Mohican MTB 100 is a 100 mile loop that starts out in Loudenville, OH, spans 4 counties with 11,000+ feet of climbing along mostly singletrack, doubletrack or dirt roads. It was by far the most beautiful NUE race I have done! The time on my bike flew by as I explored the remote and scenic areas in the rolling hills of Mohican Country. The singletrack was super twisty with challenging rock gardens thrown in to make sure you were awake. The torrential downpour they had the day before made the first half of the day extremely muddy and slick with a couple straight up hike-a-bike sections that were even hard to walk up! Off-cambered wet, slimy roots just kept trying to throw me off my bike. There were many stinger climbs lasting nearly a mile with elevation gains of 300+ feet. Overall, the majestic beauty of the land and the camaraderie of the folks out there allowed me to have this smile after the race.
There were events...events that cost me time and happiness. My spirit was crushed at the end of this race. I thought I was going to set a PR. Everything was going great leading up to this race; good training rides, I spent time with the snake rocks, my nutrition was golden, and I was feeling more excitement than dread about the day ahead of me. I had read about the course, knew what to expect, planned my aid stops, and was prepared for the brisk 50 degree start. I really do try to have a good attitude when the the unexpected happens because that's just part of mountain biking. Most of the fun in the sport is living through the challenges, making lasting memories, and coming out a tougher rider in the end. I realize now that you can only make so memories in one day, when the bad ones start to push the good ones out of the way, it just becomes demoralizing.
About 1.5 hrs into the race the singletrack opens up to doubletrack and you are SURROUNDED by a forest of huge cedar trees about a foot from each other. The forest floor beneath my tires was soft old needles that made a slight crunching noise as we rode. It smelled like the inside of a log cabin. I wanted to bottle up that moment and save it for a rainy day, the BEST memory of the day. What followed this was the worst memory of the day. Near the end of this section I found myself leading a pack of about 10 guys, we were riding 2 abreast at a comfortable pace. All of a sudden I hear this guy say, "passing on your right." I had a guy on my left, and there was clearly no room to pass on my right, but I wasn't the one to make that judgement call. So, the guy begins to pass me and his pedal clips my back wheel and he is thrown off balance, wobbling side to side for a second or two until he finally reaches out with his left hand to grab something to avoid a crash landing. In the meantime I am yelling at him to "let go!" and "get off me!!" Well, he ended up grabbing my butt, got a handful of my bike shorts, and ripped them to shreds as he fell over. I am still amazed that I stayed upright. I felt the immediate breeze back there and reached back to cover my exposure, but there was nothing left! I had a waist bad and a leg band, but nothing in between! The other guy behind me said, "yah, he ripped your shorts pretty bad". I had to pull over to assess the situation, and all those guys passed me, including the molester! It was bad. My right butt cheek was entirely exposed, my chamois shifted forward and to the left (not where I needed it), and my crack was exposed when I stood to climb. I was humiliated! I had nothing to tie around my waist, no bandanna, no safety pins, nothing. I was gonna have to ride like that for 10 more hours! I don't know why, but I stood there for about 5 minutes wondering what the heck I was going to do. More people just kept on passing me. I had to press on, and just show my ass.
It didn't take long for my humility to turn to anger. I was mad at that guy for ruining my race, I was mad that he didn't apologize, I was mad that it was his fault, but yet he gets to ride in perfectly sewn shorts that cover his butt! I will never take my shorts for granted. I wanted to give him a piece of my mind and get the apology that I deserved, so I hunted him down. I passed people one by one in a fury that was new to me. I started climbing up these mild switchbacks and I saw him on the trail above me...game on. Passing 4 more people I finally made it up to him. After having all that time to think of what I was going to say, I exploded and went Rachel Redneck on him! I did not cuss or say mean things to him, but I did not stop talking until I got an apology. He laughed at me, gave me a halfway apology, then wrecked BAD right before my eyes. He was on his back, bike in the woods, and looked stunned. It was then that I shut up. I stared him in the eyes as I passed, and after I saw he was breathing, I may or may not have said something about karma. I never saw him again.
