And another K2N Stage Race is in the books. I have arrived back in the States and, after a long, arduous, and adventurous journey, it is good to be home. This is my official race report. Due to having to add some necessary details, it will be a little extensive. I will try to highlight as much as possible.
Before we get started…
We were scheduled to leave Nashville on Thursday, May 27th. Which, of course, made Wednesday, May 26tha total whirlwind. It was mandatory to acquire a negative COVID-19 test result within 72 hours before leaving Nashville Airport (BNA) and each subsequent airline (Minneapolis and Amsterdam) required the same. I took my test on Wednesday morning and results were in hand within an hour.
It was about midafternoon that Robert, one of the people in our group discovered that the test had to be a PCR type and the other tests were not accepted. A number of the people in our group panicked because, one, it was last minute. Two, a rapid PCR costs about 200 bucks. Fortunately, my test was a PCR type. When I told my doctor what I was doing, he knew exactly what I needed. However, several in the group had to bite the bullet and fork out the cash for the right test. My wife, Ellen, did not have the right test. She panicked because she was at work until 6pm and the clinics offering the test past 6pm were few and far in between. I started calling around and, luckily, found a clinic just near our house that would administer the test as long as we could be there by 6:15. Ellen confirmed that she could leave work a few minutes early to arrive on time. I told her that I would meet her there to pay (yes, 200 bucks) and there was no need to panic. Within minutes, she called and told me that she had been in a fender bender and would not be able to make it on time. I canceled the appointment and started calling around for another. I found a place closer to where Ellen was (filling out an accident report). They could give the test as long as we could be there by 6:30. We made it and she got the test. However, the results would not be in for another 24 hours.
The only thing to do was to attempt to use the antigen test that she already had a result for to get out of Nashville and hope that the PCR result would be in her email inbox before leaving Minneapolis.
The next morning, we arrived at BNA to meet the rest of our group. There were twelve of us total. Somehow, Ellen managed to make it through with her test. As it turned out, they did not recognize that her test was not PCR. And, a PCR was required. I know this because they did not recognize that my test was a PCR type. When they looked at my test, which stated that it was a LIAT test, they questioned it because it didn’t say PCR. Btw, a LIAT test is a brand of PCR and BNA officials do not know this. I had to call my general practitioner to have him email a signed document stating that my test was PCR. This all happened while trying to acquire a boarding pass. After some deliberation, we were all good to go. (We have learned that your experience at the airport terminal/gate depends on the representative serving you. Some of them want you to have a good experience, others just don't give a damn.)
Just hours later, we were in Minneapolis airport, at the gate ready to board. And, Ellen does not have her test result. And, they were diligently screening the tests. Here are Ellen’s options: One, pay an additional 200 bucks at the airport for a PCR rapid result test. Two, stay in Minneapolis until the next opportunity to fly to Amsterdam, which could be another week (not happening). Or, three, try cheating. We went with three. So, we took the test result of another person in our group and just folded down the name at the top. The people working the airline were so unorganized and frustrated that they just looked at the result of the test. They didn’t even look at the name on it. It worked.
Eight and a half hours later we were in Amsterdam. We ate some food and, by that time, Ellen had her own test result. We then boarded the KLM flight to our final destination to Kilimanjaro Airport. When we landed in Kili, we still had to take another COVID test. We were aware of that one and it was only 25 bucks. It took a while for everyone to make it through all of the red tape but we did it. And after that, were good to go. At least, that’s what we thought.
There were 12 racers in our group. That means there should be 12 bikes waiting for us at the baggage claim, right? There were only 5. Seven of us filed claims. We were mad, anxious, and frustrated. But, here’s the thing, we had safari plans for the next few days. The race didn’t start until Tuesday, June 1st. There was plenty of time to recover 7 bike bags and get them to us, right?
On Monday, May 31st, all of the racers are at Simba Farm Lodge (staging area for stage 1 and 2 start) and seven of us STILL do not have bikes. The estimated value of the 7 missing bikes was $50k. The race director, Brett Harrison, went to work sourcing local bikes for us to race the first stage on. He only found three bikes for the first stage. Since I was not too happy about racing a bike that I had not trained on, I asked to be one of the people to skip the first stage with hopes that my bike would arrive for stage 2. I felt good about this decision. The director even told me that I could have the option to come back later and race the first stage so that I would have a complete general classification result. So, along with three other racers, I sat back at Simba Farms Lodge while the other racers started the race.
