Wilder & Almanzo 100 Final Wrap

Eight day totals: 162.5M on the bike

                   40.5M on the feet. Thank goodness for a couple bookend travel days. At my age and level of abilities PRs don’t come along unless making up new events and distances. Given that most of the miles were at top end or the days after I’ll go ahead and mark the map with a PR. Of all the hours and miles I can easily isolate the most rewarding ones: 1) the group bike commute home. I miss that. 2) And a few of the middle Taco run miles. While I have a replacement for that, I still miss it a little.

Pre-Race Prep and Taper

Wilder 30k

Less than two weeks before the 5th Annual Almanzo 100 I fired off a request to be considered a late entrant. I was baited to register. A couple days later entry confirmed. Simultaneously I submitted a plea for a late entry into the Wilder Foot Races events. Repeat–entry granted to the 50k. I selected that distance mostly to unnerve Tony~~ figured just lining up next to him would bump up his motivation a bit. Also because I really didn’t figure I’d get into the bike event so I wanted to get in a decent workout for the weekend. Someday I do plan to get a cross bike and someday I’ll figure out the trail/off road bike thing. For now on-the-job training will have to do.

Post-Coffee Stella Scooter Show

Getting in by 1:00am meant no Friday warm-up ride but left plenty of time for coffee and some catch-up before hitting the road. Not ever a regular at Coffee I still miss it. A willing participant whenever possible. Happy Hour started Friday with(at) close of business at the local bike shop: Oneota River Cycles.

Flip Busche Board @ Deke’s

It ended with plates, bowls and glasses of whatever we could handle at T-Bocks.  Yummm. This made the Saturday 5:00a.m. wake-up call perfect.

T-Bocks Fuel Loading

Race Day(s)
An hour after leaving the drive we landed at the starting line; fifteen minutes to spare. We met the rest of our group and I hopped on a loaner bike (endless thanks to Riggs). Fortunately as promised by some of the rest of our group I would likely not end up at the very end of the pack. Taking a look at some of the bodies and equipment I felt confident if I could figure out the bike and how to ride on gravel I’d finish, possibly even middle 1/2. That was important as I didn’t want the rest of my group waiting hours for me as I feared.  That’d be somewhere in the 350-400 range based on a reported 700+ registered. We had a group of five and we rolled around the parking lot until wandering over to the start with a few minutes to go. For a semi-pro summary see here: Almanzo View from a Semi-Pro. My view is a little different and involves mostly fear, minimal conversation, consuming as much fluid as I could manage and a little terror as both my watch and phone batteries drained well before the finish.
Out of control is my version of the start and seven miles in we were staring down a 200 foot drop down loose gravel. Only the first of many on the day and at that point I had my first thoughts of a DNF. Right there. Glide down the hill, turn around, head back and call it a day. After all I had a 50k to run the next day and this would serve as a great warm-up. I lost contact with my group at the top of the hill–clearly I’m missing skills.

Shortly after I ran up on all but Ben. I managed a yell and a wave as I motored on–I truly couldn’t stop for fear of not starting again. Besides it looked as if a couple of them were taking a leak so figured they’d be on my tail in a mile or two. Within that mile or two I ran into my one and only mechanical: the stopper on my camelback came out and was lodged in my mouth as hot sugar-water was pouring down my jersey and right leg. Would have made a great time for me to take a rolling leak as it would have made a nice gooey combo to help attract the remaining dust my sweat missed. Instead I opted to pull over, cough up the plug, jam it back in 

 place, remount and go. Another mile or so and I ran up on Ben. He asked about the rest and I was certain I saw a couple of them zip by as I was pulled over. He slowed (stopped? cannot recall) to wait while repeated my mantra: keep moving forward. In this stretch on another downhill around Mile 20 a top speed of 32+ was recorded. Surely some law of physics prohibits moving that fast on gravel. If not it should. Final highlight (of memory) in the first 30 was a sharp downhill that ended with a wicked left before an exhausting uphill. Several failed to negotiate the downhill left and were sliding off the right shoulder as well as already sitting or remounting after a spill. Again to Riggs: that is a fantastic Jamis X. 

