|   Phtoto Essay | Andrew Markham
Oct 15, 2003 2:57 PM | | Fear and Loathing at the 24 Hours of Adrenalin
What are you're about to read is true. Names have not been changed, and identities will be disclosed so that all who participated in the following event will be accountable and fess up to their deeds.
24 hour racing is not for everyone. Let's get that out of the way. You either enjoy staying up all night, riding until you hallucinate, having smoke and dust saturate your lungs, and harvesting saddle sores like a cranberry farmer...or you don't. Yet 1200 riders, racers, friends, enemies, co-workers and a merry band of drunken, bocce ball participants (I'll get to them later) gathered in the beautiful venue of Mountain Center at Hurkey Creek, California to do all those things and more. Even some middle-aged, mid-life crisis jerk from Team Basso couldn't dampen the carnival mood that started on Friday and continued through the racing of Saturday and Sunday.
Our Team, Ride It Out, entered the event as a 5 person co-ed team. We were five friends that had met and competed at various events throughout the Western U.S. and thought, yeah, a 24 race sounded like a neat idea. Twenty five teams had signed up for our category, including last year's winner Team Hammer Gel. Word out on the street was they were the team to beat. There was even a rumor circulating the camp area that they were smuggling Eastern European Bloc track racers hopped up on Andro and that they had brought with them a new grafting technology that could replace legs between laps. A strong team they proved to be, and since they ended up winning, the Andro/grafting rumor must have been true.
Our team centered around our faithful team captain, Tim, whose lanterned jawed, All-American face, should be on the cover of a Gentleman's Quarterly. There were times when his good looks angered me at the gene pool that I fell in. Our entire team got along great and all rode at about the same level except for Tim who was a good 3 minutes faster per lap than the rest of us during our reconnaissance trips the prior three weekends. Those trips ended up being beneficial. Beta on the course and some training at race elevation helped, especially when we all live about 40 feet about sea level. Back to our team. Like a cute mutt from the pound, the team's blood line was questionable and mixed from all over the world. We could have entered as a U.N. corporate team to race and spread racial harmony if only for a 24 hour period. I imagined a world where bikes replaced guns and GU replaced drugs
Tim and I got to Mountain Center first on Friday afternoon and set up the camp area while awaiting the arrival of Linda, Ruben and Alberto. Right after dusk, Ruben's truck pulled in, but only Ruben and Linda emerged. Uh oh. Ruben informed us that Alberto had to work and would be out in the morning. OK. Then he mentioned that our volunteer, who had surgery recently, had to go back to the hospital due to complications. Ouch. I had heard that Trilife was a real stickler with regards to volunteers, and teams that did not have a volunteer were beheaded where the midnight corn roast used to be in full view of the entire race populous .or worse.they were disqualified. The disqualification was enough to send us in a panic and we canvassed the entire camp area hoping to find a kind sole that had the time to volunteer on our behalf. We did not get any takers Friday as we walked from campsite to campsite.
"Do you have an extra person who could volunteer?"
"No"
Next campsite.
"Do you have an extra person who could volunteer?"
"Yes we do, what shift?"
"Uh..the 4:15am to.uh. 9:30am shift."
"No"
We went to Team Basso and they must have overheard us at the campsite next to them, because as our plea left our mouths, we were interrupted by a terse, "Goodbye" from one bison.
"Could you at least."
"Good BYE"
"Yea, but our Volun."
"GOOD BYE!"
Denied! And the spirit of mountain biking actually dimmed for a brief moment. We were so taken aback by this "monthly" warrior's attitude that we didn't even know what to say or do. So we took a deep breath, and retreated in silence with our tails between our legs, resigned to the fact that we were just going to have to each take an hour shift to fill that heinous time slot. Would the race organizers even allow us to do this? Would they only remove a couple of digits, and which digits would they remove? This 24 hour racing stuff is rough and we haven't even walked up to the starting line.
As we walked away from our esteemed Basso associates, a raucous roar erupted over by the race pavilion. Remember the bocce ball from earlier? That's right the game played by granddads in cruise wear with rheumy eyes and mouths stained with the tannins of Merlot. You know how it is played: you roll one ball on a grass lawn, and then roll another ball close to it. Well, apparently there is a bocce ball resurgence happening at the 24 hour races and holding court was a bunch of SoCal riders primed to fly the bocce tradition, and beer was their copilot. The SoCal gang would throw the pallino (the target ball and I am not making this up) somewhere in the venue area - preferably where there was heavy foot traffic. Then they would take turns throwing "pointing" shots, "spock" (or as some refer to it as "raffa") shots, or "bank" shots. As a passerby would unknowingly walk near one of the balls, the SoCal Bocce contingency would start yelling and laughing. If there was a shot that was going to change the face of the game or potentially end a marriage, then more yelling and more laughing. Even as our team got back to camp area G, we could still hear the game going on. 24 hour racing has truly come of age and it warmed our hearts to see the festival atmosphere preserved. I never found out how they did against their nemesis, the NorCal riders, but the beer assured there were no losers.
Back to the race. Remember there IS a race going on here. We went to sleep in our tents that night and early Saturday morning Alberto, our missing fifth rider, arrived and the team was complete.except for the volunteer. As it turned out by midday a woman from another camp said she would volunteer for us, and after she made sure the keys fit into the Mercedes we offered her, we were able to focus on the race. The great thing about 24 hour racing is that most of the pros stay away from it, and your average sport class hack can actually do pretty well. Furthermore if you can get, say, 4 or 5 hacks together, you got yourself a team and a chance to compete for a podium position. Most of us have done the Warriors Society Vision Quest race and other long distance races, but team racing in the big TWO FOUR is really about connecting one sprint after another. I don't cotton to that. My old limbs are better suited to limp along mile after mile after mile waiting for my competition to drop, not wham bam thank you ma'm 50-minute laps.
