonas comes hammering in to the finish to tag me. I realize, if I finish hard, we might have a chance to finish one more lap before the noon deadline. On the other hand, As I left for my lap, Pat and Gavin were wearing shorts and flip flops heading to get lunch. I was torn, do I hammer as fast as I could and hope that a teammate is ready for the final lap or pace myself for 2 laps? I decide to pedal as hard as I can for one lap and see what happens. After 23 hours of bike racing, eyes are blurry, stingy, muscles aren't just angry, they're not talking to me anymore. I kept thinking the next person ahead of me was the guy I had to pass to get 3rd, As soon as I would hear anything behind me, I would get spooked and pedal faster and harder.

The Finish
I finished my final lap in 55 minutes hoping that a teammate was there with at least a water bottle to pass to me. After 23 hours of racing, Gavin wasn't eating burgers, he wasn't drinking beer, he was there waiting for me in 95 degree weather. Gavin had 1 hour and 10 minutes to finish the final lap. Jonas, Pat and I gathered at the finish line at 11:40 am to watch Gavin cruise to the finish and get us the final podium position. 11:50 am, we started worrying as rider after rider passed the finish line with no Gavin in sight. 11.55 am were pacing back and forth. 11.57 am, we speechless except for an occasional muttering of "come one Gavin." 11.58, Gavin pops over the final hill a 1/4 mile a way, hammering the descent. With only 25 seconds to spare, Gavin crosses the line in front of hundreds of cheering spectators. It turns out; while Gavin was changing a flat he knocked out a disc brake pad and couldn't find the spring so he rode 3/4 of his final lap with no rear brakes. Everyone had done well, done their part, it was a great moment that I got to share with three good friends. Sure our 3rd place podium position turned out to be 8th place, but it didn't matter; we hadn't come for the $10 trophy (that would have collected dust in the closet.) We came for the experience, to challenge ourselves to do better.