Race Report: Trek CXC Day One

119, 120, 122,.... 129. As the race official gave us the "two-minute warning, ladies", my downward gaze caught the heart rate read-out on my computer. Standing perfectly still, seconds away from my first elite women's start of the 2014 season, my body new what was up.

I was seated in the tenth position, not quite the first row, but likely my highest call-up in a Category 1 race. I didn't want to waste the opportunity, but my body and my pedals had a different plan. As the gun went off, I was slightly slow on the jump, and I struggled to clip-in to my left pedal for the entire straight-away, finally finding it just before the grass line demarking the start of the real fun. At which point I was almost dead last.

Within seconds I was able to power through the middle of a clump of ladies, speed past others in the next straightaway, and make it into the first couple of turns mid-pack. I came in hot to the next technical turn, and a traffic jam caused by the upcoming series of off-cambor switch-backs. The tread on my front tire bit into the dry, clumping grass, and I somersaulted over the handle-bars, jamming up those behind. I scrambled back to my bike, once again nearly off the back of the pack. Not the dream start I had been hoping for.

Immediately after this section, there was a particularly gnarly off-cambor, downhill, S-curve on the side of a steep incline followed almost immediately by a "run-up" back up the same hill. Several attempts at riding the downhill in practice left me in the dirt, and so I had resolved to use those running legs of mine to sprint through this entire section. That strategy played to my favor on this lap, as I was able to pass on the inside of riders slowly maneuvering there way down. Then just before the run-up, a woman in front of me went sprawling, taking out the riders in front and beside her and blocking on-coming traffic. In the words of my friend Heidi spectating from the side-lines, I was able to leap "gazelle-like over the crash" and spring up the run-up. Later in the race, I would be heckled fro this strategy, "it's faster if you pedal." To which I called out, "I'll race you!" That got a few hoots and hollers form the sidelines.

The rest of that next lap was a blur, my blood-pumping hard in my eyeballs, as I powered through every straightaway, seeing the front of the race already gapped way ahead. By the time I came around the pits, I was back into 16th, but with a lot of work to do.

The race was so strung out at this point. For the next three laps, I caught and passed one-rider at a time. But I also was struggling with the hot, dry, bumpy conditions. My lips were stuck to my gums, and sweat poured down my back. And I couldn't seem to to keep my bike upright in the turns. Three more times I would go down.  Including one that sealed my position in the race.

With two laps, to go, I could see a pack of three women ahead of me. I thought with enough effort I could bridge to them in time for the last lap. The series of off-cambor switchbacks that had been my favorite part of the course in practice, but trouble in the opening lap, proved again to be my nemesis. I took a corner just a tad too tight, too aggressive. Not being able to throw the back wheel around the corner to carry my high-center of gravity momentum in a whip like I'm used to, the wheels cut and slid, and I went down hard. I bounced back up, but I had bent the derailleur on the part of the course farthest from the pit, and shifting became a bit of a problem. Besides that, ten seconds had gone by, and now the pack of three was out of reach.

I used the final lap and a half to smoothly transition around corners, over barriers, and keep myself well ahead of the next woman to finally finish in 11th. I maybe could have done better, but I bet if I check my results from last year, that finish might be one of my highest placings in a Category 1 race. I'll take it.

For an account of the race from the front of the pack (someday.....) Check out CXmagazine, and of course race pics and pictures will be posted soon at the race site.

Goodread: Why is Orange the New Black?

"You need toothpaste?" Listening to Piper Kerman tell her story at the Maryville Talks Books last night, I couldn't help but wonder what my reaction would be to this question if, on the first day of a prison sentence, someone approached and asked it of me. I would probably wonder if I had heard them right. Wonder if it was a loaded or leading question meant to distract the naive newbie before emotional or bodily harm was inflicted, rather than the first of many gentle offers of friendship and concern that, according to Piper, perpetuate the prisoner community. After a minute, I stopped wondering, and I just listened. To one woman's successful attempt to make the sweetest of all lemonades from a truckload of lemons and how she has been campaigning ever since that truckload arrived to help other women in the prison system do the same.

