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The Vermont 50 |
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Written by Alan Moats
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Sunday, 11 October 2009 |
Vertmont 50 MTB Race
Ascutney VT
September 27th, 2009
I've always considered the Vermont 50 to be the 'big one'. It's the ultimate judge of fitness and skill for the season.
I was eager for this one. I had leaned down to 175 lbs after racing at 195-200 for decades and was climbing better than I had in years. Earlier rides, including the Chet Warman 6 gap Race (152 miles 13,000 ft climbing) felt great. I had sorted out my chronic long event cramping problems (solution: Perpetuum, Heed and lots of water) and had carefully detailed out my feed schedule. My health was good and my last week of taper left me ready to charge.
Registration on Saturday afternoon was under a brilliant blue sky with cool temperatures and a light wind. We knew that this was a tease because the weather report called for rain beginning at 2AM Sunday and continuing through the day. That's OK, I thought, I've raced the 50 in the rain before and I know what it's like. It might even be an advantage. Back home, I tied my number on my bike, put it on the car, and loaded my helmet, shoes, camelback, etc in the truck. I ate a large pre-race dinner and headed for bed around 8.
The alarm went off at 4 and I woke to the sound of heavy rain on my roof. No problem... its part of the plan. I brewed a dense pot of Cyrious Coffee, enjoyed a fruit/Perpetuum smoothie and toast, suited up and was on the road by 4:30 for the 1 hr ride to Ascutney for the rider's meeting at 5:30 and then a warm-up bit of time before the start at 6:20.
The start was a matter of easing into a familiar groove. The rollout on pavement, the right turn onto several miles of slightly downhill dirt road before the first climb were like old friends even in the near darkness and the steady grit spray from the riders ahead. I settled in to the draft behind a pack of Senior I Experts and felt my legs gradually come on line. Just like the plan. Pure, efficient flow...
At the end of the downgrade on the dirt road, the course turned sharp left for the first of the climbs. I downshifted to my middle ring and the chain immediately sucked and jammed. It had probably loaded with grit during the long big ring downgrade. I was able to back pedal forcefully and release it and continued into the road climb. Every 3rd stroke, the chain sucked again and I'd have to back pedal to free it. It was still too dark under the tree canopy to consider stopping to see was happening. I tried the big ring and that worked better but soon the big-big combination was too long a gear so I went back to the middle, which immediately sucked and jammed again. I had to stop and forcibly unjam it this time. I tried the granny for a while and it skipped every fourth revolution, a sign that there was a bad link.
A couple of miles of skipping and grinding and the dawn had come on and I could see well enough to pull off and examine the chain. Yes indeed, there was a badly twisted link! I pulled out my chain tool and master link and went about removing the bad section of chain as the Sport pack charged by. Chain fixed, I remounted and set off in pursuit. The granny ran fine. I up shifted to my middle ring and gradually added power as my legs came back on line. Suck! Crunch!... and jam again! I pulled over, flipped the bike up and squinted at the chain again. There was another damaged section that I had not seen before! In fact, there were two more kinked sections! I pulled out my chain tool and replaced the worst of the sections with my remaining master link in the as the Beginner pack drifted by. Back on the road, I tested the drivetrain and it seemed to shift OK and hold gears with a just a bit of skipping but no sign of chain suck. OK, I figured, I can work with this. I'd have to be careful not to end up in big-big because my chain was now 8 links short and I'd have to figure out which gear combinations I could trust, but I could do that. At least I was rolling again.
After a couple of miles of dirt road climbing, I was back in the groove and the flow was returning. The course turned right into the first section of single track and the first of many steep muddy climbs. The first pitch was wall to wall beginners slowly pushing their bikes up the hill. I wondered if they would yield to a rider. I never found out. I dropped to my stump-puller gear and attacked. Suck! Crunch Jam!! Back pedal to free it and then Suck, crunch and jam again. Backpedalling would not free it. As I stood by the side of the course in the rain watching the beginners disappear over the top of the climb, I slowly realized that this race was not going to work out. It was no longer possible to see a successful path through the remaining 40 miles of relentless mud.
I pulled my waterproof rain shell out of my pack, turned around and started riding and coasting the 10 miles back to the start finish area. On the flats, I could only use my big ring and a middle cog and light pressure. My metabolism dropped and I started cooling off. My rain soaked fingers gradually went from cold to numb as I drifted into hypothermia. As I approached the parking lot, the rear end of my bike started squirming and I realized that I had flatted. I walked the last 200 yards to the car and racked my bike. Done!! Not the result I was expecting but undeniable. I had my butt kicked by the VT50.
Alan
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