All was well until the racers started to finish and tell their stories for the day. Then, I got really frustrated. I worked hard for this race. I paid a lot for this race. I made a lot of sacrifices so that I could be my best for this race. And now, here I was, sitting on the sidelines watching. It hurt. Then, there was that lingering fact in my head that the airline still had not recovered my bike. Yes, that’s right, the location of $50k worth of mountain bikes was unknown. We called numerous times and they continually told us that our bikes were at the Kilimanjaro Airport. Of course, they were not at the Kilimanjaro Airport. I tried to stay optimistic that I would start stage 2 on my bike. Then, just after dinner, the news came. The bikes had not been recovered and there was no way the bikes would arrive for stage 2.
Of course, you think about the worst. I kept thinking about how my bike was probably getting tossed around between planes like a sack of corn. But, I also continually reminded myself. "Don't worry, it's REV'd carbon." Thanks Guerrilla Gravity.
The race director started looking for more local bikes. He called all the mountain bikers he knew. By late Tuesday night, he found several more. I mean, they were good bikes ten years ago. Out of the group of loaners, I spotted a Salsa hardtail. It wasn’t the looks of it that caught my eye. Out of the all the bikes, it was probably in the worst shape. It was even missing a lot of parts. It wasn’t the Salsa name, the tires, or the group that caught my attention. But, I saw that it had sliding dropouts. If you know me and you know a little about bikes, you know where this is going. The race director also provided a large container full of old parts if needed. So, I built up a Salsa Timberjack single speed. And so, my race begins.
STAGE 2
Stage 2 is the longest stage of K2N. It’s 52 miles of rough terrain. There’s not a lot of climbing but, toward the end there’s a few deep sandy sections that really inflate the heart rate. But, I had rather be on a single speed than fighting the gears on an unfamiliar bike. I did not get much time to pre-ride the bike, but I was confident in my build and I had very little time that morning to test it out. The race started at 8AM. I went with the lead pack and stayed as long as I could. The first 10k of stage 2 is a long, gradual downhill. Since I was pushing a 32x19 gear ratio, it was hard to hang on to that group. Local legend, Thad Peterson, was sitting right behind me. We stayed together until we hit the bottom of the first descent and Thad quickly pulled away. I felt something strange in the front end of the bike. It was making a rattling noise. I stopped and adjusted the front quick release. While doing this, a group of ten passed me. Anxiously, I jumped back on the bike and caught the group. The bottom of the first descent transitioned into a rough section with large bowling ball-sized rocks and vicious thorn-clad acacia trees. I was able to thread the needle through this section, pass the full group of ten, and put some distance on them. I climbed and descended the only real hill on the stage pretty fast, which widened the gap a little more between the group and myself. The leaders, along with Thad, still had a good lead on me. The next twenty-five miles were flat. A good part of it was gavel. I just found a fast cadence and maintained rhythm.
I made a quick refill at the first aid station and saw no one in site. I hit the trail again with thoughts that I might see Thad. I reached about mile 30 and started to feel some fatigue. I thought that it might be that I didn’t get a good warmup or that I haven’t been accustomed to the high cadence on the single speed. But nonetheless, I was feeling it and I still had over 20 miles to go. I hit the second aid station, refilled water, ate some fruit, and shook my legs a little, but I didn’t waste any time.
It was about mile 35 that I hit the sand. Also, the heat was getting cranked up. I knew my pace had slowed down, but when I hit those deep sand pits, it was like running upstream. I started to come apart. My stomach was churning, I was nauseous, and I felt some cramping in my adductors. I think I was suffering from a little heat exhaustion. I found a small acacia bush to stop for some shade. I fueled up and decided to make a quick bike check while under the shade. It was that moment that I made a painful discovery. My front hub was nearly seized. I tried to spin my front wheel and it would only move about 6 inches. As it would seem, when I snugged down the front quick release, it somehow pinched everything together and I had been riding it like that for 30 miles. It also seemed that the fork dropouts had been reamed so badly that the quick release would not close without pinching the hub. So, the solution was to open the quick release fully and slowly ride the rest of the stage without pulling on the handlebars too hard. A quick jerk of the bars would pull the fork right off the wheel.
I lost several positions after that. After five and a half hours of hard riding, I was physically and mentally beat and defeated. But, I kept telling myself that it was a long race, this was only one stage, and I would have time to make up for it. And, I was still optimistic that I would be on my bike for the rest of the race.
When I arrived at the finish line for stage 2, I was greeted with the good news that our bikes were on the way. KLM (airline) accidentally misplaced the bikes in Amsterdam and they would be at our camp the next morning.
STAGE 3
I woke up early the next morning. I have never been a good tent sleeper and I was pretty anxious to see if my bike bag would be outside of my tent. It was still dark but I could hear other people chatting. I opened the zipper of my tent and there it was, an EVOC bag with AT painted on the side. (I bought it used from a person with the initials AT). After giving it a big hug, I opened it up and started assembling it. The green Guerilla Gravity logo just flickered from the slow manifesting sunrise. I put the rear wheel on and gave it good spin. The I9 Hydra seemed to buzz for several minutes before making its last little click. I teared up. I whispered to it, “I am glad you’re hear. We have work to do.” It looked back at me and said, “I was made for this.” (Yes, I talk to my bike. What?)
