Whiskey and the Dells

This was my first Whiskey Offroad. I’ve studied the maps and played with the GPX files many years, mapping for Epic Rides, and wondered just what it feels like to race the monster climb out of Skull Valley. Since I skipped the AZT race this year, it was time to find out.

2011 saw a new Pro category and separate race (with a $20,000 purse), leaving the amateur and SS categories wide open. I had no idea what kind of time I could ride, but figured 3:45 or faster (for ~50 miles) should be doable if I can have a decent ride. More than anything I was looking forward to some fast racing, with the singlespeed category offering a trip to Ireland for the winner, I knew the singlespeeders would be pushing hard.

On Friday I did a short pre-ride on the first few miles of the route. The rest was new to me, except for a few spots that overlap (in the other direction) with the Prescott Monster Cross route that I raced two weeks ago.

Race morning I lined up early, so I could be at the front. With ~500 people starting there was some serious potential for bottlenecks. People were shivering, and many of the top riders just rode backwards and set up in front of the start line. Actually Todd Sadow invited the singlespeeders to the front, and I was happy to have Eszter line up right in front of me, ready to race for Ireland!

It’s funny because the first ~20 minutes climbing on pavement seemed pretty mellow to me. I remember asking Dejay when the climbing started. I was getting bored. My one piece of course knowledge was where the singletrack started. I was at the back of the lead group of 10 as we rode a 2-track just before the singletrack. I saw an opening and got around everyone. I didn’t need to lead the singletrack, but figured starting 10 back would lose time.

photo by hoosker on mtbr

I say it’s funny, because in retrospect I think I started too fast and would have been faster overall had I kept a cooler head. I am still finding my racing head, and am not afraid to make mistakes. I figure to find a good starting pace I have to go over it a few times, in order to explore the boundary. Besides, racing hard and duking it out with fast guys is just too much fun. In the end fun trumps all, and I had no intention of riding a super smart race going in. I was just hoping to break myself.

After some stair stepping singletrack, we rallied down a long and rubbly descent (trail #260). I felt like I was holding back, and expected to hear riders behind me, but nobody appeared until we were into the next steep climb, where singlespeeders Plews, Beto and Melley all passed me.

The course drops 9.6 miles to Skull Valley, on a graded road, only to turn around and climb right back up. Stupid course design? Or brilliant mental challenge?

My big ring brought me back to Mike Melley, and eventually Beto, but not without suffering. I had to pedal hard to pull Beto in. “I’ve been waiting for you, Scott… but I can’t go that fast.” I motioned for him to grab my wheel, and we rolled down to the turnaround point together. The leaders were just leaving, which was a boon to motivation. I climbed in front of Beto, claimed I was feeling good, then I climbed behind him. And Mike, and several others.

“This is awful” … “No, this is awesome” … “I hate this” … “I love it.”

My mind was my enemy. I wanted to crawl inside and disappear. But there was nowhere to hide. No rocks or fun singletrack, no new country or downhills, just more and more climbing. Just you, your bike and the climb. Pure suffering.

For the most part I only lost positions on the climb. But there was one rider I passed. He was standing in the middle of the road. He had the look of a fit rider, and an expensive race bike. His bike was facing up the hill, but he was looking down, as if even the sight of more climbing was too much to handle. I could relate. He looked absolutely shelled, and when I asked if he was OK he paused, grunted and said only, “yeah…”.

I started to see the beauty of the Skull Valley out and back, right then and there. And I felt its wrath all the way through the rest of the climb, up to the viewpoint where singletrack gloriously awaited. “Oh yeah, this is a mountain bike race.” It was so nice to be on trail again. I started gaining time on the bulk of the downhill, then hit “cramp hill” with gusto. Like clockwork I started feeling my hamstrings tightening up, so I had to ease off. What a Whiskey noob!

photo by Rich Charpentier

At one creek crossing there was a crowd and a volunteer trying desperately to get people to ride the “right” line. There were people too close to the right line, and I didn’t see anything difficult, so I kept going straight. I heard “no, that line doesn’t work” as I pedaled through it, to many cheers from the crowd. That made me laugh.

