AES Prescott 2011

It’s a good thing I wasn’t racing the AZT 300 this year. I don’t know when I would have had the time to get ready. Thursday was a hectic day of scrambling for SPOTs (late package!), building trackers (3 events on trackleaders.com this weekend), getting everyone set for the AZT race and buying $100 in candy bars for Paula’s kids (!). I skipped the race start, instead putting SPOTs and the duty of firing the (symbolic) gun into the capable hands of Tim McCabe (thanks Tim!), and headed north to Prescott.

Enel put me up for the night, and that night included pizza and ice cream with his awesome family (thanks Eric!). I checked in on the trackers, hacked some code at 10:30pm, then crashed out for the night.

60 miles around Prescott, route map in TopoFusion

33 riders gathered at the Costco parking lot to blast around the Prescott Monster Cross route. I had some unfinished business on this route, after dropping out last year with a sprained ankle. Though I did come back last summer and ride a 6:24 (course record) it wasn’t during the race, and local Dan Hight has owned this race through its history.

photo by Seron Eaton – eatbikes.blogspot.com

Dan led us into the Dells, his backyard playground, and promptly hit the dirt on the first corner. Ouch. It wasn’t long before he passed everyone back, including Chad and I when we took a tiny wrong turn. I temporarily suspended my “keep it cool in the Dells” rule just as experiment, to see if I could stay with Dan. I couldn’t. He was too fast and was hitting the lines all too well. He kept getting further ahead until he was out of sight and I was walking stuff I might (emphasis on might) be riding had I been following Dan’s wheel. Well played by Dan.

The Dells (look for the riders in the middle) – photo by Seron Eaton – eatbikes.blogspot.com

The goal was to escape unscathed, so the “keep it cool” rule was reinstated, especially when walking my bike (how I injured myself last year). The Dells are home to a fantastic network of trail through mostly rock. Someone did an amazing job of creating a (mostly) rideable route that hops from granite massif to granite massif. It can be a little hard to read (the terrain) and the surprises — and hike-a-bike sections — are many.

I sighed some relief as I exited the Dells onto a 4 foot wide bike path. Time to get to work. Last time I was able to catch Dan before the next singletrack. But as I dug into the pedals and watched my heart rate skyrocket it became clear he had a significant lead. I hadn’t seen him for an hour before I finally caught a glimpse. It took just about everything I had to reel him in right before we started the high speed drop into Granite Basin. I knew it would be approximately 150% faster if I was following him, and at least 200% more fun.

He was not pleased to see me. “Hey Dan, how’s it going?” “UGh, Scott? Where did you come from?”

He’s such a solid bike handler that just having him in sight and even peripherally picking up on his movements and lines really helped me keep the speed up. He definitely grew gaps at times, but I was able to push back on small climbs or by the luck of the draw (hiker encounters).

After we crossed Mint Wash for the first time I took my opportunity to ‘attack’. I knew from last year that I was able to ride a few of the steeps where Dan was forced to walk on his singlespeed. There are some tricky spots in here, so I put my full force into making sure I cleaned everything. A dismount meant precious wasted time. Brilliant climbing, that.

It worked. I couldn’t hear him behind me anymore and caught my last glimpse at the switchback above Mint Wash. He was standing and hammering, not showing any signs of giving up chase, so I kept it on full gas…. for the next 30 miles! I was scared of his singlespeed pace, his local knowledge (esp. when I blew turns and had to back track) and overall bike skill.

I started coming a bit unglued just before Wolverton Mountain, realizing my pace was a bit high for a six hour ride. I was just about out of water (and thus CR 333), and fearing the next big climb (Spruce Mtn). I followed the descent to White Spar with some soft pedaling on the pavement, filled up on water, stuffed my cheeks full of powerbar crack nuggets, and was quickly reborn. It helped that I checked my splits for the first time and was shocked to see I was a half hour ahead of my summer ITT pace.

Bike racing can seem like such a struggle sometimes. You ride faster than is reasonable, and sometimes you wonder why. Or at least I do. Even when it hurts you keep going even faster, and hope that the effort pays off. But what, exactly, is the payoff? Especially in an AES “race”? Personal satisfaction? Impressing a few people in the parking lot, over pizza and beers? The glory of your name posted to a webpage that only you and your friends check? Bragging rights on your blog, but you didn’t even take any photos to share with?

There’s some of that, for sure, and for whatever that’s worth, but I keep coming back to how much pure and simple fun I have when I am out riding my bike hard. There is a beautiful feeling of purpose when you have no doubt what you are focused on doing, and you just do it. Everything else shuts off, for the most part, and there is only you, the bike, the trail and maybe some fellow competitors for further motivation. Having a purpose, even if only for a day, or for six hours, is a powerful thing. (I would argue that it’s not that important what that purpose is, just that you 100% believe in it, at least for a time).

There is another feeling that I find myself chasing, and it is one I flirted with for some time out in the forests of Prescott. Sometimes racing is not a struggle at all, it’s effortless. You power over rises and know you are going hard, but feel nothing. It’s as natural as breathing, and you’re just flowing. I had my heart rate flashing at me on my GPS, so I could confirm I was going hard, but not feeling it. If I could choose to coast in (and still win), or stop (and still win) I wouldn’t choose to. I’d keep going this exact speed, because it just feels good. Maybe you know what I’m talking about. Maybe not. (You don’t have to be racing and definitely don’t have to be fast to experience this, but both help.)

It helped that the stepping climb of #396 flows so well itself. It almost feels as if it isn’t gaining any elevation at all. Even on Spruce Mtn I didn’t have to fight it, I just kept the pedals cranking and surprised myself at the top.

And then… Smith Ravine, the descent off Spruce. No more babying my tiny tires, it is time to schralp! Speed is my friend, and even the granny gear puncher climbs disappear like they aren’t even there. I start congratulating myself on 305, and mentally prepare to raise the roof on the stoke meter, because finishing on this trail may set a new record. We’re talking banked corners, soft pine needle trail and astounding flow. Does it get any better than this?

And then, I lean into a corner hard and hear escaping air. First reaction is to keep riding — it’s AZ and Stans will seal it. No, grab the brakes NOW — you are turning on your front rim with zero PSI, moron!

Oh, what a buzzkill. 5 and a half hours of building momentum blown into the wind. It only took me seven minutes to drop in a tube, but I was so thrown off by it that I could never get my 305 magic feeling back. I still had some fun, but it was mostly an exercise, and I was afraid of another flat or blowing my other anemic tire off the bead. Luckily it was only a half hour or so to the finish, where I found Dan waiting with a shredded tire and a pretty bummed look on his face (he had to bail at White Spar). Better luck next time, my friend, I was running scared of you the whole time!

6:01 total time for ~60 miles, 23 minutes faster than my best.

Costco Pizza and good folks wrapped up a nice day. I found Dave Harris at my house when I returned, and then the AZT race weekend continued with quite a few racers cycling through my house and phone, and quite a few reloads on trackleaders.com. I can’t express how much I love the AZT race and how cool it is to see people out there enjoying the Arizona Trail, pushing limits and living life to its fullest (or so it seems to me). Especially cool this year was to see Lynda pull into the lead and become not only the first woman to finish the 300, but also the 2011 winner with a very fast time. Good stuff.