I wasn't actually going to go to the lecture and book signing. I have a platform, too, just like Ms. Kerman. She didn't just talk about the book and the show. Instead, she passionately lectured about the role that race, gender, socioeconomic status play in sentencing, likelihood of ending up in prison, the length of the sentence, and whether a person would serve multiple prison terms, specifically as it applied to women. I frequently speak about people's access to affordable, high-quality food regardless of race, gender, and socioeconomic status. But, in watching the Netflix show, Orange is the New Black, which is loosely based on Ms. Kerman's book by the same name, I witness many instances of anti-GMO slander, and in one utterly blatant exchange between two characters - mind you, two women who are in prison for committing crimes - in which one says to the other, "I wouldn't want to work for one of those evil companies like Monsanto...." at which point I turned off the TV.

At some point, months later, I turned the TV back on and finished watching the season. And it took an invitation from a friend, and my own predilection for researching things before I decided that it would be well worth my time to attend. And it was. But, I couldn't leave the long book-signing line without saying just a few things - an elevator speech, if you will.

When it was my turn (and my friend's) turn to approach Piper at the table and get our picture taken with her. I started by saying "That was a wonderful lecture. I am glad I came, but... I almost didn't."

"Oh?"

"Well, I looked you up on the internet and read about your platform."

"I guess you can believe some of the things you read on the internet."

"Yes, but, before I did that, all I knew about you and your book was the show, and you see, I work really hard as a scientist for Monsanto Company, to ensure that those same people you fight for also have access to affordable, high-quality food."

"Yes, the show isn't very nice about your company."

"Maybe you could ask the producer to take it easy on us."

"Hmmm....."

And that was it. Actually, then she took a picture with us (all smiling!) in which I look like the Jolly Green Giant next to a seated Ms. Kerman and my standing friend, who is all of 5'4" (just imagine it). And I have a new book to read. I'm pretty sure I know how this one ends.

Sentimental Sunday - Race Report from Day 1 of Cincy3 2014

New friends, great home stay, mud, mud, mud, and my first Top-10 finish of the season.

It started poorly. My travel buddy/ pit crew/ mental support got a new "real job" and told me he was unable to go with me to the race two days before we were meant to leave. He came through big time in another way! while I was planning contingencies and sending emails to the race director about potential home stays, he was getting his bike race-ready for me to have in the pit and calling the race director to find me a home stay and a pit crew.  The director put him in touch with the same family that had hosted numerous pro men's teams (!) and would now be hosting and pitting for little me... And, as it turns out, one of my closest competitors and aforementioned-in-this-blog women's cycling heroes, Beth Ann Orton (who also happens to have a new blog home for the new cyclocross season).

Part 1, my first race on Friday Cincy3 @ Devou. The course looked hilly and technical. Muddy from earlier rains and racers. Lots of off-camber up and downhill turns, twisty sections, barriers that came right after a hard right turn (try dismounting on the left side while leaning to the far right).  Oh, and lest we forget the gravel and concrete walkway crossing the course that had developed something of a rim-denting ditch on the approach. That thing was damn near unavoidable.

The start was meant to be challenging. An uphill concrete section that immediately narrowed into the trees and a descending angle downhill turn with some sort of acorn or gumball under-tread.  I made it fine through it, but then I tried to cut to far to the left on the slippery S-curve uphill and found myself tangled in the tape. I could feel a few of the ladies mentally cursing me, but then I watched another racer do the same thing in the middle of the course ahead of me. See, not so easy, I told myself!

