scene at the start of the race
I was tom's chaperone, or guardian, for the attempt. He had been allowed to race only on the condition i stayed with him the entire time. but i flatted my rear tire 45 minutes into the race - my biggest fear - and so tom and I used our only spare small tube (i had a normal sized rear tire, rather than the typical fat ones used for snow-biking) and managed to get back on the trail after only 10 minutes, despite the minus fifteen cold. 45 minutes later i flatted again. after a futile attempt to cram an oversized snow-bike tube into the rear wheel we came up with a plan - tom would continue to the first checkpoint at gateway store with another rider, a co-worker, and i would drop from the race, catch a ride and try to trouble shoot the bike. the race directori luckily agreed - but if i was unablte to accompany him past gateway, he'd have to drop too.
In the warmth of the store, i managed to fix the tire. antsy, i decided to ride the trail backwards to find tom. i rode for an hour, finally coming across a rider i knew that had been half an hour behind tom when we had split up. he didn't remember passing him. I was worried, and rode back to the store hoping i'd somehow rode right by him but i hadn't. he finally arrived half an hour later and the look on his face was one of extreme humility, doubt, and disappointment. I'd told him the race would be harder than anything he'd ever done. while he might have understood this intellectually at the start line he now knew it viscerally, with every cell of his body. I didn't ask him if he wanted to continue of if he felt like he could finish - i just told him what he needed to do: take off his wet clothes. eat some soup. massage his legs (that had cramped badly miles before the store). He complied in a daze and eventually could spoon the chili-mac into his mouth without shaking. I took this as a sign that it was time to rebuild his confidence.
We left the store at 4:30, the last bikers to get back on the trail. Tom was full of reeses, soup, and coffee and I'd managed to borrow a bike from a guy (thanks Dave!) that seemed a bit more dependabe than what i'd been riding. Maybe he (we) had a shot. eventually we caught one rider, then another. It got dark and we entered some hills, climbing and descending in ten foot bubbles of white light. every hour we'd stop in our tracks and eat and drink. every two hours we'd hit a shelter, marking approximately 12 miles of travel. Tom had bounced back - he was riding up the hills that were covered in boot tracks, evidence that most that had come before us had walked. He resisted the urge to linger at the fires that had been built near the shelters, and worked hard to fend off the sleepmonsters (his first real brush with them), and we arrived at Mel George's, a cabin checkpoint at mile 70 just after 11 pm.
heading towards Mel George's
We were half an hour 'late' getting started - walkers coming in with obvious frostbite and reports of temps as low as 35 below on the trail gave tom a bit of pause to think and he was a bit slow to get ready. but once underway we gathered momentum quickly - averaging over six miles an hour despite the hills, hourly food stops, and a 10-15 minute walking break to warm up our feet during the very cold morning. we passed more racers - folks that had left the cabin hours before us. we rode all but the steepest of hills - relentless forward progress. Tom set a pace which pushed me, and i limited his refueling stops to 5 minutes, or left without him hoping he'd tire trying to catch me. we were moving fast, relatively warm, and enjoying the beautiful scenery. we hit wake-em-up hill, the last major elevation, just before two pm. the other side dropped away tom bombed down it with abandon, only to be startled by a snow-mobile roaring around the corner and fishtaling off the trail to disappear into the deep powder flanking the trail. he was smiling as he climbed out and we cruised the last few miles to the last checkpoint, the crescent bar and grill.
after ordering some real food and giving an interview for to a reporter from the minneapolis star tribune, we headed out into the cold one final time for what was supposed to be a flat and fast 22 miles. Tom was on fire - i couldn't keep up. I made him ride behind me to ensure that we'd stay together and perhaps to protect my ego a bit. despite taking a wrong turn and adding 2 miles to the distance, we covered the section in only 10 minutes more than Jeff Oatley, the first place rider (in fairness, he hadn't slept for six hours half way through the race). And just like that it was over - a sliding stop under a banner behind the fortune bay casino - 135 miles in 34 and a half hours.
finish line
Special thanks to Jim Grijalva for what ended up being tom's ride, Pat white and the guys at ski and bike for encouraging tom before the race, Billy Haug for the place to crash and good converstation, Nic for being a temporary 'guardian' and getting tom to the store, Dave Sears for the bike that let me, and thus tom, continue the race, Dave and Mary for letting us start, and all the volunteers for making it possible.
Congratulations! This is an amazing story. To do what he did is incredible, and a highly desirable trait among endurance athletes - to continue even when you know you are "done". No matter how he feels now, this will definitely rank among his highest accomplishments. Nice work Andy, and helping someone realize they can dig deep when all looks dark. I think you must be feeling pretty good yourself about being a great mentor. Nice work!
ReplyDeletescott
thanks for the thoughts scott. it was a pretty remarkable couple of days for both of us i think...
ReplyDeleteI can not read this without smiling and thinking all about the race and all of the pain and suffering mixed with fun and sense of accomplishment and just everything! Thanks Andy! This was an amazing experience that I will never forget and hopefully can re-live at some point! I havent talked to you in a while either! Sorry about that! Ill have to come over and see all of you soon! Merry Christmas!!
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