|   Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | Emily Dirksen
Jun 1, 2003 2:17 PM | | I will preface this by apologizing for the length but I got a bit carried away as I relived the race while writing.
"Eeuwh! Miss Dirksen, what happened to your legs??!!" I was a bit taken aback by the obvious horror in one of my student's faces as he entered my classroom Tuesday morning. I felt I was looking pretty sharp considering the circumstances. I had already taken two baths (one baking soda and one oatmeal) before 7:30 in the morning and had applied a new, thick coat of that lovely pink calamine lotion in an attempt to both ease the itching and hide the "mess" all over my legs. Looking down, I realized I that I hadn't been as successful as I had hoped in concealing my condition; the oozing, bloody sores and thick scabs were still quite visible, the calamine lotion serving only to add to the goopy mess. Unable to bear the thought of having fabric rubbing against my raw, oozing skin all day, I had opted for a skirt that morning. Though it went just below the knee, covering the worst of my patches, it still revealed enough for observers to get a good idea of the damage. While competing in the 24-hour mountain bike race at Laguna Seca over the weekend, I had managed to fly off my bike several times during the night due to my inability to foresee a few of the downhill turns under the dim glow of my headlight. It must have been during one of these times that I rolled in poison oak. Riding and sweating for about another fourteen hours following the encounter ensured the spreading of that poisonous oil to every part of my body that didn't happen to receive an initial coating. I am now covered from head to toe in the poison oak rash. Late Sunday night after the race the itching began and it has only worsened since then. I have spent my nights and much of my days for the past couple weeks ripping away at my raw, oozing skin in an attempt to relieve the ITCH. As I am sure those of you who have met with a similar fate are aware, you continue to dig into and rip away at your bleeding skin, fully aware of the eyesore you are creating and the possible scarring it may lead to, as few things in life provide as much immediate gratification! My students continue to marvel at the hideous sight of my legs, while I use every ounce of willpower to resist the urge to itch. One of my students remarked, "Man, Miss Dirksen, I bet you wish you had never done that bike race, hunh?" I would have done it all over again in a flash, poison oak and all, but didn't even try to explain this to my students who complain daily about the seven-minute "hike" it is to my classroom from their other classes. There are some things you just can't explain.
What is it that draws so many of us to these tests of endurance where we must fight sleep deprivation, hunger, and pain for hours on end? It certainly isn't the fame and fortune. I reflected back on my experience at Laguna Seca. I couldn't have entered the race more unprepared, but perhaps this worked to my advantage as I had no expectations. I had not been on a mountain bike (and only once on a road bike unless you count the occasional trip to the grocery store and back) since my last and only other bike race, the 24 hours at Tahoe, two years ago. It wasn't that I hadn't wanted to; I had loved my experience at Tahoe and had hoped to participate in another race soon thereafter, but circumstances had not allowed for that, not to mention that I did not even own a mountain bike. I had borrowed a friend's bike and all the other necessary equipment for the Tahoe race. So, when I was finally living back in the Bay Area and this same friend Carrie Edwards mentioned that she was doing the Laguna Seca race, I jumped at the opportunity to tag along.
My first task buy a bike. Signed up almost a full two weeks before the event, I figured I had plenty of time to accomplish this task. I began looking on Craigslist and Ebay for second-hand bikes, but was overwhelmed by all the bike jargon. It was like trying to decipher a foreign language. And I never knew that a bike had so many parts!! I went and looked at a couple of the bikes, but had no idea what I should be looking for. Finally, I called up Carrie for some direction. She enlightened me as much as one could in a half hour phone conversation and told me to call her back when I had questions about a specific bike. At least I now knew the difference between a hardtail and a full suspension bike and what disc brakes were. But I still had no idea how to narrow my search. With less than a week until the race, I realized I needed to act quickly, so when Carrie mentioned that one of the bikes listed on Craigslist was similar to a bike that her friend had and really liked, I decided to check it out. I arranged to meet the seller a few days later at 8:30pm in the parking lot of REI, and by 8:45pm, I was the proud owner of a Rocky Mountain. Hey, it handled well in the parking lot!
