I had an 'okay' race this year at the Furnace Creek 508. Before the race, I was clocking my usual time trials a full minute faster than last year at the same time. I was very encouraged and very excited about this race. I was thinking that there was a possibility that I might break the record.
We all gathered at the startline. It was a little chilly and very windy. I reminisced about 1991 when it was so windy in Panamint Valley that I my crew couldn't see me because of the sand. The race started at 7:00; we rolled out and chatted during the neutral first fifteen miles of the race. My crew: Andrew Bohannon, April Frederick and Carole Weiss, were busy tending to crew matters. I saw them later on up the road.
We had a tailwind up San Francisquito Cyn; I held 5-6 position at the top. I am a good climber but not great. In the spirit of the race totems, Adrian Harris wore a hog nose up this climb. My crew placed bets on how long it would be before he would jettison the nose (imagine the snot accumulation!). It was gone before the top.
The descent was great as long as the wind stayed at our backs. The turn onto Spunky Canyon proved to be treacherous. The cross wind was so strong my bike jerked underneath me in the gusts. I am pretty much a wimp when it comes to doing anything where I might get hurt. I slowed to a snail's pace out of fear. I stopped to remove my aero wheels (I never put them back on). I grumbled at poor Andrew for not getting the new wheel installed in 2 seconds. I was in a pretty bad mood because of the wind. It was frustrating that I could not take advantage of my strength on the flats out to the 'windmill' climb.
Like last year, the climb to the windmills was into a fierce headwind. The course turns toward CA where the tailwind was fun. Of course, it did not last. At CA city the course takes a turn and again, strong, strong crosswinds. I was getting a little more brave in the wind; I could put a little more power into the pedals without freaking out. I traded positions several times with Mark and Cindi on the tandem. They are a rockin' team! They came blasting by me on the descents and in the wind on the flats, I would pass them. Finally, before the turn to Johannasberg, I began to catch and pass other riders besides the tandems. I passed Peter Pop and Bill Brown. I was closing on Adrian. His crew must have told him because he went up the Johannasberg climb in a blistering pace. I could always see him but he was opening the gap and continued to open it on the descent. Peter caught me on the descent and I in turn passed him before Trona
Trona, the land of eternal chemicals. The biologists studying the mutant frogs in Minnesota should come here for clues. Every year I do this race, these chemicals make me ill. In '93 I vomitted and dropped out of the race; last year I had to ride the fine line between bonk and vomit for the remainder of the race. This year was no exception. I had planned to wear a mask but I forgot to get one; I had a bandana in the van that I didn't use. Does the word 'idiot' pop in mind?
We had a screaming tailwind up Panamint Valley; this was a nice treat. Last year there was a crosswind and it took a lot longer to traverse the valley. Thanks to my SUS21 front road suspension fork, the teeth jarring 5-7 miles section of this valley was easier for me this year.
On the climb to Towne Pass, sweat dripped from my upper lip into my mouth. It tasted horrible! I think I was injesting borax. That climb is always hard but for the last half there was a tailwind which made it a little more bearable.
The descent was fun. I was only a few minutes off last year's pace at this time. The tailwinds made up for the time I lost dogging it in the earlier crosswinds. The sun set as I descended into Stove Pipe Wells.
The wind whipped up the sand. The headlights illuminated the clouds as they flew erraticially across the road. The blasting of the sand made me think to cancel my dermabrasion appointment. I was developing a skill at leaning into the sandy crosswind though I still had a death grip on the handle bars. Several times I had to brake because I was too nervous riding so fast in the cross wind. My stomach was becoming upset but I tried to ignore it. I could see the lights of several riders as I approached Furnace Creek. Currently I was off last year's pace as my fear in the crosswinds slowed me.
I passed Adrian at Furnace Creek, he was hard to catch. Everytime I got close to him earlier in the race, he sped up. In Death Valley, I new I would catch and pass a few people. I saw four sets of lights; two sets closer and one farther and another farther yet. I was in fifth position at the time so I could see everyone in front of me. I was closing pretty quickly on the closest: I passed 'panda'. Up a little farther was another rider, this guy was kind of a jerk. At least four times in the Valley, I caught him, passed his truck, got alongside him, then he'd hammer. He was a pain-in-the-neck to be near.