Stage 3 starts out with a gravel road that slowly ascends for about 14 miles. After that, it gets rad. It flows through a slick-rock-sort-of trail and then hits a technical, rocky descent. Then it carries into a super-fast section with sharp turns. This was my day to make up some time. The biggest obstacle would be the last 7 miles. The terrain gets really technical with several hike-a-bike sections and since it was at the end of a 48-mile-long stage, it was going to be hot.
The stage began. I think the people that passed me on stage 2 assumed I would be too spent to make waves on stage 3. But, I made it clear that I was good. My plan: keep Thad Peterson in site on the first big climb and rain hell on the descents thereafter. And, it worked. The first aid station was at the top of the climb and I rolled in on Thad's heels. We refilled and left together. I moved in front of him and quickly pulled away on the first flowy descent. That put me in fifth position.
From that point, I just wanted to hold that spot. If I could finish fifth for the day, I would be happy. I hit the last aid station, which started the super-technical section. I didn’t expect to ride the uphill segments. I really don’t think anyone can, especially at the end of that stage. But, I was pretty confident in riding the descents. My Guerilla Gravity, Trail Pistol has 120mm travel in the rear and a 130mm travel Rock Shox Pike up front. There’s not a better endurance race bike for descents.
About 3 miles into that 7, I was hurting. The heat was cranked up and I could feel some cramping in my legs. Those hike-a-bike sections were getting really hard to hike. They would have been hard to hike even if I were not carrying a bike after 4 hours of hard riding.
I glanced at my Garmin to check my location. I was closing in on the finish. With about 2 miles left, I started to descend one of the larger gullies and came up on one of the leaders. It was Zach Lowe. Zach was in our group from Tennessee. He’s a very talented NICA racer. His dad, Justin, was actually in the overall lead for the race. As it would seem, he burped a tire and had a little crash, losing all of the air in the tire. Zach is only 15 and despite wanting to move into fourth place, I didn’t want to leave him alone. So, I helped him repair his tire and made sure he was ok to ride. About that time, Josue, one of the guys running support stopped to check on Zach. After that, I felt better about rolling on. I completed the last mile with haste, taking fourth for the day in just under five hours. Despite being completely exhausted and fully depleted of all energy stores, my spirits were much higher.
STAGE 4
The Race director, Brett Harrison, gives a race briefing for each stage the night before. During the briefing for stage 4, he said with all honesty, “This is the shortest stage of the race and it is the hardest! The hard technical last 7 miles of stage 3 is about 80% of stage 4.” Here is how bad that last 7 miles of stage 3 was. When Brett gave the briefing for stage 4, some people dropped out. But, this did not intimidate me. My theory was, hike the hard ascents, let the Trail Pistol go on the descents.
When the stage started I went ahead and jumped on with the lead group. It was me, Justin, and two locals, Mika and Andrew. For the first couple of miles, I was good. But, I felt something weird happening with my shoe. It felt like my cleat was loose on my left pedal. We got to a technical uphill and I saw Justin dismount. I tried to unclip from the pedal and it was stuck. Unbale to dismount, I fell over. Mika and Andrew were both behind me when it happened so they passed and jumped on Justin’s wheel. I quickly grabbed a multi-tool and tightened the cleat. Thankfully, I did not lose a cleat bolt!
I lost the three leaders, but fortunately, I didn’t get caught while repairing my shoe. I hit the trail hard. It was a long open field with several small ditches and rocks. It would have been easy to lose the trail but I managed to locate the markers while maintaining some flow and thread the needle through the field and stay on track. At that point, the trail was exposed and I could see for about a mile. To my surprise, I couldn’t see the three leaders. I assumed they started fighting for a gap from each other and that put a bigger lead on me. After that long first technical section, the course hits a gravel road stretch for about two miles, which leads to a small village. This is the first aid station. After I hit the road, I heard some riders coming up behind me. I was a little disappointed that I had been caught. But when I looked back, it was the leaders. Apparently, they had taken a wrong turn and gone off-course for a stretch. So yeah, I had the lead for a short section. I am a little relieved that I didn’t know that. I might have burned too many matches trying to maintain it. And, the hard part was yet to come.
I stopped to top off my fuel at the aid station and hit the trail. It was about to get rough. But, I still maintained my plan: don’t spend too much time trying to ride the hike-a-bike sections. And, let the Trail Pistol go on the descents.