Friday before the race, I picked up all the other items I needed, like bike shoes, cleats, handlebar extenders, a light, and some food (the only thing I knew anything about). I was fortunate because Carrie was lending me a helmet, some pedals, and various other items. Of course, it took a lot longer than expected to gather all the necessary gear, so I did not arrive at the Good Nite Inn in Salinas where I was meeting Carrie and her boyfriend (and expert bike mechanic) Steve until almost 1am. We proceeded to talk for a couple hours after I arrived before finally falling asleep, so our 7am wake-up came all too soon. The four and a half hours of sleep was more than I had gotten in awhile (I had already pulled two all-nighters earlier that week for work), but was still not the 7 or 8 hours I had hoped for the night before the race. After showering, packing up, and stopping at Safeway and Starbucks for some last minutes provisions, we arrived at the racecourse at around 10am. We found a spot for our cars among the masses of trailers, tents, bikes, and other cars in the pit area, registered, and began assembling our bikes. Steve offered to take a look at me on my "new" bike, as I had not had a chance to take a ride on it yet outside of the REI parking lot. After watching me ride by him on the pavement a couple times and jump up and down on the shocks, he worked his magic and made the bike feel a hundred times better. His knowledge of bikes amazed me!
While I was over at the Night Pro tent renting a light and some batteries for my night rides, they started calling the soloists competing in the National Championship category (don't ask me why I signed up for that category except for the fact that I figured the longer course would allow for more variety in the 24+ hours I would be riding) to come to the start. I raced back to my car ("our pit"), as I still had yet to put the numbers on my bike, put on my bike shoes and helmet, and perform a variety of other last-minute tasks. I somehow managed to make it to the starting area as they were introducing the soloists and having them walk one-by-one down the pathway to the start. How embarrassing!! I definitely did not belong among this group of elite riders and just prayed that I wouldn't trip in my new bike shoes in front of all these spectators. I somehow made it to the starting line still upright where the countdown was beginning for the running start. Before I knew it, I was swept away in the herd of bikers, all clamoring clumsily up and down the quarter-mile hill to their bikes. It took me awhile to clip into my pedals as I had used clipless pedals only once before and that had been two years ago, but I had 24 hours to figure them out. Once on my bike, I felt the adrenalin kick in. I was finally racing! My first brush with the dirt came early in the race. On the first little descent, there was a sharp, steep turn (at least it seemed sharp and steep to me) which I took too quickly and skidded out. Unable to clip out of my pedals fast enough, I fell with the bike on top of me. I hurriedly tried to scooch out of the way of the bikers that followed, so as not to become a roadblock. Uninjured, I picked myself up, and hopped back on the bike. My next fall actually came on an ascent. Not anticipating the steep uphill that followed one of the descents, I didn't try changing into an easier gear until it was too late. The chain just made a loud clicking noise and then fell off the ring. I felt myself falling, but once again could not clip out in time and hit the ground with a thud. I decided that I really did need to practice getting into and out of these pedals. After a series of fun descents and taxing ascents (one of the perks of the longer course was the additional three climbs it offered.all the more practice for me), I finally made it back to the transition area, relatively unscathed. It was a relief to have completed one lap and have discovered that this course seemed less technical than I remembered the Tahoe course being. In case you haven't figured it out yet, technique is not my strong suit, and my strategy on the most technical parts of Tahoe was to speed up (the faster I could get it over with the better), close my eyes, and hold on. Needless to say, I finished my solo ride at Tahoe beaten and battered, with gauges, bruises, and wounds covering my body.
One aspect of these mountain bike races that I was continually reminded of, even on this first lap, was the camaraderie of all the racers out on the course. As the race number on the back of the solo riders bikes has "solo" written on it, I received constant words of encouragement from other riders for my solo attempt (did I look that pathetic?) as they went whizzing past me. That is one of the benefits of doing the race solo - you have an excuse for being slow. And I need all the excuses I can get.
I finished the first lap in about 1hour 25 minutes.nothing to write home about, but now that I was more comfortable on the bike and with the pedals and had seen the course, I believed I could shave some time off my next lap. Unfortunately, after going through the transition area, I was a bit confused and went left instead of right ending up, unbeknownst to me, back on the prologue loop and surrounding area. As I looped around among the trailers and tents, I eventually realized I had made a wrong turn somewhere and began asking people how to get back on the course. The people I asked either didn't have time to respond or didn't understand English, as I just received a lot of blank stares, but finally made it back to the course using my own stellar navigation skills! Though my misturn cost me no more than ten minutes, nothing in the grand scheme of 24 hours, it was not the way I had hoped to begin my second lap.
