Ouch!

That hurt!

The Breckenridge 100 was rough.  A weird mix of rough, rocky singletrack (at high speed) and long stretches of road/bike path.  There was some really fun riding in there as well, but this race hurt more than I had expected.

The Stats:

· 100 miles (My odometer read 100.3—unusually close for a trail race!)
· ~13,000’ of climbing
· 2nd-Place Singlespeed
· 17th-Place Overall
· 9:38:22 to the finish line.

The mass start--you can make out Amanda Carey in the second row with her red Kenda jersey.  Notice that I'm nowhere to be seen.

The course is laid out like a big cloverleaf: 3 loops leaving Breckenridge in 3 directions.  We all massed up at the starting line just before 6am and rolled out for a brief neutral start across downtown to the base of the ski area.  Due to my own dicking around prior to this, I ended up at the back of the mass and spent the “neutral” time weaving my way through the pack to get closer to the front.  Not too much effort wasted, but it did leave me with no idea about who was at the front, and how many of those riders were on singlespeeds.

Loop 1: 30 miles, 4300’

We cranked up the Breckenridge Ski Area service road for an hour or so to the top of Wheeler Pass while the sun rose.  Nice 3500’ warm-up to start the day.  Then it got hard.

The wind was kicking over the pass, and the sun had barely crested the horizon (it was still grumpily peering through the last of its cloudy blanket) so things were none too warm up there, and we were headed for a descent down the shady side.  What started as a pleasant wander through alpine wildflowers quickly deteriorated into crazy rough, steep, rocky, high-speed descending through the forest to Copper Mountain.  Hanging on for all I was worth, forearms pumped beyond acceptable bounds from gripping the brakes, I bounced down into the forest, begging for mercy.  (And with both ankles rocking like sewing-machines from the cold.)  After one particularly burly rock garden I heard a racer behind me grunt as he flipped over the bars, but didn’t dare stop to check on him out of fear that attempting to stop would result in my own flight off the bike.  Damn.

Eventually that ended and we pulled out onto 7 miles of bike path down to Frisco. What a nightmare.  I mean, it’s a beautiful bike path, but it descends just enough to fully spin out on the singlespeed but not steeply enough to pick up any kind of speed coasting.  For 7 miles?!  I didn’t get passed by any SS riders, but mucho geared riders that I had passed on the trip up to Wheeler Pass blew by in their big ring.  I just had to grit my teeth and shiver down to the sunny singletrack waiting in Frisco where I could try to reel them all back in.

At this point you may have picked up that I was a touch grumpy upon arrival in Frisco.  All of that changed once we turned up the valley back towards Breck.  The singletrack that they’ve laid into the forest for that stretch is RAD!  Super buff, winding through gorgeous timber, and pleasantly warm in the morning sunlight.  Loved it, and had it mostly to myself.  I passed a few geared riders early-on, but then didn’t see a person until after cruising through the base area.  I finally started to feel the flow of a long day of racing.

Rolling through the last of Loop 1.

Loop 2: 34.5 miles, 4650’

The Ultimate Support Team (Erica and my parents) were there cheering in the pit area, set up to hand me what I needed for the next lap.  After I threw my empty Camelbak, Erica handed me a fresh one and my mom handed me a bottle—I didn’t even have to step off the bike.  Thanks, team!

Resupplied and climbing into Loop 2.

The second loop was by far my favorite.  I’ve heard people say that they think it’s the hardest loop on the course, but I loved it.  There aren’t any really prominent climbs or descents; it’s all just climbing or descending.  None of this flat, spinning crap.  And the riding is gorgeous, mostly singletrack with a bit of dirt/rocky road thrown in.  Definitely my strongest leg.

The opening climb of Loop 2 was probably my favorite part of the course.

The climb up Little French Flume was awesome—long, steep, loose, and technical.  I was able to pass a bunch of guys who were walking and I almost cleaned it, but did end up walking eventually.  This was also where I started getting contrary messages about my standing in the SS division.  One dude sitting by the course yelled, “Yeah!  First singlespeed!”  Then 5 minutes later a photographer said, “Alright!  You’re in second!”  What the hell?

