Tour de Park City
August 1, 2009
August 1, 2009
The peloton was cruising at a comfortable 20-23 mph along the rolling Chalk Creek road. Psssssss. A rider near me flatted and was quickly out the back of the peloton. Even with a quick wheel change from the following wheel car he was unlikely to return to the protection of the group. He would now have to fight the head and crosswinds on his own or with others unfortunate enough to lose contact with the peloton. With over 130 miles remaining in the race this was a daunting thought.
The morning was brisk with the mountain valley temperatures creeping down into the upper 40’s despite that fact that it was August. I donned arm warmers and a vest to get me through the cool morning hours, and I was immediately glad I chose to do so. Even in the confines of the peloton, where I was sheltered by other riders, it was a bone chilling start to the race.
Nobody was in a hurry as we weaved through the back roads of Park City, UT. The fact that we were embarking on a 170+ mile course, including the ascension of Bald Mountain Pass on the Mirror Lake Highway, may have had something to do with it. With over 100 miles before the big climb I settled into the middle of the peloton and tried to conserve as much energy as possible.
Three days prior to the race I had no intention of being there. My big goal for the season was still the 206 mile race from Logan, UT to Jackson Hole, WY (LOTOJA). After installing a new tile roof on my house, getting sick, and then hurting my back I was, to say the least, a little behind in my training. I had not felt prepared to take on this challenging Park City course. However, on Wednesday afternoon an email came across the Porcupine Team list-serve. One of my teammates was going to be unable to race and was offering his spot to anyone that wanted it since he could no longer receive a refund. I figured that since it was free I could drop out at any point without to much concern and chalk it up as a good training ride. So I took him up on his offer. It was convincing reasoning, but my brain failed to argue the point that I would never feel comfortable to simply quit a race.
After riding through Park City on various side streets we worked our way toward the Wyoming border on frontage roads and lesser used highways. We reached the first feed zone a little before Coalville, UT. With about 70 riders in the peloton the race referee told everyone to go neutral through the feed zone. Riders slowed and began grabbing water bottles from the gracious volunteers on the side of the road. As I passed through the feed zone I looked ahead to see the peloton strung out with the riders at the front already back up to the original pace. I guess in the Category 4 peloton “neutral” only applies as long as you are getting your food and water. Everything came back together, but needless energy was wasted.
As is often the case in a long race such as this, many riders felt the need for a nature break. Riders started yelling to ask for approval from the group to take this much desired furlough. Unfortunately, for the rest of us the riders at the front decided to hit the brakes and stop before the rest of the peloton was aware that such a break was taking place. Pads locked on rims, tires skidded, riders weaved and maneuvered in every way possible to avoid crashing into one another. Luckily, we were all able to come through this one without any major harm done. Sometimes I feel like I need to train extra hard and upgrade to a higher category just so I can ride with people that use common sense. I won’t even go into how riders repeatedly crossed the center line on open roads with oncoming traffic.
We entered the small city of Coalville and the leaders of the peloton promptly missed an important right turn. The back of the peloton became the front and we resumed our progression toward Wyoming on narrow country farm roads. After weaving through the countryside we made a right turn onto Chalk Creek road. With wider and smoother pavement the pace increased and we began a series of rolling hills.
The temperature was warming. So, I removed my vest and arm warmers. As I did this I saw my friend Eric hand his extra clothing to someone in a support vehicle on the side of the road. I thought this was an excellent idea. I proceeded to toss mine to the next group of people I saw on the side of the road while asking them to bring my clothes back to the finish. They said yes, but in retrospect I’m not 100% sure they were even involved with the race. Needless to say, I didn’t pass the test of making quick decisions on the road, and I haven’t seen my arm warmers and vest since they left my hand. It turns out that I had to pay my race fee after all. I guess there are no free rides in the Tour de Park City.
We continued up Chalk Creek. Multiple riders experienced the morale deflating sounds of air escaping from their tires. Cyclists that have done any significant amount of racing have been in that position at one time or another. Most riders immediately feel great empathy for those left behind due to a mechanical problem rather than a lack of strength. I’ve been there, and I felt the empathy.