The second lap ran more smoothly than the first but I still was trying to figure out how to ride a bike and made plenty of mistakes. It was during this lap that I realized buying new bike shoes the night before the race was probably not the best idea. I had raced a couple marathons on brand new shoes and they had been great, but I soon discovered bike shoes were another cup of tea. They were not nearly as giving as running shoes (at least the ones I had bought weren't), and by the end of the second lap, I had lost all feeling in my feet. I kept wiggling them in an attempt to revive them, but they were not to be roused, so I finally accepted the fact that I would have to ride the remaining 21 hours with numb feet.
It was during the approximate 2.5-mile uphill grind at the end of the course that I got to know many of the other riders. The gradual ascent was not so strenuous as to leave you out of breath, but strenuous enough so that you could not whiz up it (or at least I couldn't), which made it the perfect time for chit-chat. It helped to take your mind off the "grind" and made the ride much more interesting. It was on this section of my third lap that I met Jeff, a sixty-year-old United Airlines pilot who was racing solo. He had competed in other 24-hour races on a team, but this was his first solo race and he appeared to be going strong. I was impressed! I only hoped I could be in that good of shape at sixty! (He ended up finishing fifth! Impressive, considering he was racing against riders half his age.) I became so caught up in our conversation that I was caught off guard by the sudden increase in the steepness of the ascent. I quickly tried to change to an easier gear, but my bike refused to cooperate and the chain fell off the ring once again and got stuck. Before I knew what was happening, I was falling and once again, I could not detach myself from the pedals in time to break my fall. I hit the ground, bike on top of me, with enough force to break my water bottle cage and bike pump off the bike. Thoroughly impressed by my acrobatics, Jeff stopped and asked if I was okay. I assured him that I was and told him to go on. Since I didn't have the tools to reattach the water bottle cage (with water bottle) and bike pump, I decided to stick them all down the back of my shorts (As a former rower, I had learned to carry everything and anything down the back of my trou as you need both hands free to carry your boat and oars down to the dock.) Jeff took one look at my loaded shorts and insisted that he carry at least one item. I finally handed him my bike pump, just so I would not delay him any longer. As I was riding through the pit area at the end of that lap, I heard someone calling my name, and there was Jeff with my bike pump in hand. It was times like these that I was reminded of one of the main reasons that I enjoy these races so much! I had the opportunity to strike up conversations with at least ten other people during my climb up the "grind", and it was these conversations that helped keep me going, especially throughout the dark, lonely night when I would start to drift off to sleep during this long, gradual ascent.
Unable to quickly locate a tool to reattach my water bottle cage, I decided to just leave it and grabbed my camelback as a replacement. I had bought this camelback on sale a couple years ago, but had not yet used it as I found camelbacks a nuisance. I soon realized why this camelback had been on sale, as it was the most uncomfortable camelback I had ever used. First of all, it had no waist strap, which is fine for hiking but not biking, and the pack flapped up and down off my back the entire fourth lap. Also, the tube was so long that it slapped against my leg the entire ride, spraying water everywhere, yet when I actually wanted to drink some water, it was nearly impossible, as you had to have the drinking spout at a particular angle in your mouth or no water would come out. All I can say is thank goodness there were a couple water stations setup along the course. It was during this fourth lap that I decided to give Clif Shot a try. I had sampled Powergel, Gu, Clif Shot, and various other energy potions at different expos, rowing regattas, and running races, but I had never actually used the stuff as fuel during a race, as I didn't particularly like the taste and more significantly, had difficulty spending a $1.79 on an ounce of sugar gel. However, in this case, I needed a quick shot of energy as I hadn't wanted to stop and dig around for food in my car, and it was free at the two aid stations on the course. So, at the top of Hurl Hill (as I later learned it was called), I grabbed a pack of Vanilla Shot and began its consumption. It took me almost the entire rest of the loop to get down all of that thick, sticky paste, but I did it, and I figured something that concentrated and sweet had to be giving me energy, so much so that I didn't even need to grab any food at the end of that lap. However, I did have to stop and put a light on my helmet as it was 6pm and the rules were that all competitors had to have lights after 6pm. Just as I was finishing attaching the light to my helmet, Steve walked over and informed me that I had put in on backwards..details! He then asked how my bike was running. I said it felt pretty good, except that my chain was making a lot of noise every time I changed gears and would get stuck periodically. It was probably just my novice shifting that was doing it. He put the bike up on a stand, took just a couple minutes to work his magic once again, and handed me back what felt like a new bike, it ran so much more smoothly. Man, I want to learn how to do tricks like that!