As I progressed farther down Death Valley I became more and more ill. Just before the Jubilee climb, fireworks (deja vous). I emptied my stomach and filled my stomach alternately as I climbed Jubilee Salisbury. My crew gave me some Pepto-Bismal. The funny part, they later remarked, was that I didn't lose a pedal stroke through all this. In fact, Adrian and 'panda' were threatening at one point but I managed to open a pretty good gap even though the puke was flying.
I passed John Williams at the summit, I was now in third position. On the descent, I new I was in trouble when it felt like my stomach was going to reject the PB. I stopped. I was shaking from the cold but mostly from low blood sugar. I had not had any nutrition or liquid for over two hours and I was climbing for most of that time.
My crew was terrific. I was ready to quit (I have to work on this tendency) but they didn't even entertain the thought. We, together, tried to think of things that I could keep down. We tried bread and water, that didn't hold; we tried baby cookies and water, that didn't hold. April brought some fruit punch flavored Gatorade and I tried that; that stayed. I drank more. April and Andrew massaged me and tried to keep me warm while Carole washed bottles and poured more Gatorade. Panda passed, John passed then Adrian passed. I stayed there for about an hour and forty five minutes. I tried to get on the bike once but couldn't make myself do it. I went back to the van in defeat; I was convinced that this was it, DNF. I said to myself, 'You have to try at least one more time; give it your best shot.''. I did and I was able to stay on the bike.
I drank Gatorade exclusively for the first hour or so. I was running out of muscle glycogen so I had to try something else. I asked the crew to mix a bottle of carbo with only one scoop (this is about half strength). I was able to keep that down so I asked them to increase the solution to full strength. They began to feed me small pieces of bagel and power bars. I had a little Met-Rx thrown in here and there. This sustained me for the rest of the race. I became very dehydrated as I was afraid to drink anything that might upset my stomach, including water (I stopped only twice to pee the whole race.).
When I started again after my long stop, I was in sixth position and I figured at least two hours back. I rode as hard as I could. After Baker, I could see five sets of lights on the Kel-Baker climb, I was closing! I caught and passed panda who was stopped on the side of the road wrapped in a sleeping bag. The climb took two hours, so I figured at that point I was only two hours off the lead and about an hour behind the rest. Looking down the hill, 'panda' was no where in sight, which put him at least an hour back (he was in bad shape).
Historically, I lose time on the last two climbs and I think the stats will show the same this year. I passed Charlie just outside of Amboy. We rode together for about 10 minutes each telling our horror stories of vomit. His crew made him stay on the bike and he looked a mess; at this point I was thankful for our decision to stop to recover.
The last stretch after the Sheep Holy-Moly climb was pure hell. I was dehydrated and my color had turn to grey. I looked dead. The wind was coming from 2 o'clock so it was a constant battle. About 15 miles from the end, 'panda' passed and was riding so freshly that I thought he was a team. Remarkable recovery. I stopped about ten miles from the end and sobbed; I felt like I was never going to get there. This stop was short but necessary; I needed the hugs and encouragement from my crew.
I crossed the finishline almost three hours slower than last year. I was disappointed and full of coulda-shoulda-wouldas. I cannot help it, it is my nature to beat myself mentally when I do not perform to my expectations. I was first in the women's division and sixth overall with a time of 31:24.
Rainer and his strict by-the-book crew chief, Merial Jackson, greeted me at the line. I told Rainer that now I will have to come back next year to try to reclaim the record! (Maybe I should try gummy bears and marshmellows.).
Again, Chris Kostman deserves an applause for his excellent race organization.
ps:
I rode my Bianchi Ti Mega tube and my Bianchi EL bikes the entire
race. These bikes are equiped with Campagnolo components and Shamal
wheels. Both Bianchi and Campy have been my sponsors for years and
deserve recognition and patronage. (While I am at it, I always use
Michelin tires).