Tim started us off and finished the two pre-laps in eighth place. The guy was amazing and his teeth actually got whiter as the race wore on. Linda, who when not winning the Cal State series in her division, is a graduate student at UCI and she kicked butt. Ruben, a history teacher, was unbelievably, consistently fast both day and night. Alberto, who throws pizzas, got stronger as the laps added up and looked the freshest after the race. And I, the finance geek, turned in some decent laps as well. It was all working out great and we were hanging in third place, but we couldn't quite catch the second place team much less the cyborgs from Hammer Gel. After every lap Hammer Gels teammates came back to the transition tent, replaced their legs with bigger legs than the previous lap. By their 28th lap, the final rider's legs had morphed into some sort of banyan tree mass of muscles and veins.
Unfortunately, as with all racing, one mishap can mean curtains and you can drop five places. Our mishap happened to me during my 3:30 am shift. Ah, I love character-building moments. I was on schedule to completing a 57 minute night lap, feeling good when tragedy struck me and my chain like the preacher in Caddy Shack having the golf game of his life cut short when the Big Man upstairs smote him with a lightening bolt as he is ready for that last putt. Well, chain suck had smote me. Not your ordinary I'll-just-pedal-backwards-and-then-continue chain suck. This was metal-shavings-everywhere-and-I'm-not-going-anywhere chain suck. For the life of me, I couldn't seem to get the chain out from between the small ring and the bottom bracket. It looked like the chain was now actually welded to the frame. One rider passed me. I saw stars wheeling above me as time blurred by. Another rider passed me. YEEES, I finally got the chain free. Oh sh#t, I had a link that I needs to be taken out. Another rider passed me. And then I had one of the crystalline moments when everything comes together. I had the chain link removal of my life. I got on the bike, wild-eyed panicky adrenalin racing through my veins like Lance during the penultimate stage in this year's Tour, when a bag innocently loops his handle and down he went. I laughed and cursed at all my friends for the grief they gave me for constantly working on my bike, tinkering, while they took their bikes to the local bike shops.
I crossed the finish line and ran over to the i.e. bikes booth and asked if they had a 9 speed Shimano chain. Bless them because hey did and so I dropped off my bike and sulked back to camp. As I came in to camp, Tim and the others ask what happened and where was my bike. As I told them what happened, I could saw the look in their eyes. They weren't concerned for me at all. They stared at me with blank eyes as they silently feverishly calculated how much time my lap cost the team and how many places we were going to drop. I went from teammate to pariah in about 5 seconds. As it turned out that night lap from hell was 1:04 and my status was subsequently upgraded back to "teammate in good standing". I had contributed and that is all you can as for as a teammate.
As noon approached, the fourth place team made a huge, unbelievable push and finished strong (they must have got some of those Team Hammer leg grafts) but we stayed in front of them by 6 minutes. 6 minutes! After racing around the clock the difference separating our two teams was 6 minutes and looking at the 1200 other happy riders, we knew that everyone had won.
As our team took the podium, we congratulated the other two teams and asked for the phone number of the grafting lab, but to no avail. Awards were handed out and pictures were taken. We went back to camp, relaxed for about an hour, and then packed up to head home. Not a lot of words were spoken. We were focused on getting out of Dodge. Yet in our silent work, we all smiled and felt the bond that had further developed. It's funny how in times of stress and total physical exhaustion that happens.
On the way home we found the solace and comfort that only an In-N-Out could provide. Through the silence, there was a lot of eating and more smiling. An employee asked if we had come from the race and all we could muster to say was "yeah we did". But our smiles told him everything.
PICTURES WILL FOLLOW IN A DAY OR TWO.... |
| re: Phtoto Essay | dave pelman
Oct 15, 2003 8:40 PM | | Andrew,
i'll tell you what it was.
after every fast lap we would be awarded with beef jerkey and clam chowder.
no grafting. no eastern bloc track racers. although i am candaian.
does that count?
it was a pleasure to podium with you guys.
great report.
dp-Team HammerGel Socal. |
| A penny for your thoughts... | Carter Taylor
Oct 17, 2003 2:30 PM | | As you have ridden solo and as a teammate recently, what are the negatives and positives of each? |
| A penny for your thoughts... | Andrew Markham
Oct 22, 2003 9:16 AM | | Hey Carter,
I have done 5 person, 4 man, and 2 man teams, but have not yet done solo. I am planning to do it this coming year. Wish I had some good advise to offer you besides don't wreck, don't bonk and ride fast. For me, I seem to do better if I eat what I normally eat. My stomach gets all out of sorts if I try to eat too healthy during the race. I do better with "normal" foods and slamming a soda a couple of times during the race.
-Andrew |
| Great writeup | Carter Taylor
Oct 17, 2003 2:22 PM | | Great writeup and good job. Took me away from my office for awhile and back to Idyllwild. |
| | Todd Carpenter
Oct 22, 2003 7:33 PM | | I've been reading your stuff Chris. It sounds like you've had quite a season. I did Hurkey Creek solo as well. It's a great course. Keep up the the hard work. |
| Phtoto Essay | Andrew Markham
Oct 27, 2003 3:31 PM | | Thanks Todd, but I have done several of the catagories EXCEPT the solo which I will try in 2004. If Trilife does another SoCal event which it looks like they will, then I will probably enter that one as a solo....otherwise 4 or 5 persone team again.
-Andrew |
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