By the time I reached the aid station before the last 2.5 mile grind to the finish on my fifth lap, I was ready to try another Clif Shot and accepted the chocolate one in the outstretched hand. I slipped it under the elastic of the bottom of my shorts for safe keeping until I had finished the cup of water I had also grabbed. Less than a minute later, I felt something running down my right leg. I looked down to see chocolate Shot running all down my right quad and my calf. Apparently, the volunteer had decided to help me out by opening my Clif Shot and when I had put it under my elastic shorts, it had all squeezed out. Great, just what I needed, thick, sticky brown syrup running down my leg! At first I just tried to ignore it and continue pedaling, but every time I pedaled, my upper calf would stick to the lower hamstring of my right leg, making pedaling up the hill that much more arduous. Finally, the sticking together and ripping apart of my leg with every push became too much; I took a swig of water from my camelback, spit it into my hand, and rubbed it on my leg in an attempt to wash off some of the sticky mess. As I was in the middle of this preening process, I heard a voice behind me say, "The ground is rough, isn't it?" He obviously thought the mess all over my legs was blood, not brown syrup, a logical assumption, and had taken pity on me (I really did look a mess.). I didn't even bother explaining the real situation, as what was the point, and besides, I doubt he had that much time to waste on such a ridiculous story. Instead I nodded, smiled, and mumbled something like, "Good work. You're looking strong," as he rode up beside me. The "You're looking strong" phrase always worked to get the guys powering up the hill even faster to demonstrate their impressive strength, and this is exactly what I wanted so that I could continue my preening without an audience. It took me more than half of the climb and all the water and spit I had before I had wiped off enough of the chocolate Shot so that my leg no longer stuck together each time I pedaled, but it did provide a distraction.
Finally I made it back to the transition area where I finished the cleanup job on my leg, refilled my camelback, and attached my battery for the light, as it was already past 8pm, so I would need light on this run. It was at this time that I met Vee, a friend of Carrie's who had come to see what mountain bike racing was all about. She offered to mix me up drink of some lovely pinkish liquid, which I gladly accepted. After attaching the battery to my light and having no success in getting it to turn on, I returned to the Night Pro tent and asked for a replacement. They obliged and I was off for my first night lap. In some respects the darkness reduced my inhibitions, as I could not see all the ruts and other obstacles on the course, so I would just go and hope that I wouldn't crash. However, in other cases the darkness slowed me down, as I would not see a sharp turn, a tree, or rock until it was too late and I would go flying off my bike. Unfortunately, the wire that attached my battery to the light kept flipping to the front of my helmet, reducing my already limited vision. I kept trying to fling it back behind my head, but it refused to stay there, so I finally gave up and just accepted the fact that I would have a wire flipping in my face for most of this lap. That combined with my camelback flapping up and down and hitting me on the head on some of the steeper descents made navigating the turns in the dark even more of a challenge.
Once back in the pit area, I decided to locate some duct tape so that I could tape down my battery wire to my helmet. I asked the mechanic (who I think said his name was Jon, but my mind was growing foggy by that time) for the biker Chris who was setup next to me in the pit area (I was later told that he was the reigning World Champion) if I could borrow some duct tape. He not only helped me tape down the wire to my helmet, but also made some adjustments with my camelback that made it a thousand times more comfortable! No longer were the straps rubbing against the back of my neck, and he coiled and fastened the tube so that it no longer hit my leg and flung water all over me. In just a few minutes, he had made my ride so much more comfortable! I was so appreciative, I wanted to give him a huge hug, but resisted the urge for fear of ruining any chance for future assistance if need be.
So I headed off on lap seven in a much better frame of mind. Unfortunately, that was the last time I would see anyone at my pit area until morning, as both Chris and Carrie had to drop out of the race due to injuries and with them went their mechanics. This second night lap was fairly uneventful except for one instance when I didn't see the turn until it was too late and ended up stuck upside down in a bush. Two guys riding along behind me stopped to help me out, despite my insistence that I was okay and that they should continue on. They claimed that they welcomed the break. Yeah right! No one welcomes a break when you have just gathered speed from a downhill and are about to begin an ascent. However, I appreciated their help as I had somehow managed to really entangle myself in the bush.