The rest of the race went much the same way. I jumped off and ran the slipperiest of the uphills, losing a little in the mount at the top, but gaining from already being in a hard gear for the inevitable downhill that came immediately after.  On one of the sharper turns, I threw a long leg out on every go around and managed to save enough speed to gain two-three bike lengths on my nearest competitor on each lap. I was in 12th-13th and then without me passing anyone, a friend in the pit yelled that I was in 10th! I didn't know if he was right or not, but I'ld be damned if I was going to let anyone pass me if it was true.

With one woman close behind, I entered the final lap. Knowing she was a better sprinter, I decided to lay it on thick in a few of the corners. Too thick, it happened, in one of the corners, but because she was on my line, we both ended up sliding out, both quick to pop back up. She gained on me when I had to run up one of the ascents (note to self, get mudder tires), but then we were at my Go-Go-Gadget leg section. I laid it out to the side so far, I thought I was going to clip a pedal. That proved just enough to record my first UCI top-10 finish!

Part II... To be continued. 

Race Report: First UCI race of the season.

October 12, 2013 Colorado Cross Cup

Any excuse to travel to Boulder. And this time, I had many reasons. My best friends' 1st born! (Technically, I went hiking with him, he was in the womb). And two days of UCI Elite Cyclocross. Sadly, it was also the first races following Amy D.'s tragic death during a training ride. I felt sick the day I found out.

This also would be my first UCI races of the season, nothing like jumping in with the best in the country on their home turf. But, I think I raised a few eyebrows with my racing. Most of all, mine.

I pre-rode the Colorado Cross Cup course at the Res as the sun was setting behind the Flatirons. Amber warned me to watch out for goatheads. Not having every seen one, that proved difficult. And, I was ultimately unsuccessful. I took two or three pseudolaps or the freshly set course and managed to crash three times. I had enough and headed back to Amber and Eric's place on squishy tires. That night, Eric would help me seal both my front and back tires from the goathead punctures.

Taking an outside line on the first turn... I think that is called "Svenness"!
(Courtesy Mt. Moon Photography)

One of those 100 turns per lap.  To everything...
(Courtesy Mt. Moon Photography).

The race: I started on the back row of the UCI Elite Women's race. In pictures of the start (which I can not find just now; post a link if you've found one) you can see my helmet sticking up in the distance (one of these is taller than the others). I had a great start. I think there was a crash on the inside line just as we left the pavement that allowed me to propel myself into the top-20. I was instantly trying to breath out of my eyeballs as oxygen debt set-in.

But, I was having too much fun to let off the gas. The course had what felt like a 100 turns per lap, and with the dry, gritty conditions, contact between the tire tread and ground could not be taken for granted. I kept grinding, into the teens, then just out of the top-10. I could hear my name being cheered on so many parts of the course, as I crossed the line in 11th!

At the finish, I rolled in between two cars and threw-up my lunch, and then, I cracked a smile. What a blast of a race! My reward was an authentic Belgian Waffle (food truck cuisine!) and an UpSlope IPA!

What cyclocross season?

A quick look at my blog, and I have been remiss. I have not mentioned a word about the most amazing cyclocross season. All the support I received at the races, the cool people I met and got to know, the places I traveled and had never been (Cincinnati, Ashville), not to mention a certain starts and stripes jersey that will soon adorn the wall of my home office. I have stories. Boy, do I have stories. And I will post them. For anyone who might even be remotely interested. As the temperatures hit single digits around here, and I am forced to run, achingly slowly at first, on a treadmill, I have lots of time to reminesce. And so I shall recount the races and travels from the perspective of my tiny corner of the CX universe.

Would you like to hear it?

Quinoa Lasagna - Sunny-style

Now, keep in mind that I am a scientist.  I am "okay" at following protocols, but I am even better at optimizing them and getting them to work for me in my kitchen, with results and tastes that suit me and my health choices (or lack there of - ahem - shortening). Occasionally this leads to flaming failures, but once in a while, as in the case of the recipe below, what comes out of the oven is an instant classic, a recipe so yummy it must be shared and shared again with other self-proclaimed foodie scientists and kitchen commandos.