A little farther down the road there was another hiss of air escaping rubber. This time it was very close me. This time it was me. My race was over at a mere 45 miles. With a little more than 125 miles remaining I immediately knew that I was going to have a long day ahead of me. I would now be required to work almost entirely on my own. I fixed the flat in about 3-4 minutes, but I would never see the front of the peloton again. I never even saw a wheel car even though I was with the lead group on the road. It’s a good thing I had not put any wheels in the car because I would have been extremely upset.
I settled into a good pace and began passing stragglers from various racing categories that had fallen off the pace. At the second feed zone I grabbed a musette and took some time to eat a little food. I was definitely going to need it. I caught up to a couple of fellow Porcupine riders and rode with them for a bit. Their pace was slower than I wanted to go so I forged ahead solo.
A few miles prior to a six mile section of hard packed dirt and gravel road I looked back to see a large group of riders closing in on me. I continued driving my own pace expecting to be swept up at any moment. The group splintered on a small climb and I entered the dirt road on my own. Realizing that the group behind me was not going to be of much help I decided to chase after a group I could see down the road. By the time I reached them this group had fallen apart on the rolling dirt and gravel hills. I latched on to a group of about 5 riders and took a little break to catch my breath. I rotated through the group and took my turn at the front. I increased the pace a touch and riders stopped rotating through. I stayed on the front and set the pace. After about 5 minutes, two other riders came by. They were going much faster. I jumped on with them and we left the other group behind. These two were riding strong and I was only able to sit in their slipstream. They dropped me on a short steep hill, but seemed to wait for me near the top. I got back on, we finished the dirt section, and flew across the asphalt that now felt gloriously smooth.
About a third of a mile after the dirt section I heard the dreadful hissing sound of air leaving its rubbery confines. That’s right, flat tire number two. Not only did I lose a ride in the draft again, I had already used my spare tube and CO2 cartridge on the first flat. I had to wait for a maintenance vehicle for the supplies to get me rolling again. The problem was that all the maintenance vehicles were occupied fixing numerous flats on the dirt road. They wouldn’t be coming to assist me any time soon.
After approximately 10 minutes, Mike Meldrum, the fearless leader of the Porcupine Cycling Team, happened upon my quagmire. He assisted me with his spare tube and CO2 pump. I changed the tube, pushed the pump on the valve, and released the air. I was unaccustomed to Mike’s pump and half of the canned carbon dioxide escaped into the atmosphere instead of going to its new home inside my tube. Left with a half inflated tube and no more cartridges I waited again. Mike waited with me. Finally we were able to flag to a passing car that had a bike pump. The driver turned out to be another Porcupine rider that was participating in the relay version of the race. He got my tire inflated to 110 psi and was off to his starting point. We were back on the road as well.
Mike, myself, and a few others began working together. I tried to spend a little extra time at the front to repay Mike for his help. Slowly the group swelled and we were able to get a decent pace line going. The group worked fairly well with most riders pulling their weight. A few miles later a race referee pulled along side us on his motorcycle to let us know that a few riders were being motor paced back to their group because they had been led off course. He instructed us that we were not to join in with them. Shortly thereafter another motorcycle came by with two riders following behind. The next thing I knew the motor paced riders had given up the chase and our group was now being pulled by the motorcycle. After two flat tires I had zero qualms about taking advantage of this free ride. He paced us at around 30 mph for the final 10 miles into Evanston, WY. Then he left us on our own.
A final hill before the feed zone in Evanston strung out our group and many gaps formed. I grabbed water and an energy drink in the feed zone and coasted through. I coasted down a hill and out to the Mirror Lake Highway. I rode at 4 -5 mph for 10 to 15 minutes waiting for Mike. I didn’t see him and finally set out on the final 30 miles before the 20 mile ascent of Bald Mountain Pass.