Around Mile30 the team caught me and I gladly latched on. Josh Who is AWESOME continued to maintain a positive attitude and Robby still had that unnerving smile on his face. Barely able to enunciate I mentioned the excellent miles I rode with a group sporting Single Speed 29r kits—Josh Who is AWESOME, “you mean like this one?”. ‘Yeah, just like yours’. “This course is manageable with a single–but I didn’t have in the training so opted out. They’re good guys.”   Awesome. 

I managed to nearly hold their wheels on the run-in to town around 40. Thanks to the RD for this scheduled break. Refueled yet not unloaded I pulled aside Ben, ‘I’m fine, a little cooked but have it figured out. Please don’t have the group wait for me, I’ll be ok, just slower than the team.’  Without further dialogue I went back inside to stand in line. That would be the last I’d see of Ben until finish. 

Mercifully the roll-out of town includes a couple miles of county blacktop. Naturally, of course, it was uphill and unprotected into the relentless hot wind. Miles 40-the next scheduled stop at around 68 found more of the same with a few new twists. Along this stretch an increasing number of riders could be found sitting under trees along the ditches, less talking, more space between groups, less protection from the elements.  Rolling into the second, and final, organized stop we were gifted with shade and a park-like atmosphere. Robby and Ryan were both shirtless and humorless. A tough combo with a little more than thirty to go including a couple killer hills. I forget if I refilled my pack, I must have emptied a bottle or two into it–by now my watch was near dead and my phone was long silent.

Highlights of the last thirty: riding through a dry quarry bed–normally it’s a water crossing; making the correct (right) turn as others were headed off-route; having a conversation with one of the 100k runners up Oriole Hill. Admittedly I had to walk up the last fifty meters or so–cramping all over and spinning tires. Finally starting to see civilization with around eight to go; and a mile asphalt finish. Of course, it was straight south into the wind. All members of the team safely in we hung around the finish long enough to inhale goodies, again admire the top-flight event and argue over our post-race meal. Perfect. 

The End

After a trip back to our weekend landing pad, a brief night out we were on our way back to the start for Day 2. Naturally I down graded my entry to the 30k, counting on the rest of our group feeling at least close to as bad as I. Given that Riggs was intent on adding to his 52 (run) mile total for the weekend it seemed we all telepathically figured we could grind through a somewhat miscalculated 30k-that-was-really-21 Miles. 

Fortunately we were somewhat numb which deadened the impact of the sun and somewhat tempered wind. Conversational nearly the entire way we were content to click off 8:30s(ish) and walk the significant uphills. Mostly conversation landed back with how far Tony was leading the simultaneously run 50k, how far little-non-AWESOME Josh was leading us, how poorly Ben predicted the cloud cover and when Riggs was going to leave us and run down little Josh. After his 52 mile effort the previous day. The latter being most important of course. 

By my count just after Mile 14 Riggs put it into gear to begin the hunt. By mile 16 as we rounded a sharp left and dropped into a quarry and ran into the well placed aid station Riggs was on fire. Climbing out of the quarry we witnessed proof: footprints that were only half there. The front/toe half. We knew he had a shot. After our final climb at 16.5 it was a steady push into the wind for the last few miles. Minus a bunch of wind for me thanks to my human shield Ben. While beat down I was at least able to carry on a semblance of conversation with the wind-aid. 

We finished in time to see Riggs driving backwards on the course to cheer Tony who by now was an hour up on the #2 guy. Only after he came back did we learn he (Riggs) not only beat Little Josh he put eight minutes into him over a seven mile distance. Only one word for it: Riggs. We had time to change and reflect on the great weekend, organization, volunteers, venue, race direction, et al. Tough to beat. 

We heard someone yell finisher and walked the few meters back to the start/finish to witness Tony capture his first W –and in an Ultra at that! Way to go Tone. 

A better weekend would be difficult to build.