The 24 hour Mountain Bike race at Devil's Head Resort is over. It was the toughest race that I have ever competed in. Here is my story.
I drove out of Red Lake on Thursday afternoon under cloudy skies. About a half hour into the drive the rain started and continued for the next 5 hours until I reached Fort Francis. This was a bad omen. I set up my tent in the rain and quickly fell asleep. I awoke at 5:00 am to the sound of rain on my tent. It had not stopped all night. I broke camp and hit the road for 9 more hours of driving through rain until I reached Devil's Head Resort in Merrimac, Wisconsin. Just before I arrived, the sun came out and things were looking a little better.
I set up camp and put my bike together in preparation for a pre-race ride of the course. At about that time, Pat Irwin showed up. He was covered in mud from head to toe. I had not seen Pat since the Iditasport 100 last February in Alaska. "What happened to you?", I asked. "This is after one lap. It's pretty bad out there", he replied. I got everything together and went for a ride.
The course started by going straight up the ski hill. About half way up we turned into the woods and followed single track the rest of the way to the top. The golf course at the bottom was flooded so water was being pumped from the golf course to the opposite side of the mountain. The opposite side of the mountain was where our race course was located so a lot of the up hill single track had a river flowing down it. The rest of the course was mostly single track that zig-zagged up and down the mountain. The ground was completely saturated so there was mud everywhere but it seemed manageable. 1 lap took about an hour.
Later that evening, Pierre Ostor and Michael Madden showed up. They were also at the race in Alaska. We all set up our pit area together with Michael's parents as our pit crew.
The race started the next day at 12 noon under a cloudless sky. The trail was drier than the day before, although the man made river from the golf course was still flowing and made some parts of the trail very muddy.
I quickly settled into a routine of ride a lap, hose the bike, oil everything, eat something, ride another lap. I went at a comfortable pace and everything was OK. The bike was deteriorating quickly. By 7:00 pm my brakes were almost completely gone. Pat said that his rear brakes were completely gone and he was relying on front brakes only. I decided that mountain biking was truly a stupid sport and mountain bike racing was even more stupid. This would be my last race. In fact, after this race, I will no longer ride bikes at all.
We put our lights on the bikes and continued on. Pat had lapped me by now but his lead did not seem to be increasing. We were finishing laps within a few minutes of each other for several laps in a row. I was hoping that he would tire soon so that I could get that lap back.
At around 10:30 pm the rain started. The trail turned to pure mud everywhere. In some places it was knee deep. Riding was impossible for me so I started pushing. The tires filled with mud and would no longer turn, even when pushing the bike down the mountain. I dragged my bike along the trail. At midnight I changed my clothes and headed out in the rain again, walking and dragging my bike for the entire lap.
I finished that lap at 2:30 am. This was no longer mountain biking and I was no longer interested. I took off my shoes and socks to inspect my feet. Blood was oozing from under the toe nails on both my feet. Both heels were raw from constant contact with my shoes and the mud. Blood was running down my right shin but I could not tell where the cut was due to all the mud on my legs. I made the decision to stop rather than risk permanent damage to my feet. I have a family and a job to go home to and they are way higher in priority than this stupid hobby that I seem to be addicted to. I was in 6th place when I decided to stop.
My bike was also in a terrible state. The rear brake was gone and the front not far behind. The shifters were filled with mud but still functioning. The drive train was making noises that I have never heard before. To continue on would mean un-repairable damage to my bike and this is the only mountain bike that I own.
Pat rolled in a few minutes later and decided not to go out again. He crawled in his truck and went to sleep. I crawled in my tent and went to sleep. Pierre had already gone back to his hotel and gone to sleep. Michael came in and said that if he was not in the lead of the race, he would be stopping as well. He installed new brakes, and went back out.
I awoke to some noises at 5:30 am. I looked outside my tent to see Pat and Pierre preparing to ride. They asked if I was coming. I thought about walking, thought about my feet, thought about my bike, and said no. They left for another lap. I got up and decided to load the car and go home. Then I remembered that If I did not complete a lap after 11:00am, I would not be considered a finisher and I would DNF my first race ever. No matter how bad things were, I could not let that happen.
John Olson was another soloist that I had met this weekend. He had gone out for a lap at midnight and not returned until 4:30 am. At that point he stopped and went to bed. I asked if he was doing one more lap to finish the race. He said, "No. I'm packing up and going home. This is not mountain biking." I suggested that we leave at 9:00 am and walk a lap together so that we could finish the race. After a great deal of discussion and hesitation, he agreed. At 9:00 am we put our mud soaked clothes back on and started pushing our bikes up the mountain.
The lap took us a full two hours but it turned out to be one of the most enjoyable of the race. We met some other people walking, got to know each other, and in that short time, we became close friends.
At about 10:30 am the rain began to fall in buckets. An appropriate end to an incredibly tough race.
Amazingly, when I finished, I was still in 6th place. No one had caught me even though I stopped for almost 9 hours. I completed a total of 115.07 km and I estimate that I walked 50 of them.
Pierre rode a couple more laps after he got up and finished just behind me in 7th.
Pat was in 4th place when he went to bed and managed to gain 1 position after he got up to finish in 3rd place. He was really happy. Pat rides a single speed bike for Airborne Direct and this was the first time that he had placed in the top 3.
Michael is a machine. He carried his bike for most of the night and finished in first place by several laps.
Personally, I was deeply disappointed with my performance. I allowed my own doubts to influence me and I lost focus on why I was doing this race. My feet were not that bad and I had several extra pairs of shoes that would have relieved the pressure on the problem areas. There is no such thing as "un-repairable damage to a bike" unless the frame is damaged. Everything else is replaceable and there was absolutely no danger of frame damage. The race conditions had broken me down mentally and I was not able to pull it together.
The great part is that I have learned far more from this experience than I would have in ideal race conditions. I watched Pat stop racing just like me. At 5:30 am he pulled it together and finished in the top 3. That is an inspiration that I will not forget.
So how can an Iditasport finisher say that a 24 hour, fully supported mountain bike race in the summer is the toughest race so far. I learned that the toughest race is not the coldest, not the longest, not the highest, and not the steepest. The toughest race is the race that you are not prepared for.
Will I race again? Oh yeah! In fact, I've already started counting the days until the next one. And now I've got another tool to use when the going gets real tough. I'll just remember Pat Irwin on June 4th, 2000, and I'll pull it together and I'll continue on.
Best Regards,
Bill Shand
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