I demonstrated my total lack of skill just minutes later, when I clipped my pedal on a rock that never even registered in my brain. It wasn’t a challenging section at all, I was just riding along, then I was crashing, and trying to get my foot out to catch me. That was a bad move, because it caused my calf to seize up. When I looked up there was another crowd watching and asking if I was OK. I struggled to get back on the bike and ride across the next creek, shouting something like, “whoooo, that’s mountain bike racing!”

I pulled off for a rider that was coming through with much more composure than me. And then we hit pavement. Like an idiot I had crashed just before the singletrack ended. The rider ahead worked hard to get away, but once I caught the tail end of his draft it was easy to do the rest. I sat and recovered behind him until we turned right and started a short climb. I figured the kid was blown and I was fresh from sitting on his wheel. Wrong! He killed me as we started ramping it up, and we were going so fast around the last couple corners that we couldn’t stay inside the cones. It was awesome. I was smiling big and clapping my hands as I crossed the line seconds behind him. Turns out he was an AZ Devo rider, is only 16, and won his category.

I was 7th in Open Men, 19-45, with a time of 3:43. Not a bad first Whiskey, but I know I can go faster too.

I tried to spin my cramped leg out, then returned to the start finish area just in time to see Eszter roll into the finish with her very own police escort. She was the first woman to finish, first singlespeed and had won the trip to Ireland. Awesome.

That evening I went to Enel’s rock and roll church (!!), watched Pedal Driven, then went to sleep dreaming of…

Padre rolls an early steep in the Dells

ROCK!! Somehow I was able to coax my carcass out of bed, assemble the Behemoth bike and meet Eric, Dan Hight and Padre (mtbr) in the Dells @715a. Actually I was excited and couldn’t wait to get out there, though my body did protest for the first half hour of riding.

maybe next time — photo by Eric Nelson

In that half hour I passed on several moves that Eric and Dan made look easy, including one uphill one!

That little animation illustrates what it’s like out there better than any pic. It’s full body riding, slow and chunky. My favorite! I thought I had an idea of what slow speed tech is, but the Dells take it to a new level. There really is nowhere to gain any sort of speed, it’s just one ‘problem’ after another. Absolutely brilliant.

Dan was narrowly edged out of the Whiskey 25 proof SS win the day before

Eric and Dan are the masters of the Dells, so this was the all access pass, A-game tour. Exactly what I have been waiting for. I’ve felt guilty for racing through here (three times!) on Prescott Monster Cross rallies for too long. It was time to give this place the attention and respect it deserves.

It was fun to hear the evolution of the riding out there. They would tell stories of how one day someone tried this line, or saw this, or built a little transition, and their eyes were opened a bit more. It’s interesting that they have both ended up on rigid singlespeed bikes as the tool of choice.

I could see the advantage in some places, like this (above) super-control move staircase that Dan smoothed, and I didn’t even try. But overall I was really impressed with what they could ride, especially with only one gear.

I was able to make a couple small contributions to the evolution, cleaning a few uphill moves they had never seen done (like the above section). 20×36 granny – thumbs up!

photo by Eric Nelson

Eying a tight squeeze… with my narrow bars it should be a piece of cake…

photo by Eric Nelson

Or not! I scraped and double bruised the arm I had crashed on in the Whiskey. D’oh!

Amazingly there is a rideable line all the way down the Dam’s spillway. Without Eric showing me said line I would have never pieced it together. Awesome.

Clear and crisp… just a beautiful day.

That’s the bridge from the cover on the Prescott Trail map that was in the Whiskey packet. Much harder to ride (corner) than it looks.

There’s so much more out there… we covered maybe a third of it in 3 hours and only logged 5 miles on the GPS. The abuse to the body was profound. I actually felt really good while riding, but on the drive home and the next day I paid for it. A price I would gladly pay again to ride with like-minded riders in such an amazing place.

Awesome weekend, from start to finish. I love Prescott.