Gunnison Growler May 29 2021

RACE report, 5/29/21

• 31 miles (on dirt, a couple more on pavement for the neutral roll-out)

• 3,974 ft climbing

• elevation (of Gunnison): 7,703 ft

Kayla (second from the right, in top picture) and I left Golden on Friday afternoon, arrived in Gunnison about 4 hours later, met up with Sam (second from the left in the top picture) for dinner, and collapsed in bed before 10pm. We had considered camping at Hartman Rocks, but given that over 300 people were registered for the insane pain-fest that is the Gunnison Growler, and Hartman Rocks only hosts 50 campsites, we hedged our bets and opted to stay in a motel near the race start. Let’s be honest - the siren call of a mattress and a shower were also large factors in our decision to forego camping, and given that I have slept in the dirt for the past three weekends, I was not completely distraught when she suggested grabbing a motel instead of rolling in the dirt the eve of the race. It was a great decision. In fact, it was such a great decision that I would do it again should I repeat this race next year, which I likely will, since it was such a fantastic weekend. Not everyone on the team had a similar experience, but we’ll get there.

At the motel, we met a fellow racer who was racing in the Largest Category Known to Cycling, aka Men 40-49 (years old). When we saw him in the parking lot pumping up his tires and sporting something what can only be described as a costume shirt, I knew I signed up for the right race. David was wearing a button-up shirt covered in red sequins, and professed a love for “off the couch racing”. He seemed delighted that he had put absolutely no training towards this grueling 31 mile race of relentless rock features, loose soil, and never-ending climbing. Then again, neither had I. Due to bouts of snow and rain over the past month, and trying to stay afloat in grad school, my weekly mileage on the bike averaged to about to the race distance. Not great. Out of the 82 people in his field of Steve’s, Brian’s, and other 50+ year old buds, he placed in the top 50. Not bad.

I was very nervous about this race - the combined distance and elevation on dirt (most of which was sustained effort singletrack sprinkled with technical rock features, not just yer ol’ fire road climb) terrified me; the last time I pinned on a bib number was in 2019 (well, I guess I did Old Man Winter earlier this year, but snapping Instagram stories while pushing your bike through snow wasn’t exactly race prep, as fun as it was), and when I visited Gunnison two weeks ago to pre-ride the course with Dawn, I thought I was going to succumb to a heart attack- my body was so taxed. It ends up that Dawn is a Really Fast Beast (she placed third in her category, and averages over 9mph on most of her mountain bike rides. Oh, Dawn), and I had a throat infection (it was weird - only one of my tonsils grew a thick mat of white algae; the other tonsil was completely unaffected). So the race actually felt "easier” than my pre-ride of the course, since no longer was I breathing through an aquarium, and I had the benefit of feeding off the energy of all the Steve’s and Brian’s (and some women!) who surrounded me. Race energy is something else - everyone is pushing themselves to excel (or after mile 20, just to keep the pedals turning) which is contagious and exhilarating. I remember red-lining it on a climb, not knowing when it would be over, but desperately hoping that the wheels behind me wouldn’t catch up to me. Every rock feature on the trail threatened to topple me over, but somehow I thrust my front wheel up and over every granite boulder and my rear wheel followed obediently. Right as my pounding heart was about to rip through my Girls Gears and Beers jersey on the climb, the crest of the sagebrush-coated hill would reveal itself. Behold - the end (at least, of this climb) is within sight! The grueling climb would surrender to a peaceful flowing descent, and I was almost able to let my guard down and relax. The loose, kitty-litter-like soil was about as grippy as opening a tightly sealed jar with oiled hands, and a few of my teammates’ bloody knees are proof of the need to stay present and active on the descents. I chanted “heavy feet, light hands”, as I rolled over bumps in the trails, flowed over chunky rocks, and swooped through curves, ignoring my surly rear tire as it repeatedly slid out. I felt incredibly peaceful and happy.