All was going well until I found myself off course. The course was loaded on my Garmin but, apparently, the GPS got a little muddled at one point and lost track. When I stopped to let it catch up, it told me I was off course. I had to zoom out twice to find the trail. And, I had to traverse through some thick acacia brush too catch back up. When I got back to the trail, I assumed I had lost several places. But, I was diligent in maintaining the plan: ride what you can and hike what you can’t.
The second aid station is at the top of a plateau. From that point, the descents get gnarly. There are some sections that are impossible to ride. Even if they were rideable, due to a large cliff, a small error leads to certain death. But, about 80% is rideable, especially if you are capable. I am, by no means, a fast climber. So, when there is a descent, I try to use it to my advantage.
When I arrived at the aid station, I asked who was ahead of me. To my relief, it was the same group of leaders. As it seemed, even though I went off course for a while, I didn’t lose any significant ground. However, I was informed that Thad Peterson was less than 10 minutes behind me.
So, I hit the descent with all my claws out. I had one small mishap that sent me to the ground. I was able to recover with just a few scrapes and scratches. I felt like any little bit I could descend on the bike was to my advantage. The Trail Pistol was far more capable than I. It wanted to descend sections that I could not. But, it gave me confidence when I was on board.
I reached the final aid station at the bottom of the descent. The lead group had about 20 minutes on me, but I put a huge gap on Thad. From this point, it was about 10k of rough jeep road. Most of it was flat with a few dry creek crossings. My plan was to crank up the power and burn the rest of my matches on this section. I put my head down and emptied my stores to secure another solid fourth place finish in just over four hours.
And that was the end…. But, not really. Four racers including myself still had another stage to race. And, I don’t think I mentioned it, but it was going to be the most difficult for me.
STAGE 1
K2N stands for Mount Kilimanjaro to Lake Natron. The first stage is basically a climb and a descent. The climb begins at Londorossi Gate. It’s the common entrance into the Kilimanjaro Park and it’s located at 7000 feet of elevation. From there, it climbs quickly and aggressively. The route is a 14-mile gravel road climb. Strava lists it as an HC climb. The average grade is 9% and it has several 20+% pitches. When the climb reaches the helicopter pad, which is 13,000 feet, the route makes a turn into a hike-a-bike section up to Cathedral Point. From there, riders hit a rad section of single track, which leads you back to the same road you climbed, which you carefully descend. (There have been many mountain bike crashes on the long descent. It's loose gravel with many curves and the steep grade makes it hard to regulate speed.)
There was three of us to line up for the start on Sunday, June 6th. The fourth rider decided not to race but opted to ride the single track past Cathedral Point. (very good decision, btw). The race director started us and the race was on. Though, I didn’t think much about the other racers, I assumed that one of them, Ken Barnes, who is a good friend of mine might be in clear sight. But, since I am not a great climber, my plan was to focus on the numbers on the climb and cut lose on the descent. Despite wanting to take off fast to get the climb over with, I reeled it in. I knew what my power and heart rate needed to read going up the climb, so I kept it in that range. As I assumed, Ken passed me just a few miles into the climb. I stayed focused and let him go. I quickly realized that after he passed me, he slowed down. This is pretty common. Some people just need that off the front confidence. So, I decided to let him stay and not worry about it. Funny thing, he stayed 50-100 yards in front of me until the first aid station. We were together at the first stop to refuel. When we left, I went first. In just a few minutes, he jumped back in front of me. Same scenario, he stayed about 50 yards in front of me until we hit the turn to Cathedral Point. That was the second aid station. When we got there, Ken seemed a little exhausted. When I hit the single track/hike-a-bike section, Ken remained at the rest stop a little longer.
After completing the full ascent to Cathedral Point, it was time for a rad descent. My wife and friend were at that point waiting on me, which lifted my spirits a little bit. I knew the gravel road descent was going to be a coast all the way down so I pushed my limits through the single track. When I reached the road, I stopped and let 5 PSI out of my tires to hold the curves a little better. Then, I let it go. I reached the finish line at 4 hours and 58 minutes.
I am still waiting on full results to be calculated but I am either 4th or 5th overall. Which, despite the stage 2 debacle, I am pretty happy either way.
What a ride! I want to thank K2N Stage Race for such a great event, my coach Bryant Funston and BPC coaching for preparing me for this event and giving me confidence, Guerilla Gravity for making the sickest mountain bikes, and all my fellow K2N competitors for pushing me to ride hard!
For more info on this race... k2nstage.com
very nice to meet you in church with my wife Nancy today.
ReplyDeleteenjoyed the race report. it's a good thing you don't like to ride wheelies while racing. End of Stage 2 would have been a disaster!