Tuesday, June 22, 2021

Hundo FUNDO? A Crisis of Confidence and Mountain Bikes

 

Hundo Fundo?   A Crisis of Confidence and Mountain Bikes.

 

So it began with a “suggestion” by my wife…”Hey…you should do this race.”  Admittedly, I wasn’t in the mindset for racing anything this year, but the fact that it was at what is arguably my favorite trail system (Buffalo Creek in Bailey, CO), and only 40 minutes from our new condo swayed the deal considerably.  When the email showed up saying that registration was opening…I just went ahead and signed my name on the line.  That was back in March, the race date was June 19th…I figured I’d have plenty of time to attempt to whip myself into some semblance of fitness in the interim.  As with other races I’ve done in locales different from my flat-ass Midwestern home, training for a race at altitude with a lot of elevation change proved to be difficult…and for some reason, my motivation just wasn’t there like it was prior to big stage races like Breck Epic.  As I toed the line on that Saturday morning, all I was thinking was…”OK…the longest ride I’ve done this year has been 40-some miles and about 4 hours.  This is almost 65 miles and 7600 feet of climbing.  That math does not work.”  Confidence levels were extremely low with regard to finishing potential.

 

FORTUNATELY…I had an ace in the hole.  Our new friends Tom and Ginger from Evergreen had introduced me to their friend Scott and his wife Christine at packet pickup the previous Sunday.  The other three were doing the Hundito 50k race, but Scott was doing the big one, and he was basically just looking to have a nice, fun ride and make it to the finish…kinda like me.  Being a CO resident and avid rider, Scott was and is a WAY more fit person than me, and I was reticent to accept his offer to ride together for fear of slowing him down and harshing his overall Hundo experience.  He laughed off my concerns, and said “WE are doing this…and it will be great.”  OK.  Confidence levels slightly improved.

 

After a week of extremely hot temperatures (Michelle and I rode at Buffalo Creek the prior Tuesday in 100 degrees), it was refreshing to be standing at the start line with temps in the upper 50s, going to up to a high of 78…basically perfect weather for a ride…a really long ride.  Scott was all smiles, I was all nerves, and I was pretty concerned about the opening couple miles, which were on two-track, road, and some fire road.  This kind of riding always gets in my head, as the exhilaration of a speeding downhill is so rapidly and painfully replaced by a slow grind in your lowest gear…with the top clearly in sight at all times.  I had to deal with about 9 miles of this, and was completely unsure of how to pace myself and make sure to ride within my abilities to make up the entire distance.  Confidence…wavering at best.

 

At the crack of the gun, we started rolling.  There was to be a two mile neutral rollout, which I have experienced with mixed results in other events.  At times, “neutral” means everyone is chatting and slow rolling…and at other times…it has meant head on the bars, ass on the rivet charging just to stay with the group.  Unfortunately for me and my wavering confidence, this one was the latter.  It was a dusty two track, and Scott disappeared quickly into the cloud.  I followed him past a couple riders, but quickly decided this pace was NOT for me, and I just let him go.  When we hit the first climb, I knew it would be painful, but the added mental weight of how easily Scott rode away from me, combined with watching helplessly (and breathlessly) as rider after rider passed me by was not an easy thing to deal with.  Legs and lungs were burning, and I seriously considered just turning around and rolling back to the truck after about 3 or 4 miles.  Clearly I was in over my head.  Confidence was at zero.

 

About 6 miles of misery in, at the top of a hill…stood Scott.  I was amazed, and more than a little happy to see him, but again, I told him he needed to go on without me, as I had SERIOUS doubts that I would be finishing all 64.8 miles.  He laughed it off and said, “let’s go.”  Another three miles of less-than-fun trail…and we FINALLY hit some beautiful, wonderful SINGLETRACK.  Buff Creek is classic cross country riding.  Roots, rocks, ups, downs, tight turns, awesome berms, drops…it really has everything I love about mountain biking.  I perked up as soon as we hit it, and flew through the first couple miles, picking off riders that weren’t as adept at handling offroad terrain.  Scott was right behind me cheering me on and having fun…and my confidence level edged ever-so-slightly upwards.  THIS…was what I signed up for.

 

We rolled through the first aid station without stopping, I had plenty of water and had just started feeling good, Scott was same.  The Baldy climb was just over 1000 feet…Scott said “This one will take about 20 minutes or so.”  I’m thinking…the LONGEST sustained climb on my “home” trail is MAYBE 2 minutes, lol.  But climb we did, and rolling over the top was another confidence booster, followed by an aid station where I took a couple handfuls of peanut MnMs and ½ of a banana, plus pocketed a gel for later…then onward we rolled.  I was actually ALMOST enjoying myself at this point, but knew I still had a LONG way to go, so my confidence still was not there when it came to finishing.  Onward we rolled.