Aid 1, mile 20, I spend way too much time trying to find someone or something that I can patch my shorts up with...nothing.
Aid 2, mile 34, same scenario, more minutes wasted, and my butt is still hanging out of my shorts. It was interesting being the girl everyone was talking about and staring at. I made sure that my story was known because for some reason I didn't want people to think that it was my lack of bike-handling skills that cause me to wreck and rip my shorts. I had been pleased with the way I was handling my bike. I was starting to think my exposure was a good tactic, I was making lots of friends and no one was really wanting to pass me! I kept thinking about girls that wear string bikinis on a very populated beach, and since that is acceptable...well, it made me feel somewhat better.
Aid 3, mile 46, I had stopped twice already to re-apply chamois butter, but the way my chamois was pulling to the left I was chafing in a way I never thought possible. I had to fix my shorts. I wasted more time asking around for items to patch me up, still nothing. I found a peaceful corner and emptied my camelbak in search of anything I could use. I found superglue. It was part of my tire patch kit. I exhausted the tube on my butt and it soon became part of my bike short patch kit. Aside from pulling my shorts in a weird way, it worked! It wasn't until mile 80 that I noticed it coming undone and at that point I didn't care. Here it is:
Please appreciate your shorts. Some of you are probably wondering where my team shorts are and thinking, "well, your team shorts wouldn't have torn." It was a last minute decision. I was already dealing with saddle sores and chafing from the week prior and I needed the extra cush and comfort these shorts provided. Any more questions, feel free to contact me directly. Molester, if you are reading this, you owe me a pair of shorts!
Since this post is already way too long, I will briefly sum up the next 2 bad events. At Aid 3 they lost my aid bag that I desperately needed. I was forced to eat solid food from the aid table that never did sit well with me. Finally, this guy hands me my bag and says that he found it in the trash can. Wonderful. So, as I am placing my powder in my camelbak and replacing my flask I hear someone say, "don't forget to take a left turn out of the aid station". Well, after spending about 20 minutes at that aid, I plow out of there, head down, and take my left, following 3 other guys. About 2-3 miles down the road I see 100k written in orange on the road. Crap. I turn around, ask a fellow rider, and learn that the 100 milers take a right out of that aid 3. More lost time.
Around mile 66 there is a long section of rails to trails. I was with a group of 7 guys and we had a fantastic pace line going, sharing the work, until we were stopped by a roped off covered bridge. The gate keeper said the bridge was closed and gave us directions on how to go around. We politely turn around, cover the 5 miles we had just done, and get back to an intersection when we realized that we had missed the first turn the guy told us to take. By this time our group of 8 had grown to about 15 as we turned others around telling them the bridge was closed. Then we started thinking about why the bridge was closed. One guy said that it looked like a wedding was going on. At that point we had decided to be wedding crashers. We had no idea where we were and we were racing. We went back to bridge, talked to the gate keeper, we walked our bikes over the bridge, rode through the 15 people attending/taking part in the wedding, said congrats to the bride and groom, got many dirty looks, and were on our way. Our pace line continued to be a success and I spent token after token in attempt to stay with that group because I did not want to get dropped. I found out later that many racers rode straight through the wedding while vows were being said and rings were being placed. That explained the dirty looks we got, it was at least over when we arrived. So, more lost time.
Around mile 72 you start the hill repeats. There are six of them, and they are straight up for a mile or so. I was coming unglued. I wanted to make up time, but I couldn't climb fast enough. A guy slowly crept up behind me and said, "looks like we're the last 2 out here." That is not what I wanted to hear. I passed ole' Pessimistic Pete and threw my own little pity party as I watched the time pass way too fast.
My final time was 11 hours 13 minutes. I was 12th out of 19 open women. I finished! I dealt with the demons and came out on top (kind of). I am a little less modest and lot tougher after this race. I am better at taking what I am dealt and rolling with it. AND, I will always have superglue in my camelbak.