Back at my car at the end of lap 7, I began regretting the fact that I had turned down several of my friends' offers to come to the race to support me. I hadn't wanted them to make the four-hour roundtrip out to Laguna Seca, only to have to stay up all night so that they could hand me some food or a charged battery every hour and a half or so. However, as I stood there by my car shivering in the dark, windy night, refilling my camelback and then walking over to the Night Pro tent to exchange my battery, I realized how much I would have appreciated their company at this time. It was lonely with no one around my car to talk to as I prepared for my next night lap. I stalled for a long time before getting back on my bike, as my lower back was completely shot and I dreaded the thought of having to get back on the bike and pound on it some more. I tried all the stretches I could think of, but nothing helped.
In was during the middle up-and-down section of this eighth lap that someone rode up behind me and asked, "Were you at 24 hours of Tahoe a couple years ago?" Wow, impressive memory! How did she remember me from a race two years ago, just from the rear view (must have been my bulging calf muscles!). She said she remembered me because it had been my first mountain bike race and I was riding solo on a borrowed bike. When she said her name was Julie, I remembered who she was, as we had talked for awhile at Tahoe during one of the ascents. She was currently riding for the team Velo Belles (or something like that) and was doing really well.
I really struggled to make it up the long ascent at the end of this lap without drifting off to sleep. My eyelids kept closing on their own and I would take a few pedals with them shut and my head dropped forward, before I would jolt awake to find that I nearly had veered off the road or had in a couple instances. Finally, I made it back to my car where I could barely lift my leg to get off my bike, my back was so shot. A part of me wished I didn't even have to stop to change my battery and refill my water, as once I stopped, it was torture getting back on the bike. While biking, it was almost as if my body was numb to a lot of my aches and pains or I was distracted enough so that I didn't dwell on them. But once I stopped, I felt the pain and fatigue in every part of my body and I wondered how I would get back on that bike. It was also during these pit stops that I started shaking uncontrollably from the cold. While riding I kept warm from the exertion, but the minute I stopped, I was freezing. However, I didn't want to put on a lot of clothes only to have to take them all off again before I started my next lap. During this pit stop, I looked wistfully at people sleeping in the warm car nearby and decided to hop in my car and sit with the heat on just for a few minutes to warm myself up. Big mistake, I should have never gotten in the car, because once I did, I didn't want to leave. Though I didn't stop shaking the whole time I sat in the car, despite the moderate heat (I couldn't figure out how to make it go higher), the thought of going back outside in the cold air and climbing back on my bike with my throbbing back and numb feet was almost too much to bear. But I finally managed to drag myself out and get started on what would be my last night lap.
I have never been so happy to see a sunrise (except maybe at Tahoe) as I was at the end of my ninth lap! It warmed up my core temperature almost immediately, as well as my spirits. I could do this! My goal was to complete three more laps before the end of the race. I made it through the next couple of laps slowly, but with few mishaps. During this whole race I had no idea where I was in the standings, except for the fact that I recalled being passed by a couple of the soloists during the night, so I figured I was near the back of the pack. So when I finished my eleventh lap around 10:45am, I had no idea that all I needed to do was go through the finish line and log my lap to ensure a fourth place finish. In Tahoe, when I had finished what I had thought was my last lap a few minutes before twelve, I was informed that if I did not complete another lap, I would be disqualified. Since I had missed most of the meeting before this race, I had assumed that the rules were the same for this race "If you finish before noon, you must complete another lap and that lap counts no matter what time you finish." I briefly contemplated waiting until noon to cross the finish line, so that I wouldn't have to complete another lap, but then thought I might as well get my money's worth and go for one more lap. So, I refueled, stretched, and chatted a bit before heading out for my twelfth lap about 11:15am. My only goal was not to be the last one on the course, but I figured there would be some riders starting their last lap only minutes before noon who would finish after me. Bad assumption! I had no clue about the 1pm cutoff! However, I set the goal of finishing by 1pm anyway, just so I would have something to shoot