A few months ago, I walked into my boyfriend's work to pick up our dog on the way home. He handed me a recipe from one of his co-workers saying, "Here, Andy and his wife made this last night and it struck them so strongly that we would enjoy this dish, too, that they printed off the recipe for us and gave it to me." It was a recipe for Quinoa Lasagna, origin unknown. If a "healthy" recipe in which quinoa is substituted for the lasagna noodles among other modifications reminds and inspires our friends in such a manner, then my work here is done!

I went home that very night and made the lasagna. I had to make a few modifications, not having everything on the ingredient list. But I had enough of the important things to make a good go of it. And it was every bit as delicious as Andy purported, and an instant addition to the cluttered drawer I refer to as my recipe book.

So without further ado, I give you Quinoa Lasagna - Sunny-style.

See the ingredient list for potential substitutions.

Bring water and quinoa to a boil in a medium saucepan. Reduce to a simmer, cover and cook for 15’. Fluff with a fork.

While that is going, heat oil in a saucepan on medium heat. Add the onions; cook until transparent and starting to brown. Add the mushrooms; cook until mushrooms are softened and very little moisture remains in the pan. Add the garlic and tomato sauce. Stir occasionally until hot. Set aside.

Preheat the oven to 350 °C. Lightly grease a 13x9 inch casserole dish or spray with cooking oil (I prefer veggie oil, but olive oil or coconut oil will do the job, too)

In a medium bowl, combine the cottage cheese with the egg. Mix well, stir in the parmesan, basil, and oregano.

Blanch first the zuccinni and then the kale (if you are using it instead of spinach) in boiling water for a few minutes, strain and pat dry.

Start your layering. Evenly spread the cooked quinoa in the casserole dish.  Spread one-third of the tomato sauce over the quinoa. Make a layer of all the zucchini, then all the cottage cheese mixture, then one-third of the tomato sauce, then all the spinach, ending with the remainder of the tomato sauce. Spread the mozzarella cheese evenly over the top.

Bake for about 35 minutes, until the lasagna is hot and the cheese is melted, bubbling and slightly browned around the edges. Serve (or wrap up and hide it in the fridge away from your guests and boyfriend so you can keep it all to yourself).

Serves 8 (or two for three meals)

2 cups 500 ml) water

1 cup (250 ml) quinoa

2 tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil

1 cup (250 ml) chopped onions

1 cup (250 ml) sliced button mushrooms. I substituted sliced carrots and it was perfect. Use whatever root or earthy vegetable you can slice up from the fridge.

2 cloves garlic, minced

3-4 cups (~500 ml) your favorite prepared sauce. I used a combo of leftover sphaghetti sauces from the fridge, and when I didn’t have enough of that, I combined one 6 oz. can of tomato paste and 6 oz. water.  In reality, the dish requires 4 cups of sauce, scrimp if you only have three.

2 cups (500 ml) cottage cheese

1 large beaten egg

¼ cup (60 ml) grated parmesan cheese. Fun hint – I had shredded parmesan that I put in my coffee grinder to get a good grate, and it worked great J

2 tbsp (30 ml) minced basil (fresh or dried, no matter)

1 tbsp (15 ml) dried oregano

2 cups (500 ml) zucchini (essentially 1 medium zucchini)

2 cups (500 ml) packed fresh spinach. I substituted kale here, and I will keep doing it. Blanche the kale for 2-3 minutes in boiling water. Blot dry with a paper towel before layering on the lasagna, stays firm, and adds it coarse and slightly sweeter flavor/texture combo to this great dish.

1 ½ cups (375 ml) shredded mozzarella – in a pinch, colby jack works as a good substitute.

Race Report: Berryman Adventure Race

Fraternizing with the "enemy" pre-race.

