Like most mountain bike racers, I had begun to put together a schedule for the 2010 season late in 2009. I was not sure what events to sign up for this year, and how much my schedule at work would permit. Not to mention the other important factors such as our family and three kids going all directions for their various activities and camps. Having raced for a bit now, I have come to realize that I principally enjoy races that are longer and are not repetitive loops. Races that have some nice scenery and lots of climbing are appealing as well. In April of 2010 my oldest son Todd would turn 13. I asked him if he’d like to go to a race in Oregon in June that would give him an abbreviated version of the
Cascade Cream Puff? In typical fashion, I received the jubilant “sure!”
So, we signed up for the Test of Endurance in Blodgett, Oregon. It was part of the US/Kenda Cup Series and I believe the only marathon. He was to do one loop of 25 miles [
course details/elevation profile] climbing about 4200 cumulative feet. The standard race was two loops. Todd’s mission, finish the race. We put together a bit of a training schedule which included riding a lot in the Rattlesnake on wet days, such as the waterfalls post below. It also included some harder days of tempo intervals, though as one can imagine, doing these and maintaining enthusiasm is a delicate balance. Not too long prior to the race, he climbed to the snow line just below Blue Point which gave me the confidence that he could probably finish the race. And, after all, as a friend had reminded me over coffee on a Friday morning, “it was only a bike race.”
We had studied the course a bit online, noting where the check stations were and what the climbing situation was. It appeared a lot of the climbing would be on private timber roads along with many single track descents. He was going to race on “Marlin” and I was going to break in Red. However, the Big Sur was going to come along as well just in case we needed a back up.
Friday, we did a straight shot from Missoula to Corvallis. I’d never been there. It sits right along the Willamette river, which along this section, is a larger flowing body of water that looks perfect for rowing. We then got a general idea how far it was to Blodgett from town, and then shot over to Newport since it was nearby as well. It was raining and cold.
Saturday, I wanted to do a little pre-riding prior to the registration which started at three o’clock. However, we ended up riding a bit around the general area rather than the actual course, as I was not sure how to find the single track sections, and there was some logging going on along the road. The equipment checked out fine (thanks for the help Herb!). The lower road had fresh wet gravel on it and immediately started climbing. We climbed it for a while after visiting with another racer from the Washington coast, and then headed to warm up and dry off. Mike had the pre-registration very well organized. The tables were set up alphabetically by racers last names. The Mudslinger volunteer at our table asked what Todd was intending on racing, and we firmed one loop. She also mentioned she had just recently broken her collar bone and was not able to race. The swag bags were filled with goodies including Hammer products, Mudslinger socks and a US Cup Series T-Shirt. The school gym area, where we were, seemed oddly quiet however, and I wondered where all of the racers were?
We drove back to Corvallis to get some dinner. I asked a guy at Safeway where we could get some spaghetti in town (the LR’s favorite), knowing a nice college town like this had to have some available somewhere. The guy said, “You know, I’ve lived here for thirty years, and I honestly know of nowhere in town where you can get spaghetti.” I remembered seeing an Applebees not too far out of town and headed there. However, I failed to find it and accidentally stumbled upon the below Italian Karaoke Restaurant. We were in business and quickly loaded up on an excellent spaghetti and cheese pizza dinner.
The night prior to the race, we took advantage of the racer’s discount and stayed at the Holiday Inn Express which had a great view of the river and a reasonable rate. Race morning I had some scrambled eggs and two small bagels. Todd stuck with the bagel. Trying to talk a kid into drinking a lot of water the day prior to and morning of an event is not an easy thing to do. “There is a reason for this.” I was drinking water non-stop Saturday and Sunday morning prior to the race. He did his best to do so as well. Well, the morning of the event, there was no doubt, the racers had found the school as there were vehicles parked on both sides of the road for a long distance and we were near the end. 240 racers. Everyone was wearing long sleeves or shells trying to warm up. It was cool with some slight drizzle at about eight o’clock. We put a drop bag in the bed of a pick-up and had a conversation about whether or not we were going to race in our shells. The race was to start at 09.30. I had a nice visit with Ben (Hammer, Whitefish, MT) who had also made the trek down from Montana. Ben had raced in the pro division of the Bridger Randonee race. Todd, while warming up, also recognized Adam Craig, who he’d learned about watching the movie Off Road to Athens. He had his kayaks on his Subaru, just like in the movie. After the race, the LR gave him a lid which he and Lizzie swapped about the remainder of the day. Super nice folks.
I decided not to race in my shell, but Todd kept his on. It was a mass rolling start down to the logging road, not too far from the below covered bridge, then it was full on. Craig, Decker and the other pros exploded up the first climb, making the new wet loose gravel look like a cake walk. I had crept by numerous racers on the right hand side and continued to try to do so. There was a pretty large wreck involving a half dozen or so racers along the initial road which I managed to avoid staying right. Everything was wet. The climb folded into a single track which was gorgeous and then quickly dropped back onto a road and then more climbing.
