roostafish
Gold Level Site Supporter
June 24 2013, Diamond Mill, Tillamook State Forest, Oregon.
My wife and I trucked up to TSF for a nice local race this past weekend. I was looking forward to having a nice, green forest ride, following arrows and smiling for a 95 mile trail ride that I didn't have to stop a read a map to figure out, since I've pretty much run out of reliable riding buddies.
There was a lottery drawing for minutes for AA class riders, and I drew a lucky minute three. Two riders per minute, so I was looking forward to clean, unmolested trail for the day. The temperature was a perfect 67 degrees F, and there had been just enough rain overnight to ensure there would be no dust.
The ride started very well, a tiny bit of confusion on a course marking had me ahead of everybody, and I was the first bike into and out of the first special test. No tracks to follow, just delicious, fresh cut trail over moss and duff for a while, then into some sweet established singletrack, a four mile grin fest, all by myself. Eventually, the other riders caught back up and we all hit the first checkpoint for a little rest. The course got a little tougher between the first and second check, and it began to lightly rain. All good, my Scott Turbofan goggles had me covered. Second check and a splash of fuel, then out for more awesome trail. I made a big mistake on a long steep climb and had more throttle than momentum, spinning my tire and pitching me off the side of the trail and stuck on some alder saplings. After wrestling my bike from the alders and returning to the bottom for a second try at the hill (successful). Unfortunately, I expended most (all) of my energy extracting my bike from the woods and I began to get serious muscle cramps in my triceps, then in my legs. I don't remember many details of the trail to the third check (60 miles) back at the start, but was happy to see my wife, who filled my fuel tank, gave me aspirin and pickle juice for my cramps, and a banana. The pickle juice took the cramps away just in time to hear minute one start their engines, so I quickly donned my helmet and fresh gloves and lined up. The second loop (35 miles) was far more challenging, another snafu on marking had me first into the next trail after a fairly long gravel road ride, and the rain began to fall like we were all under a waterfall, I was soaked. A young man was standing at an intersection who stopped me and said, "welcome, you're the first one. Expert or Amateur?" I replied, uh, expert. He said, "that way" pointing at a trailhead. I scampered up the virgin trail and came upon a big rock. Check that, a moss covered huge rock. I stopped, wondering where I went wrong, only to find that I must drop off of this rock to continue, scary, but necessary, as there was absolutely no turning around, and it was more and more slippery as the day wore on. There was supposedly a cameraman up there, but I never saw him, and I never saw my picture on the site, but saw a others, and the spot. I was disappointed, but the picture just didn't do justice to how gnarly that stupid rock was anyway. I slid to the bottom of the lovely trail, and beginning to cramp again in my arms, and in my delirium, I turned left when I should have turned right on a gravel road. I buzzed down the road, trying to work out the cramps, only to run up on the same young man at the trail split. CRAP!! I turned around and went the other way, seeing other bikes on the ridge above, and being passed at that point by quite a few riders. No matter, as the cramps were killing me. I got back to my wrong turn, where the trail was well burned in by now, looking like 6 to 8 bikes had gone through and gone the right direction (right, and very obvious, when not delirious). A short break down a gravel road to the entrance of the next trail, marked by a triple black diamond! I have never seen a triple black diamond before ( I guess I can't say that anymore). It didn't matter, the trail before was more difficult, and I'm not sure, other than it being steep and slick why it was marked that way. Maybe it was because I couldn't see, as the trail was so grown over, I was traveling by braille. Maybe the branches were slowing me down, and it didn't seem so bad, who knows? Anyway, the cramps moved to my legs and forced me to sit and stand and move to try to get through them, and just when I thought I would have to stop and get off, I popped out on a road. At that point, Rory Sullivan caught up with me and stopped as I was sitting there stretching it out and says "wow, that was interesting!" I agreed and he motored on, then another rider showed up and stopped muttering something quite similar. I figured I'd better get going before the rest of the AA class caught up, as my pride would not allow to dip back into the A minutes. I suffered