for. As I lumbered up the long, grinding hill at the end for the very last time, I noticed fewer and fewer riders on the course. When I was about three quarters of the way up, I looked back and saw no one behind me except the truck with the volunteers from the aid station driving towards me. That could only mean one thing.I was the last one on the course. Just what I had hoped to avoid! All I could hope for was that all the other riders and spectators would be so engrossed in packing up and getting out of there that I would be able to sneak through the finish area unnoticed. Well, that couldn't have been further from the truth. As I rode over the last hill, I heard the announcer announcing my name as well as some other unintelligible words and then all the spectators cheering. I was mortified! How could this have happened! I wanted to turn around and disappear over the back of the hill, but knew that I had to keep riding now. "Just stay on your bike," were my thoughts as I plummeted down the last hill. I let go of my brakes and let my bike fly, holding on for dear life. I somehow managed to avoid taking out all the cones (I hit only one) as I rounded the last turn before the bridge, and it was then that I heard the announcer announce that I had a minute and a half to cross the bridge and make it around the loop to the finish to make the cutoff. I threw my bike on my shoulder, ran up the stairs, and then got back on the bike to ride across the bridge. As I heard all the people cheering and the cow bells ringing, I so badly wanted to ride down the stairs on the other side as I had seen many of the other riders do, but the image of me somersaulting down the stairs with my bike on top of me, quickly put a stop to that idea. I had never attempted to ride down stairs before and this was probably not the time to try it out, especially since I hadn't even had time to clip back into my pedals. I swallowed my pride, hopped off my bike, and ran down the stairs with the bike on my shoulder. I heard the announcer, "45 seconds!" I saw Carrie running out to meet me at the bottom of the stairs. "Go! Go!" she yelled. My heart sank as I realized I had to clip back into my pedals one more time. Why did all these people have to be watching??!! I flailed around for what seemed like an eternity, trying to clip back in, but it was not to be. Finally, I just gave up and began riding frantically around the last little loop to the finish. People were lined up all along the barriers cheering for me. It was amazing! I did not remember ever receiving this kind of reception, even when I had won the World Rowing Championships. I felt like I was Lance Armstrong approaching the finish line for his win at the Tours de France, except I was not in France and I was NOT winning! I was the LAST one out on the course! And I couldn't even clip back into my pedals!! As I rode furiously around the last loop, my feet flying all over the place, everyone continued to cheer and ring the cow bells, despite my obvious inadequacies. They were applauding my effort, not my results. They were cheering for the efforts of all the competitors in this event, because regardless of where one placed, everyone had had to fight exhaustion, hunger, and pain in order to complete this race. There was a special bond between all of us who had endured this test of willpower that those who have not pushed themselves to such extremes will never understand. That is what draws me to these types of endurance tests; the connections you make with complete strangers during such events are like no others.
By the way, I missed the cutoff of 1pm by 10 seconds, but that doesn't really matter, right? |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | extraspeed
Jun 1, 2003 10:27 PM | | emily's story confirms my suspicions that 24 hour racing cultivates all the agony & ectasy of sport |
| Perfecting the Slide | emily
Jun 2, 2003 3:15 AM | | Since I didn't take any photos at Laguna Seca, I figured I would submit this one of my brother and I (behind) in training for the next race... |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | kimmiesue
Jun 2, 2003 5:53 AM | | Emily you are insane. Congratulations. This was a joy and an inspiration to read. |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | freekitty
Jun 2, 2003 5:55 AM | | This woman is truly a warrior.
What a great story ms. dirksen,
though I must admit i am neither shocked nor surprised
by your friendly attitude toward competition
and your inability to "just say when!!" |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | rebecca
Jun 2, 2003 7:15 AM | | From what I read..it is lucky you didn't kill yourself (ie. fall asleep and fall off a cliff).....sounds like an amazing experienc... |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | kakers
Jun 2, 2003 8:21 AM | | Em - this is classic dirksen epic. Way to go! |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | joe g
Jun 2, 2003 10:53 AM | | Wow
what an inspiring story.
First or last, i would call you a hero.
Way to go!