In the warm predawn of Saturday morning, somewhere in the Mark Twain National Forest just East of Fort Leonard Wood and the Big Piney River in South-Central Missouri, a group of 150-odd adventure racers with head lamps on, stood looking every which way under the inflatable arch of Bonk Hard Racing, LLC, awaiting the start of the 2013 Berryman Adventure 12-hour, a real ass-kicker.

Our four-person coed team, 34Down, had now been together for a year. The 2012 Berryman Adventure Race had been our first race together. It was bittersweet to be racing without one of our own (Jason welcomed a son into the world just last week, and therefore was excused), but Jay, an outdoor adventure veteran in every sense of the word and all-around cool guy, offered to step right in, pretend that he was 34 years old for a day, and run around in the woods with us.

Now, Gary, megaphone in hand, counted down from three, and then we all scattered in the general direction we had been looking. 34Down headed back into the parking lot, passed the Honey Buckets, and jumped immediately into the tall grass, up to our waists (Jay’s shoulders).  No one followed us. Jeff surged ahead, and within two minutes we popped out onto a single-track trail paralleling the road.  Another team came out of the grass onto the trail just behind us. Less than two minutes later, we left the trail, headed for the hills and our first planned checkpoint (CP). One minute later, we were thigh deep (Jay’s waist) in shoe-sucking marsh water, and I wondered if I was going to have to do the rest of the race in my socks.

And that was just the first five minutes. Jeff took us up onto a spur, and we fanned out across a clearing looking for the first CP. I had the passport, and I swept my headlamp in a full circle hoping to catch the reflective tape on the otherwise orange and white flag that indicated our target. Nothing. Jeff looked at the map and led us down a reentrant and onto the next spur, where we found the trail again. Not good. We had been on the right spur. We took the trail back around to approach the spur from the top and came practically face-to-face with the CP. Sometimes that is how it goes.  We shook it off and checked off the next four CPs in quick succession.

A racer's sock covered in Beggar-lice (mine
my teammates were similarly besnaggled).

We came out of the woods, peppered in Beggar-lice (and as time would tell, tick-bombs), but near the front of the pack. At our bikes, we packed in our new kayak paddles, donned helmets and cycling shoes, and plunged back into the woods once more. The first CP on the bike confounded us a little as it was buried deep in a beautiful “natural tunnel”. I had already taken off my headlamp, so I fumbled with it before I could negotiate the darkness. Not immediately clear on where the trail went from there (and NO Bike-Whacking allowed, as per race directors instructions), Josh suggested there was a trail on top of the tunnel, and I led our exit stage left through the tunnel, and onto the trail.

The single track was rocky and sandy in turns, with unrideable uphills, and washed out sections of little rocks we quickly dubbed “Pop Rocks” for their ability to suck all of our momentum and pop us off our bikes. The rest of the bike went by in a blur as we came out on the road and made our way to the Big Piney River bank.

At the riverside, we found ourselves in second! This section required us to put the bikes in the canoes. So while, Jeff and Josh carried boats to the riverside, Jay and I put together our shiny new paddles that were supposed to make us uber-fast in the water. And I suppose they did (no one passed us on the river), but I still felt like I was paddling with toothpicks (my arms). Josh was having a little trouble in the back of our boat; the bikes were too close in front of him, and he was forced to sit on the back of the boat to get the full benefit of his long arms and paddle stroke.

We heard a team come close to us, but they opted to beach the boats and go for two “FREE” CPs by riding their bikes up a river road. We thought it might be faster to paddle almost the entire seven miles to the other side of the peninsula and then trek for the free CPs after beaching the boats across from the takeout. There was no question that we would go get them (they were worth two points each). As we left the boats, I asked if we were going to take our packs. Jay and Jeff insisted that we should (duh they have our race numbers on them), and it was a good thing we did. One of the CPs was a gear check!