on for several miles of who knows what, because I was wet, freezing, and cramping until I found checkpoint 4 at the top of a hill, in a huge opening. No cover, but for a pop up for the check workers. They were gracious and let about 20 of us huddle under the thing while we all waited for our time. My minute buddy, Dave Hall, hoisted his hands in a victory type celebration when he saw me, because he had not seen me since the gas check, and was happy I was still on course and on time, it was encouraging that he cared, and it motivated me. There was a short discussion of all of us burning the check by 5 minutes, if everyone agreed, but the idea got no traction, and we all just stood there jumping around, huddling, and freezing until our time came around. We dove off a huge hill from there and into a beautiful special test. What a trail! My energy was pretty much gone and I was just riding trail pace, and I watched as Reid Brown blew by me with a whoop and a hoot. Try as I may, I couldn't stay with him, I just didn't have it in me, I was in survival mode. It was all going well, and about the 90 mile mark, the trail turned into a clay slide down a very steep trail with DEEP ruts. At one point, I had so much speed going with both wheels locked that I had to hit the eject button. My parachute deployed and I landed safely, retrieved the uninjured bike and continued on. I had a wakeup call entering the staging area, and nearly hit a rider head on. He screamed at me, turned around and followed me to the beginning of the final special test, yelling at the courseworkers and me as well. Come to find out, he was just leaving for his second loop, and the course officials had not planned on the two way traffic being a problem, nor riders being 1/2 hour late or more, as he was. The Special test crew grabbed my attention and got me focused, and I began my final blast into the finish. I don't remember much, other than seeing my wife with her camera poised at a log crossing, which made me smile! I was finished, I guarantee I didn't win, but I was on time all day in one of the toughest events I have ever done. Whatever position I end up with will be fine with me, I'll display that medal with pride. I loved this event. I wish my body had cooperated better, but it was a thrill to ride it, and it was an accomplishment to finish it, and an honor to ride in the front. I know the riders on later minutes suffered.
Any other ggrider.org members ride this one?
My wife and I trucked up to TSF for a nice local race this past weekend. I was looking forward to having a nice, green forest ride, following arrows and smiling for a 95 mile trail ride that I didn't have to stop a read a map to figure out, since I've pretty much run out of reliable riding buddies.
There was a lottery drawing for minutes for AA class riders, and I drew a lucky minute three. Two riders per minute, so I was looking forward to clean, unmolested trail for the day. The temperature was a perfect 67 degrees F, and there had been just enough rain overnight to ensure there would be no dust.
The ride started very well, a tiny bit of confusion on a course marking had me ahead of everybody, and I was the first bike into and out of the first special test. No tracks to follow, just delicious, fresh cut trail over moss and duff for a while, then into some sweet established singletrack, a four mile grin fest, all by myself. Eventually, the other riders caught back up and we all hit the first checkpoint for a little rest. The course got a little tougher between the first and second check, and it began to lightly rain. All good, my Scott Turbofan goggles had me covered. Second check and a splash of fuel, then out for more awesome trail. I made a big mistake on a long steep climb and had more throttle than momentum, spinning my tire and pitching me off the side of the trail and stuck on some alder saplings. After wrestling my bike from the alders and returning to the bottom for a second try at the hill (successful). Unfortunately, I expended most (all) of my energy extracting my bike from the woods and I began to get serious muscle cramps in my triceps, then in my legs. I don't remember many details of the trail to the third check (60 miles) back at the start, but was happy to see my wife, who filled my fuel tank, gave me aspirin and pickle juice for my cramps, and a banana. The pickle juice took the cramps away just in time to hear minute one start their engines, so I quickly donned my helmet and fresh gloves and lined up. The second loop (35 miles) was far more challenging, another snafu on marking had me first into the next trail after a fairly long gravel road ride, and the rain began to fall like we were all under a waterfall, I was soaked. A young man was standing at an intersection who stopped me and said, "welcome, you're the