I was jarred awake from the peace and joy of riding when my inner thigh muscles started to cramp around Skull Pass, aka mile 13 (or so). It was like a charley horse, but my entire inner leg was spasming. Pedaling was excruciating, but I told myself that despite what it felt like, I wasn’t doing permanent damage to my legs by pedaling. I hoped that by pedaling I would massage the pain away. This was sort of true - the nearly-debilitating cramps would go away for a few minutes, only to return with a vengeance. I guzzled electrolyte beverages at the aid stations, but to no avail. Needless to say, the second half of my race was a bit Type 2, maybe even Type 3 fun, but the scenery was still gorgeous, the trails were still flowy and fun, and when Kayla passed me somewhere around mile 20 I was gritting my teeth in pain but so happy to see another Girls Gears and Beers rider that some internal part of me smiled. Kayla saw my grimacing face, and said - “You don’t need to talk!”, as she followed up with some words of encouragement and scooted past me on the steep, loose ascent. Damn those cramps. If anyone has a solution - please leave a comment.

There was one final trail that everyone seemed to walk their bikes on - The Ridge. This trail reminded me of several dangerous trails I have hiked in my life, you know, the ones that flank a cliff, and with no guardrail, such that if you were to stumble and fall you would plummet to your demise? Right, so I walked my bike on that trail. There were a few riders behind me, and I asked if they wanted to pass me, since at this point in the race I was feeling like a wrung out towel (a towel with muscle cramps). They responded breathlessly, “No”, and at that point I realized that I was not the only rider who was barely managing to keep the tires spinning. I was able to grind out the final miles, and was rewarded with the final descent to the finish line on my favorite trail of the day - Collarbone. Swoopy and fast are the best words to describe it - it was also loose and terrifying (especially when the riders ahead of you were going slower than you, and you didn’t realize it until…uh oh…), but let’s stick with swoopy and fast. I probably got dirt in my teeth, I was grinning so widely.

At the finish line, I was greeted by Cass, Kayla, and Dawn, who had all finished ahead of me and whom I am incredibly proud of. I rode with Cass for the first 30 minutes or so of the race, after which she grew wings and flew down the trail and I never saw her again until the finish. Kayla came in with an impressive time of 4:02, and Dawn placed third in her category (woo!). Soon after, Sam Hardt, Sylvia, Ashlie, and Tina crossed the finish line, and it was such a good feeling to have such a grand group of teammates together. Of the 8 of us, 2 were adamant that they never needed to do this race again. UPDATE: Sylvia says she’ll do it again ;) The rest of us were either willing to try it again next year, or willing to consider it. It’s hard to imagine yourself repeating such an ordeal in the moment, still caked in dirt and sweat (and bloody knees), but I know that I was challenged in a way that I’ve never experienced anywhere else. I’m not a musician, but I imagine that it’s similar to music. That is to say, riding or playing on your own is enjoyable, but doing it with others is a life-affirming experience. Life is affirmed. Can’t wait for more races.

Addendum: I uploaded the photos before I started writing this post; now I’m skimming over the post and realizing I haven’t explained the highlighted result times in the screenshots below. I highlighted one impressive result from a 24 year old guy named Quinn Travis, who finished in under 3 hours. He finished nearly 2 hrs before me, hot tamale! For some reason I thought he was a teenager when I read the results, so his result seemed more impressive. Whatever, Quinn. Don’t be like Quinn Simmons…

I also highlighted results from Jenny Smith, who also finished in under 3 hrs, is 48 years old, a mother, and owner of a coaching practice. She seems very cool, so I plan on reading up on her and perhaps adding her to my list of Inspirational People. Women who shred, especially those over 40 years old, tend to inspire me. Maybe someday I’ll have a shot at being as cool as them ;)

Finally, just a shoutout to Girls Gears and Beers for being such a supportive, fun team. It really made my weekend to hang out with such a rad group of ladies. I can’t wait for the next event!!!

Leave me a comment below!