At this point, Jay and I were trekking behind Jeff and Josh as they navigated us through a sea of stinging nettle, tiptoeing and sashaying like uncoordinated ballerinas.  As we skirted the contour of a particularly heinous uphill, I almost stepped on a turtle just as Jeff called from ahead, anyone want a deer skull? But, it was the hive of yellow jackets that we encountered next that I would have loved to miss. Both Jay and I got bit, both of us yelling in surprise and pain.

Back in the boats, I ran straight into the river to cool the hornet bite on my leg (through my leggings). The others thought this was a good idea, and jumped in too, Jay even dragged/guided both boats from the water across the shallow river to the take-out. Once on the beach, we reattired our helmets and bike shoes, and rode our bikes up the biggest hill, granny gears all the way.

Eventually we came to another riverside where we dropped our bikes, chugged cokes and trail mix out of our gear bag, reloaded on water (we had been at it for ~five hours), and mapped the next big O-section.  Team Fusion/Kuat was just leaving the CP in first place. Looking around for a flat spot to map on, Jeff pulled down the tailgate of an ancient Chevy truck that looked like it had been abandoned there a long time ago. The volunteers informed us that the front of the truck had caught on fire earlier that morning, and the owner had just rolled it out of the way and left it there, so maybe “a long time ago” wasn’t exactly accurate. Maybe it should have been. As we mapped, I noticed a foul smell tickling my nose. The area was swampy and marshy, and probably recently flooded, but it wasn’t until one of the volunteers mentioned duck heads did I place the smell. Apparently, the area had been littered with animal carcasses/pieces when the volunteers arrived and they had had to tidy it up. That is above and beyond.

Jeff took a few minutes to study the map, and then commented, “This is going to take a while”. Between every CP and us was a sea of tightly spaced contour lines, indicating the ups and downs we were about to experience. And we were tested. We did not see a single other team in the woods until we were heading to our last CP in the section, Bushwacker and the inimitable Rachel Furman passed us going the other way. We also found another yellow jacket nest. This time, I received two stings, one in the arm and one in the back. The one in the arm seemed to simultaneously seer and put my arm to sleep! But, Jeff was dynamite, and before long and still in full daylight we arrived at the riverside for a second paddle. And we were in first!

PIcture

All four of us jumped into the river bodily before floating the boats into the rapids. Almost immediately we were faced with a tricky section filled will half submerged trees and debris. Years of paddling experience between the four of us (I may not have brawn, but I can keep a boat afloat), we moved through it quickly. Paddling might be simultaneously my most and least favorite section. Josh kept my spirits up and the boat moving rapidly forward. It wasn’t long before we were paddling along glassy expanses, and Jef and Jay helped us out with a short tow. Rather than singing "row, row, row your boat, we tried to remember and sing off key the refrain to “Some Nights” by Fun. I asked Jeff if he thought we might be close, and he called out (as he is apt to do) the chorus to Disney’s Pocahontas “Just around the river bend!” The sky had been threatening rain since “lunch”, and halfway through the paddle, a warm steady rain began to pour down.

It was about this time in the race that we could almost taste the cheesy potatoes and BBQ chicken that we thought surely must have been delivered to the finish line by then. And we were sure that once we exited the boats, we would be told to hop on our bikes, and head back to the start/finish for a victory celebration. Bonk Hard had other plans.

We were handed another course to plot at the paddle take out, and my heart sank as I saw eight CPs listed, including three “FREE” CPs this time. Jeff pulled down the same tailgate once more to map, I chugged another coke and we divvied up the remainder of our water between the four of us, emptying every last drop into our packs. I had sucked my bladder dry during the paddle, so I was happy to onboard another liter. With night falling, Jeff plotted our course in the rain, making ghostly red watermarks on the map in the general vicinity of the CP.  I packed the non-water proof clue sheet in a sandwich bag previously occupied by a PB&J.  Just then the truck owner came ambling up. We apologized for using his truck, but he absolutely cared little, instead starting to tell us the storied history of the earlier fire. We politely listened as we finished up the mapping, and soon he turned his attention to the business of getting his truck “fired up”. As we rode out of the transition we heard behind us, “It’s a good thing we brought the fire extinguisher. Keep it close by.”