-joe g |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | krisse
Jun 2, 2003 1:28 PM | | Emily - this is classic! Gald to hear you scabs are starting to heal. |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | Colt
Jun 2, 2003 2:46 PM | | Thank God for Duct Tape. An amazing tale and details... I didn't know you could write a story about 24 hours that takes longer than 24 hours to read...but I was fascinated by every turn. |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | leslie burns
Jun 4, 2003 1:22 PM | | Colton? Are you sure you want to spend endless days and nights with this crazy hero of a sister? She asked me to join you when one of the MD guys broke his leg, but I guess it healed and she doesn't realize what stellar shape I have kept myself in working out all these over weight partyers of the 70's in Palm Springs CA. I hope you are able to finish or at least come away with yet another great short stroy!
Leslie |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | leslie burns
Jun 4, 2003 1:23 PM | | EMILY!!! I think I will keep your stories , edit them and make a book. What do you think? |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | hhardy
Jun 2, 2003 11:06 PM | | Nice work, Em! |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | SarahBakerSullivan
Jun 3, 2003 12:26 PM | | Well, I have finally found a diet that works!! As soon as I feel hungry I read Emmy Sue's opening paragraph! When the urge to vomit passes ( which takes about an hour) it takes at least 3 hours before my appetite returns. I have already managed to lose 10 pounds in 2 days. HAHA. Well Emmy I always knew you were a glutton for punishment but now it's confirmed... you are certifiable. Why else would someone so bright subject themselves to such an extreme test while being so thoroughly unprepared. I imagine I will see you soon on Mark Burnett's Eco Challenge. Let me know, maybe I will join you! Looking forward to more exploits you crazy lady! |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | Jennifer
Nov 5, 2003 6:21 PM | | WOO HOO, go Ms. Dirksen! haha I voted for you, although I'm too lazy to read your EPIC story. haha, later.
Jennfer Vu. |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | K.V.
Jun 3, 2003 1:46 PM | | absolutely wow. thanks for the story! |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | konajay
Jun 13, 2003 7:14 AM | | wow thanks for sharing.. I am training for my first 24 hour solo attempt and your story is just what I needed to keep me going thanks again. |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | Joy
Nov 5, 2003 7:48 PM | | dang...ms. dirksen, your like hardcore woman =) anyways this is Joy from your 5th period class at school. gosh darn...i havent read the complete thing yet...it's because of your homework holding me back haha anyways, i hope i can get extra credit for replying to your sotry ma bob. haha im just kidding, well keep on doing what you like doing. and i'll see you in class. |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | Yen
Nov 5, 2003 8:10 PM | | whOa! goOd jOb mS.dIrKsEn! dO i get mOre extra credit?? |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | mayra bustos
Nov 5, 2003 9:15 PM | | Hey Miss.D i voted for you.
late mayra bustos |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | stealth^
Nov 5, 2003 10:16 PM | | g00d j0b m155 d1rk53n y0u own3n3d th3m 411!!!
Kevin Tam |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | Mayra Bustos Sister
Nov 5, 2003 10:49 PM | | Hello Miss.D these is Mayras sister, she is in you third period class and she ask me to vote for you. Good luck! |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | Carrie
Nov 6, 2003 12:44 AM | | Emily, you inspire us all!! Ever thought about writing for SNL? Worst part about my laughing out loud is that I know that every bit of that story is TRUE! I'd lend you a bike anytime. Carrie |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | sarafield
Nov 6, 2003 7:34 AM | | Emily, I'd expect nothing less. you're amazing! |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | gigglez964(Paulina Fierros)
Nov 6, 2003 8:49 PM | | Hey Miss Dirksen.Its me Paulina.Just wanted to tell u that i voted for u.So do i get extra credit? |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | nANcy..ME...
Nov 6, 2003 8:59 PM | | Hey Ms.Dirksen!omg i miss u so much..heeh..well i am really shock that u actually wrote a ten pg. essay!that's what Mrs.Hiatt had told me here i am reading it. I remember quite well, the first day you had come back to school n showed us proof..I was astonished to the fact, that you would do sumthing like dat...UR MY HERO..( i guess ppl have told u dat lots of time already)g2g..hehe |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | christian smith =)
Nov 6, 2003 11:36 PM | | wow gj ms.dirksen! =) `/0U h@v3 |_337 $|<1lLz!
(i get extra credit if im not mistaken) |
| re: Clueless and Clipless at Laguna Seca | goldenshadowz14
Nov 10, 2003 8:25 PM | | hi ms. D!
not in ur class, but in the first period bio next door, good story! must be pretty tuff to get thru that!!! i would have gotten poison oak too!!well, good luck!!
-melissa d. |
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