Details - The race started at 6:30 am. We started with a 4 mile downhill promenade through town behind a sheriff's car until we hit the dirt, where the cop pulls off and the racing starts. It was a mass start and I lined up in the back of the pack, so ended up getting delayed getting onto the dirt. Figured that over 100 miles, starting in the back wouldn't make to much difference. It was a brisk 45F out. I sure was regretting not wearing full fingered gloves as my fingers went into that painful stage just before losing feeling. Thankfully, I warmed up pretty quickly once we hit the first hill.

We started the climb. Lots of people around, so passing was hard. We finished the climb and then dropped down a road to a section of rocky singletrack. Because of the people, the singletrack was also backed up and we all ended up walking it. There is only a few mile total of singletrack on the whole race, so it was annoying to not get to ride this part. Oh, well.

We then climb a fire road and descend the Powerline trail. We were warned about how dangerous this descent could be - the race doctor crashed there a few weeks before and broke some ribs. It was a bit sketchy, but definitely rideable (well, to most, I did get to witness a nice endo).

We get to the first rest stop and my crew sets me up. I then stop at the promoter's food table and refill my CamelBak. Stuff the bladder back in and feel my back getting wet. Pull it out and find that it has sprung a leak. My crew goes off to beg, borrow, or steal another bladder. Stupid me - I have extra bladders at home, but didn't bring any. The leak was at the top, so I could use it so long as it wasn't overly full, but it would keep leaking a bit.

I continue on. I wasn't paying attention to how far I was going - I had my computer set to show the time so that I could know to eat every 20-30 minutes. I get to the second rest stop and it is marked as the 40 mile point. Seems like I had made good time. My crew wasn't there - turns out they had run to town to buy a new bladder, so I beat them there.

After this rest stop, we start the climb. We are now at the low point of the ride (about 9,200') and were about to climb to the high point (about 12,600') in 6-7 miles. Thankfully, the high altitude didn't get to me at all on this race. If altitude problems would have happened anywhere, it would happen as I approached the peak. I was afraid I would have problems after having some altitude problems at the Death Ride (and the highest point of the Death Ride is lower than the lowest point of this race).

The climb goes well, except for some stomach uncomfort brought on by a turkey sandwich from the first rest stop. The last few miles are above the tree line and it gets very gravely and rocky there, so about half of it was hike-a-bike due to the looseness.

I start the descent and get back to the 40 mile rest stop (now 60 miles). My crew was there with a new bladder. Yeah! No more wet back and butt. I continue on to the next rest stop - once again this stretch was pretty uneventful.

It is now 7 hours into the race and one of my crew says "see you at the finish in 2 hours". I start thinking - maybe if I push it I really could finish this race in under 9 hours and get the large belt buckle as a prize (and bragging rites considering that traditionally less than 1 in 10 racers can finish the race this fast). So off I go.

Powerline, with about 2000' of climbing, was a challenge. Some parts had to be walked, others could be ridden. Definitely hurt. Plus my back was starting to act up, so I needed to stop and stretch every once in a while.

We then drop down a fire road and get onto the singletrack. No crowds this time, so I was able to ride the whole thing. Pretty technical with all the rocks. Then I started climbing about 1000' on the road to the top of what was our first climb. I get there a few minutes before the 9 hour cutoff, so know that I won't make it. Oh, well.

Drop down and get to the flats before town. At this point it dawned on me that I was going to finish. The bike could break in half and I could walk it in and still beat the 12 hour cutoff. I've put so much on this race, that this realization made me tear up with joy. Quite emotional for me.

I was still going hard because I wanted to make as good a showing as possible. I had passed maybe a dozen people so far since the last rest stop. I now put it in the big ring and hammered. Between there and the end, I caught and passed another dozen or so racers. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the finish line was in front of me. Made the last climb up to it in my big ring and crossed the line. They hung a medal over my head and I stumbled over to the food tent.

The next day is the awards ceremony. All finishers get a belt buckle (silver for 9-12 hours, gold/silver for under 9 hours) and a hooded sweatshirt with your name and finishing time printed on it. Pretty cool.

The overall winner completed the course in 7 hours 10 minutes, missing the record by less than 10 minutes. Second place was more than 20 minutes behind this hammerhead. Though no overall time record was set, it definitely seemed to be a fast group of racers who entered. 82% of the starters finished in under 12 hours, which was a record. And almost 100 people finished in under 9 hours, which was almost twice as many as I expected.

Would I do it again? Sure would be nice to try to reduce my time so that I can beat the 9 hour cutoff. If I lived closer (say in Boulder), I probably would. But the effort needed to get out to Leadville and acclimate to the altitude is more than I would want to do again. So, for now there are no plans for a repeat performance.

Many thanks to my crew - Pat Donohue (my uncle) and Lance Sanchez (a Teammate). They definitely helped me out a lot. And thanks to Rich Henthorn (another teammate who was out there crewing for some of his family members who were racing) for giving me verbal support as I rode by him.