It was still daylight, but we knew that would end soon.  We would be forced to do our first ever night navigation to finish the longest adventure race any of us had ever done.  Our strength was waning, but our resolve was strong as ever, and at each CP we would decide to keep going. Navigation on the bike is tricky enough without night falling, but a lot of the CPs were on unmapped roads or off-trail a couple hundred yards. I knew something was up as I approached one in particular. According to Jeff, the CP was “just ahead on the saddle” adjacent to a feature called the “King’s Sink”. As I approached it, passport in hand, my energy faltered. The sign on the CP read, “the punch for this CP is at the bottom of the deep depression to the East”. And an arrow, pointing east. I called out to the guys, “Hey, you’re going to want to come check this out!” Good sports that they all are, Jeff called back, “Is it cool?” as he and Jay came down the hill. “You might not think so.”

Did I mention they were good sports? They accompanied me down into the deep depression, using trees like climbing ropes to repel us down what felt like a vertical slope of loose soil. And just like the sign said, there was the CP, at the very bottom of the deep depression. Climbing out was no picnic, but as I approached the guys, I called out, “Race you to the top!” and we all took off scrambling.

Darkness was falling quickly, but the rain had for the most part ceased. The next CP was three kilometers out of our way, at the end of a road and off the beaten path. The clue suggested it was near a small pond, and as we reached the end of the road and found the edge of a farmer’s field, we realized that the rain had turned every dip in the proceeding jeep trail into a small pond.  We did our best to skirt the big puddles, taking furtive glances at the gorgeous sunset, and trying to maintain speed. One puddle came up to fast for Jay, and he went in up to his hubs.  We found the CP practically in the pond, banks swollen with rain. The rest of our ride would be in darkness.

Riding along the trail back to the road, the beams of our headlamps on the ground became our focus. Two teams came in hot pursuit up the trail as we were exiting, and we knew we had to see this one through to the bitter end.  The next CP came on singletrack.  Mountain biking at night is hard enough without having to navigate, but Jeff was really going above and beyond. We ran into a couple of teams going back and forth along the trail looking for the same CP.  We were looking for the second of two hills off to the right that came after a deep reentrant as we climbed up to a ridge.  I tried to help out by turning off my headlamp and looking through the trees for sky and stars that would indicate we were going past the reentrant.  At the same time I spotted the sky, Jeff let us know that we should be about there and pointed into the darkness. Thankfully it was close to the trail, but as I punched the passport, I was plunged into darkness, and a momentary stillness and sensory-deprivation swept over me.  <shudder!>

We rode on, Jay illuminating the way for all four of us with his 300+ lumen lamp.  We kept looking at the clock, not wanting to get too close to the 10:30 race cutoff, but not wanting to leave any CPs out on the course, either. But as the minutes ticked by, and the miles didn’t, we had to face the fact that we were not going to make it to the last CPs. We held a 34Down summit on the trail near one of the connectors to the road, the finish, and the cheesy potatoes to discuss the prospect of calling it a night. We were all in agreement. It had been a great day filled with firsts and adversity, but it was time finish.

We came in with ~45 minutes to spare. We had to wait until all teams finished, and the 10:30 PM mark passed to see if we had cleared the most CPs.  After 14 hours and 52 minutes of racing and 36 checkpoints (out of a possible 38) cleared, we had won the Berryman Adventure Race, a real ass-kicker.

34Down - Berryman Adventure Champs 2013

Huge thanks to my "enemy" Doug for building such a sweet mountain bike for me to ride, to my teammates for being such good sports, to the Bonk Hard organizers for laying down such an amazing course the was equal parts fun and ass-kicking, and to all the volunteers who kept us safe and organized out there! Picture credits also to the volunteers, spectators, and race organizers.