first one. Expert or Amateur?" I replied, uh, expert. He said, "that way" pointing at a trailhead. I scampered up the virgin trail and came upon a big rock. Check that, a moss covered huge rock. I stopped, wondering where I went wrong, only to find that I must drop off of this rock to continue, scary, but necessary, as there was absolutely no turning around, and it was more and more slippery as the day wore on. There was supposedly a cameraman up there, but I never saw him, and I never saw my picture on the site, but saw a others, and the spot. I was disappointed, but the picture just didn't do justice to how gnarly that stupid rock was anyway. I slid to the bottom of the lovely trail, and beginning to cramp again in my arms, and in my delirium, I turned left when I should have turned right on a gravel road. I buzzed down the road, trying to work out the cramps, only to run up on the same young man at the trail split. CRAP!! I turned around and went the other way, seeing other bikes on the ridge above, and being passed at that point by quite a few riders. No matter, as the cramps were killing me. I got back to my wrong turn, where the trail was well burned in by now, looking like 6 to 8 bikes had gone through and gone the right direction (right, and very obvious, when not delirious). A short break down a gravel road to the entrance of the next trail, marked by a triple black diamond! I have never seen a triple black diamond before ( I guess I can't say that anymore). It didn't matter, the trail before was more difficult, and I'm not sure, other than it being steep and slick why it was marked that way. Maybe it was because I couldn't see, as the trail was so grown over, I was traveling by braille. Maybe the branches were slowing me down, and it didn't seem so bad, who knows? Anyway, the cramps moved to my legs and forced me to sit and stand and move to try to get through them, and just when I thought I would have to stop and get off, I popped out on a road. At that point, Rory Sullivan caught up with me and stopped as I was sitting there stretching it out and says "wow, that was interesting!" I agreed and he motored on, then another rider showed up and stopped muttering something quite similar. I figured I'd better get going before the rest of the AA class caught up, as my pride would not allow to dip back into the A minutes. I suffered on for several miles of who knows what, because I was wet, freezing, and cramping until I found checkpoint 4 at the top of a hill, in a huge opening. No cover, but for a pop up for the check workers. They were gracious and let about 20 of us huddle under the thing while we all waited for our time. My minute buddy, Dave Hall, hoisted his hands in a victory type celebration when he saw me, because he had not seen me since the gas check, and was happy I was still on course and on time, it was encouraging that he cared, and it motivated me. There was a short discussion of all of us burning the check by 5 minutes, if everyone agreed, but the idea got no traction, and we all just stood there jumping around, huddling, and freezing until our time came around. We dove off a huge hill from there and into a beautiful special test. What a trail! My energy was pretty much gone and I was just riding trail pace, and I watched as Reid Brown blew by me with a whoop and a hoot. Try as I may, I couldn't stay with him, I just didn't have it in me, I was in survival mode. It was all going well, and about the 90 mile mark, the trail turned into a clay slide down a very steep trail with DEEP ruts. At one point, I had so much speed going with both wheels locked that I had to hit the eject button. My parachute deployed and I landed safely, retrieved the uninjured bike and continued on. I had a wakeup call entering the staging area, and nearly hit a rider head on. He screamed at me, turned around and followed me to the beginning of the final special test, yelling at the courseworkers and me as well. Come to find out, he was just leaving for his second loop, and the course officials had not planned on the two way traffic being a problem, nor riders being 1/2 hour late or more, as he was. The Special test crew grabbed my attention and got me focused, and I began my final blast into the finish. I don't remember much, other than seeing my wife with her camera poised at a log crossing, which made me smile! I was finished, I guarantee I didn't win, but I was on time all day in one of the toughest events I have ever done. Whatever position I end up with will be fine with me, I'll display that medal with pride. I loved this event. I wish my body had cooperated better, but it was a thrill to ride it, and it was an accomplishment to finish it, and an honor to ride in the front. I know the riders on later minutes suffered.
Any other ggrider.org members ride this one?