Within a few minutes I caught up to a couple of riders, including another Porcupine rider. We exchanged turns at the front and caught another group of riders. Still feeling good I took long turns at the front. Our group swelled to around 15 riders, but only 4-5 of us were taking turns at the front. After opening a gap on the group a few times during my turn on the front I once again forged ahead on my own. I rode the last 7-8 miles to the next feed zone alone.
I grabbed a musette, but stopped for a nature break. I loaded my pockets with food, had a few bites to eat, took a couple of anti-cramping pills, topped off my bottles, and headed out for a 20 mile climb with 105 miles already in my legs to weigh me down.
I quickly passed a few riders that were unloading musettes and taking a little time to fuel up for the climb. One rider latched on to my back wheel and joined me for the climb.
The lower slopes were mild and I rode a fairly strong pace. A few miles in I caught up with my friend Dave Hogan. We exchanged quick pleasantries, but I continued on as I was in a good rhythm and wanted to keep it going.
As the miles clicked by the slope increased. I shifted gears and kept the circles rolling. The rider with me seemed to be suffering, but he hung on my wheel. Luckily I had some knowledge of this climb from racing the High Uintas Stage Race numerous times in the past. So, when I reached the first summit I knew I would descend and then still need to climb another 2-3 miles.
We reached the summit of Bald Mountain at an elevation of 10,700 feet and stopped to get food and drinks. The next thing I knew, the rider I was with was gone. I had hoped to ride with him for the descent, through Kamas, and back into Park City. Instead, I once again set off on my own. I now only had 45-50 miles to go and I was starting a long downhill.
The first 8-10 miles gave me a nice rest from my efforts. The problem was that the winds had really picked up on this side of the mountain. The strength of the headwind increased as I descended. After the initial steep descent there was a long gradual descent through the canyon and into Kamas. With the headwind, what should have been fast easy miles became challenging and energy depleting. It took longer than expected, but I came into Kamas and still felt like I had something left to give.
I headed through Kamas and made a right turn toward the final major obstacle of the day. I had another mountain to cross, but this one was much smaller than Bald Mountain. I immediately felt the miles in my legs as I started my ascent into the headwind. I kept the pedals turning by reminding myself that from the top it would be mostly downhill into Park City. Near the top was a false flat with the summit visible in the distance. I continued to grind my way toward the summit viewing it essentially as the finish line.
Due to all the mishaps of the day I was well behind my estimated schedule. Since I was not anywhere near contention for a high placing I decided to call my wife and let her know that I was nearing the finish. She didn’t answer, so I left her a message that I was about ten miles out from the finish and that it would be mostly downhill. I expected to easily reach the finish within 30 minutes.
I crested the summit and looked across the valley to another steep climb. My heart sank. My legs felt heavy and weak. I descended and was nearly blown off the road by the crosswinds coming through the valley. I began the climb, but mentally I had already called it a day. I was unable to convince my brain to fire up the synapses again. I crawled up the hill and into the wind in my 39/27. For the first time in over a hundred miles riders began catching and passing me. The second rider to catch me was the rider that had come over Bald Mountain Pass with me. He asked why I left him at the summit. I told him that I thought he had left me. It turns out he had just taken a nature break and returned to find that I was already gone. He waited for me to get on his wheel, but I was unable to muster any strength and told him to go on without me.
Near the top of the climb, Shannon (another Porcupine rider), caught up to me. “What do you say we finish this thing together?” he asked me. I happily agreed to the request. We crawled over the summit together, and began navigating our way through the outskirts of town. Working together we eventually pulled ourselves into the shopping center where the finish line waited. More than an hour after I had left my wife a message we rolled across the finish line side by side. My wife, sister and brother in-law, and my cute little three year old niece cheered me across the line. My official race time was just over 10 hours. My actual ride time was only 9 hours and 8 minutes.
It was a long, and at times, frustrating day. However, in the end, the fact that I was able to ride as well as I did while overcoming numerous set-backs was eminently rewarding. The Tour de Park City and I will likely have a date for redemption in the near future. Next time, I think I’ll pay the race fee, and keep my vest.
