Too Straight...

Make that TWO straight races in Oregon with a finish line victory celebration. Preparation for the 2008 Cascade Cream Puff began soon after winning stage 1 and snagging second overall last week at the Elkhorn Classic.

The Puff is touted as the most difficult 100 mile MTB race in the U.S. I have no reference since this was my first venture in the genre. With more than 50 miles of singletrack I can tell you that this was easily the hardest thing I have ever done.

This years course was new courtesy of mother nature. Snow.

The race began with a 3 mile paved road to an 8 mile fire road climb to Aid station 2. Then we dropped into the first singletrack trail to Aid station 3 and a mandatory 30-second stop. Next came the long 17 mile fire road climb through Aid 4 and back to Aid 2...and repeat?! Once back to Aid 2 after the second big loop it was down a different singletrack to Aid 1 where riders took yet another singletrack back to the 8 mile climb to Aid 2 and then down to Aid 1 for the finish.

My peeps and supplies were stationed at Aid 2 since there would be a total of four trips through.

The race started at 5:30 a.m. at a moderate pace. The legs felt good and the ducks tucked neatly in their row. The first climb felt easy and I dove into the singletrack in second place. Sight unseen, I handled this section of the race like a true roadie. By the time I hit Aid 3 I was in 5th place five minutes off the lead. Staying calm and climbing comfortably, the riders that passed me on the trail began coming back. As I caught up with second place I could see a comfortable and efficient adversary. I waited for the right moment and grade in the road and blasted by him. Very soon after, the leader came into view. By now the winning strategy for the rest of the day had become apparent. I needed a huge gap into the singletrack and had to get to Aid 3 the second time in the lead. I measured the leader and waited for the right moment. As we hit a gradual downhill into a left hand bend and up the next pitch that feeling hit... "Go Now!" In my biggest gear I set up for the corner. He let up and took a rational line into the apex. I dove hard to the inside line still pedalling to maintain momentum as I sprayed gravel and ripped into a two wheel drift. This was my death blow. The cards were on the table and my intention was to make him think he was racing for second. The exit was clean and fast and the throttle was now wide open with a whopping 70-ish miles to go. I was climbing fast, this was the fastest part of my day. The heartrate was steady in the low 190's.

Soon after settling into the lead I began catching the organizer and a volunteer. Each on a motorcycle was stopping and setting up the final course markings on the road. Their behavior was serious and hurried. I had a new motivation to impress these riders gifted with internal combustion. We leap-frogged for many miles before they were able to get ahead for good. Thanks to my road teammates Justin Rose and Chris Stuart and their interest in 80's pop culture the song "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin" had snuck in the back door and was blasting through my head. Approaching Aid 4 I could see the workers rising to the occassion. The reaction as I blew by without stopping was a total thrill. I soaked in the cheers and continued on until reaching Aid 2. This was where the action was. A large number of people were eager to take care of business as they lubed my chain and swapped my empty bottles with full ones while I stood and guzzled a 20-ounce bottle of my favorite mix with Hydrate2o water. My lead was now 5 minutes. It was like a Nascar pit-stop for the endurance athlete. As I mounted back up the place errupted.

Back into the singletrack. I stunk it up the first time through this section. It flowed now, having seen it once the rhythm encouraged me. The speed was much higher and halfway through a switchback I was bucked high side into the dirt. The landing was soft and in just a few seconds I was back at it. A long time later I hit Aid 3 with the lead that I needed. I estimated second place at 2 minutes back judging by the spectator noise from up the hill.

Onto the 17 mile road climb my "system check" gave me troubling data. It was hot and the sun was beating down on the gravel. The legs were crampy and could not keep up so I let off the throttle a bit and consumed my drinks and doused my head with water all the way up to Aid 4. This time I stopped to grab more water, but only for a few seconds. By the time I hit the top and in to Aid 2 the feelings were better. This pit-stop was a carbon copy, only the departure was even louder. A new trail now, down to Aid 1. It was cautious and seemed to take a very long time. At the bottom more water to douse with as I hit the river trail back to the 8 mile climb. With not a single clue of my lead I just kept going at a measured effort. I knew the climb and the descent. All I could do was settle in and get there as fast as possible.

This time up was much longer. The sun was cooking me. I was stuck in the middle and the pain was thunder. Finally, Aid 2 for the last time. The crew tended to my needs and just one last crazy long descent. The emotions were bubbling now. I could not believe how deep I was. Numerous times the tears started to roll. My body felt foreign. I was choking up and losing my composure. The trail was frightenning me. A mistake in this environment comes with a huge penalty and I knew it. "Pull it together" I would yell out loud, "Ride your bike!"

As I neared the finish I let go of the one emotion I had been keeping down for the last few hours. "Hey Kool-Aid!" I thought... and the elation came busting through. Immediately following the finish line I relented to self-preservation and dove under a tent into the grass. 9 hours and 38 minutes of pure mountain bike fun.

Thanks- to all my friends for their encouragement and support, my sponsors and the race promoters and volunteers.