 

Aid 3 was at the bottom of a super-fun downhill, and while grabbing some more fuel, we were told that the next aid station was a mere 5 miles away.  The only issue was…it was 5 miles…UP.  The Nice Kitty trail was decidedly NOT nice…especially on the steep ramps on the lower part.  Again, we were fortunate with the weather, because the lack of shade towards the top would have been brain-frying.  I found my climbing legs on this one, and was using a bigger gear per my singlespeed roots…I was feeling pretty good at the top when we hit the aid station, which we rolled through pretty quickly.  Only, it WAS NOT THE TOP.  I knew this from looking at the course profile…starting at the bottom of Nice Kitty, it was basically a 12 mile constant incline, and the Colorado Trail followed by Little Scraggy was a recipe for disaster for me.  Any positivity I had experienced at the last aid was dumped in the dirt about ½ way up Little Scraggy…confidence evaporated…and, finally, after about 40 miles…I had to stop.  Scott still stayed with me despite me pleading for him to just take off.  I told him I really didn’t think there was a chance for me to finish at this point.  In spite of my dire condition, I knew that I had to keep going…no Medivac helicopter was going to pick me up and whisk me away to someplace with rum.  I got back on the bike, and topped out Little Scraggy at about 8500 feet and mile 42…and my confidence was all but gone.  Energy level was severely compromised, the needle was bouncing off “E.”  Still, there was over 20 miles to go…but it started with a DOWNHILL.

 

After 12 miles of climbing, we were treated to 8 MILES of downhill.  Talk about putting a smile on the face and a cramp in the calves…again, the longest “sustained” downhill for me locally is just about 1 minute, lol.  I struggled a bit when I washed out my front wheel on a turn and on my recovery, something in my right shoulder popped and suddenly I couldn’t pull up on the bars.  It gradually felt better as we descended, but for a couple miles, I was hurting.  The Shinglemill trail finished off the descent, and OMG it was impossible not to smile.  We were flying, and actually really having fun at that point.  At the bottom, we were greeted by some volunteers telling us the next aid station was only ½ mile away…uphill.  I knew that there couldn’t be many miles left, so…amazingly…I started thinking there was the TINIEST possibility I might pull this off.  More MnMs, more bananas, more water, more electrolytes…anything to fuel myself to the finish.

 

Scott said…all we have to do is get up Baldy again (that previous “20 minute climb”).  Oh boy…only now there were 53 miles on my legs…so 20 minutes was PROBABLY not gonna happen.  We started up a long fireroad incline, then hit the singletrack and went UP.  Then, maybe 15 or so minutes in…disaster struck.  Cramping in my right hamstring.  It came on quickly, and I quickly shut down so as not to pull a muscle.  I had to stop and walk to loosen things up.  Scott read the writing on the wall and left me to my misery, to his great credit.  The remainder of the climb was…well…let’s just say I’d rather not talk about it.  By the time we hit more fire road at the top and climbed some more to the final aid station at Mile 60…I was STILL not confident that I’d be able to finish.  This was certainly proving to be one of the tougher days I’ve had on a bike.

 

I inquired at the aid station about the status of the remaining course…with all hope in my voice…I said “It’s all downhill from here, right?  RIGHT?!?!?!!?”  The course volunteer said…”I wish I could tell you yes, but I can’t to that.”  Sigh.  We ended how the race started…on a dirt road with screamingly fast downhills and agonizingly slow and crampy uphills.  Scott would ride ahead, and wait for me as I struggled to maintain forward momentum, weaving crazily all over the road.  At this point, finishing was inevitable, but just how painful it would be was to be determined.  I kept drinking and taking in electrolytes in the hopes that my leg would not totally lock up…and luckily it did not.  We took the final turn to the finish line, Michelle and Christine and Ginger were waiting to cheer us in, and I happily dismounted after 7 hours 22 minutes and 50 seconds of struggle and…fun?  Yeah…I’m pretty sure I had fun.  I’m still in disbelief that I managed to finish, lol.

 

Post ride was wonderful, as we had free beers, free burritos, and then a tailgate party with our new CO friends.  Next year, I think I’ll skip the riding part and go right to the party part.

 

So many thanks are owed to Tom and Ginger, Scott and Christine, and my loving and supportive wife Michelle.  Another stupid ride in the books…I SWEAR I’m done doing this to myself!  I’m retired!

 

Before the race, I told Scott “I usually finish right in the mid-pack on these things.”  Final results:  92nd place out of 179 finishers.  7 hours 22 minutes 51 seconds. 

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