When I pulled out of a super fun stretch on the Colorado Trail and onto a brief section of pavement, the Ultimate Support Team was unexpectedly there cheering me on.  My dad, clipboard in hand, was keeping track of the standings while Erica and my mom yelled their support.  Erica yelled “You’re in first place, baby!  The next guy was about 5 minutes back at the last checkpoint!”  Then my dad added that I was 18^th overall.  I punched it a bit for the last 10 miles or so of Loop 2 to open up a comfier lead on #2, and had a blast doing it.  Super fun riding!

Loop 3: 35.5 miles, 4060’

And once again the Ultimate Support Team was there at the pit, handing me the Camelbak and bottle that would fuel me through the final loop.  This time Erica yelled, “There’s a guy in 3^rd place overall who might be on a singlespeed—don’t worry about him.  You were 15 minutes ahead of the next singlespeeder at the last checkpoint.  Keep it up!”  A singlespeeder in 3^rd place?  On this course?  What?!

Not that it mattered; I clearly wasn’t going to pick him off.  So, I focused on forward progress, and reeling in as many geared riders as I could find.  The climb up to Boreas Pass was actually pretty fun—good climbing on a fun stretch of trail, with a mile or so of dirt road to finish it up.  There was a thunderhead making some noise over Boreas Mountain, but the pass itself was dry.

And holy crap, the Ultimate Support Team surprised me by cheering me on at the crest of the pass!  What a crew.  The descent to Como starts with ¼-mile of dirt road before turning down super fast, flowy singletrack.  Screaming down from the subalpine environment into big Colorado forest.  Eventually it turned into a rollercoaster down a weird Roman aqueduct-like trail, for miles!  (This apparently turned into something more like a muddy creek descent when it started raining later in the afternoon, but it rocked for me.)

Mom and Erica cheering me over Boreas Pass.  Take that Honey Stinger dude!  (He promptly passed me in the aqueduct.)

Eventually the aqueduct ran out and the trail turned incomprehensibly rough, with huge granite rock-gardens and cyclocross-style running.  Things slowed down quite a bit for the rest of the trip to Como.

The return trip from Como to Boreas Pass climbs up the endless dirt Boreas Pass road.  (For miles and miles and miles…)  Good for spinning late in the race, bad for the mental game.  It went on FOREVER.  Boreas Mountain was still capped in a thunderhead that rumbled periodically, but thankfully there wasn’t any lightning.  However, the light sprinkle that kept me cool for the bulk of the climb turned Biblical at the top of the pass.  Sheets of rain made the road into greasy mud for the descent, and then that was buried in a layer of hail.  Awesome.

Flying down the road, watching riders on their ascent donning jackets, I just gritted my teeth and figured that I could make it out the other side of the squall to warm up before succumbing to hypothermia.  I was cold, but it was manageable. 

Cornering into the finish, trying to see through mud-spattered sunglasses.

And shortly after popping out into the sun, the course turned off of the road and up into forest singletrack again.  I don’t know why I thought it would be downhill all the way to the finish, but it definitely wasn’t.  The course architect threw in a couple of final punchy climbs to get us away from the road, and then we dropped to the finish where the Ultimate Support Team tried to tactfully avoid hugging my now mud-splattered body.  A clean sweatshirt and ½-gallon of chocolate milk felt pretty damn good after nine-and-a-half hours in the saddle.

Damn, I'm glad that's over!

Okay, she gave me a hug.

It turned out that Cameron Chambers was indeed in 3^rd-place, on a singlespeed.  He’s built a full-suspension SS out of a Trek Superfly, with a spring-loaded chain-tensioner on the back; that’s what had everybody confused about whether or not he had gears—it looks like a derailleur.  Cameron crushed the previous SS course record by over an hour!  I came in a few minutes behind the previous SS course record, disappointed that I didn’t break 9:30 but overall happy with my race.

The Singlespeed podium.  Why is my torso so damn long?

Now the big question is whether I’ve recovered enough over the few days between Breck and the High Cascades 100 to pull off the race I hope to have in Bend…

*Mucho thanks to the Ultimate Support Team for taking all of these great photos of the race!