This process repeated itself throughout the 25 mile loop. However, the single track and parts of the jeep trails were basically a thick wet buttery mud. Treacherous. After the first few sections of this, I began to find my mind nervously wondering about the status of Todd somewhere behind me. We had discussed the basics pretty thoroughly. If you have questions about a section, walk it. I rode with a small group for part of the first lap, passing people and being passed as we wrecked descending with mud filled front tires. I made the mistake of using race kings too, rather than something more knobby [not that it probably would have helped]. No traction what-so-ever. Slipping climbing and descending. My h/r on the first lap was at threshold for most of the two hours and ten minutes. My goal was to get this race done near four hours. I tried to remain hydrated, while not stopping. I did not stop at the 16 mile check point and poured quickly three cups of Heed into a bottle at the end of the first loop thinking one bottle should get me back to the next check station.
Other than the many little wrecks, I was having a pretty good race. The roots were soaked of course as well, adding to the misery of the situation. Soon however I had drained the bottle prior to the station. Not an issue, as when I got there, as I was riding through, a kind volunteer handed me a new full bottle for the last ten miles. Immediately following the station, I took a swig and swallowed two endurolytes riding down a fast road. However, it slipped out of my hand when returning it to the cage and I made the foolish decision to finish without it. This was the second and only other mistake of the day, riding for two and a half hours on the second loop on basically one bottle. I was riding with another racer in a Hammer kit, and a few other folks. I managed to pull away from them until about the very end of the race when I felt my energy go. I needed fluids. I was also wondering, Where was the kid? Maybe he finished after all! I broke out on the road to the finish and a racing fire truck came blazing by with sirens going. He went around about four or five of us and I though something must have happened to one of the racers. Then, climbing the last road, there was Todd watching his cooked father get passed at the finish line by two other racers. At the end of an almost five hour race, five of us in the 35-44 Cat 1 category finished within one minute of each other. [
cyclingnews article on 2010 TOE] I was sixteenth of 54 cat 1s, but the principal mission had been accomplished. Below, in just under four hours, the LR had climbed 4200 feet and completed one 25 mile loop in seriously cruddy conditions.
Todd was told he had a lot of guts coming to the top of the podium in an OSU Buckeyes sweatshirt being only twenty minutes from the OSU Beaver's campus. The mother-in-law is in Columbus, so he likes the Buckeyes. I'm not sure who the guy was with OBRA helping Mike, but he called his other half's name to come to the podium and then recalled she had already headed out to get ready for father's day. Then he commented that she was a two time Hawaii Ironman triathlete and had told him following this race that it was by far the hardest thing she had ever done. That comment had me thinking for a moment about the day. I came down to this one for the LR; however, it was a tough day.
After the race the fellow in the Hammer jersey mentioned to me on one of his wrecks he had broken his glasses. I had broken the lower water bottle holder and pump off of the frame. I had broken the visor on my helmet and I had pretty well stayed out of the smaller three cogs on the rear cassette above. My saddle bag had survived the course. The volunteers were all awesome.
When we were visiting with Adam and Ben after the race, Ben (an EMT and fireman) mentioned that he had performed CPR and other measures reviving an individual in the area who had had a heart attack. This was why the firetruck was blazing up the road through the finish area to the nearby house. We had decided that following the race, we would head to the St. Joes in Idaho to camp for a night prior to getting back to Missoula. The fishing was poor as the big bugs were not yet out and about. Perhaps the Chinook were coming up, but we did not even make an attempt for the big fish. Actually, we mainly slept in the hammock and listened to the water.
During the long drive to where we camped, Todd said one racer came by him and said she had crashed 24 times. He then said after one wreck he slid down the single track on the roots in the mud and got tangled up between the front tire that had flipped around backwards trapping his foot between the frame and the tire. He said at that point he thought of just sitting there and calling it a race but then remembered our conversation to try to keep pedaling, so he did.
Someone was not pleased she missed out on the action in Corvallis and therefore insisted that we go camping and fishing somewhere locally. There are many options, but we decided to go to what Max used to say was one of his favorite creeks. I also knew this drainage would be lower than most local streams at the moment and clear. Fish Creek is often overlooked for other more popular regional fly fishing water. However, we learned that things have changed recently with the elimination of the bait option. This is welcome news, as I've felt the fishing on this stream needed attention. Although, noting all of the Washington plates, one might believe it is a blue ribbon stream. It's not a far drive on the interstate to Spokane and is pretty well known. There are also many folks floating the gorge at the moment as well which is near where Fish Ck. empties into the main drainage. 
It took a little while, but they finally got to launch their Rogue on the Bitterroot. Tonight being a beautiful sunny evening in Missoula seemed like the opportune time. The river is still up a bit, but now running clear.
My daughter and I decided Thursday night to do a two hour ride around town. So we started out the Kim Williams in some light rain and then caught the single track along the rifle range which connects to the Deer Creek road. This is a fun little track that runs just between the rail road and the range. Coming down the single track heading east, we were surprised by a man hiking his bike up heading back to the Kim Williams. He quickly pulled a camera with a long lens out of his backpack and photographed our descent. I was not sure what to make of it so we just kept riding the track to the Deer Ck. road. We then rode up the road along a pretty tough climb so we made the decision to not make a loop up to Pattee, but to head back the same route and then ride around the trails in town. However, maybe we could catch the guy who took the shots and ask him to e-mail them to us.
