I started kicking the idea around in my head in late 2014, “I could finish a 100 mile backcountry mountain bike race”. The longest ride I had ridden at the time was the 50 mile Tour de Fall around Richmond. I had finished the ride, but struggled with neck pain from my heavy pack. Luckily, another Charlottesville Area Mountain Bike Club, CAMBC, member had some ibuprofen which helped me motor on.
I was fascinated with spending hours on a self supported ride. Months earlier I was shown the famed Rivanna Trail by another CAMBC member, Jason Hiser. During my first circumnavigation around the 20 mile cross country loop, we had to bail about 2/3rds around Charlottesville. Riding with a heavy Camelbak consistently strained my neck and shoulder muscles.
I made the commitment in January to enter the Shenandoah Mountain 100, or SM100 as most call it. I signed up on January 26th. I am not a small person I am 6’ 4” 250lbs. I could easily be mistaken for an NFL lineman. Unfortunately, I gained weight during my training for this race. In January I told myself I needed to shed some pounds to make the climbs easier, instead, I added muscle and kept everything else. I am fascinated by smaller mountain bikers and the ease at which they can spin up steep climbs. It is all about the power to weight ratio. I need quads the size of redwood trees or drop some pounds. I think buying clothes would be easier if I shed some pounds vs. trying to find pants that would fit huge quads.
My training consisted of increasingly longer rides to help build a fitness base. I knew if I could ride 80 miles in the summer heat, I could finish the SM100. My training rides mostly consisted of road, gravel and local single track. My longest ride only covered a little over 5000 ft of climbing. I knew this wasn’t even close to the elevation gain on the SM100, but it was all the climbing I could get in locally.
The week before the race I was anxious and excited at the same time. I knew I could ride the distance, but what about the elevation? I decided that I would not camp the night before, but instead pick my number up around 5pm the day before. Stokesville is a 3hr round trip for me, but it allowed me to come home and sleep in my own bed in the air conditioning, I wanted to have a good night's sleep. To get to Stokesville with enough time to prep my bike, eat and relax I figured I would need to get there around 5am for the 6:30am start. I needed to leave the house at 3:30am to make the drive.
I woke up at 1am and couldn’t go back to sleep. I left the house exactly at 3:30am and the drive there was uneventful, due to me mentally going over my strategy I wasn’t paying attention to my GPS and I missed my exit. The temperature was in the low 60’s which was great. I retired the Camelbak HAWG for this race and instead I am carrying 4 24oz water bottles with the sports drink HEED, 3 in my jersey pockets and one in my bottle cage. I purchased 2 frame bags from Revelate, a Jerry Can, to hold a spare derailleur and brake pads and a Gas Tank to hold my Hammer Gel flask, toilet paper and the course map. I already had a Topeak saddle bag that contained a spare tube, patches, tools and other odds and ends.
My strategy was to line up in the 12hr finisher staging area. I knew the beginning of the race would be adrenaline filled and racers would be elbow to elbow jockeying for position. My goal was to not crash into other racers and also to not run over those who had crashed. I wanted to pedal softly until the first single track section which I was told would be a “hike a bike” due to 500 racers hitting the trail all at once. I have ridden up this particular trail in a previous race, the Stokeville 60k, so I knew that most of the trail I was going to be walking.
I imagined once I reached the top of the trail, it would be a fun downhill to the gravel road and to aid station 1. I knew I wouldn’t need any water from aid station 1 as I would still have 3 ½ bottles of HEED. I wasn’t planning on refueling until aid station 2, about 30 miles in. My goal was to reach aid station 4 by 11:30am before it got hot and I would need to slow down. Since I had never done the death climb, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I knew I could ride steep gravel, but I wasn’t sure how I would do after already ridden 50 miles with 7000 ft of elevation gain. I figured if I could make it to aid station 5, it was all downhill from there. Not literally, but figuratively. The one mental obstacle I had was the last climb up Hankey Mountain. If I made it 88 miles, what’s another 12?
The darkness and the stars faded as the new day awoke. I put all my bags on my bike and debated on whether or not I should attach my light to my handlebars. My plan was to finish before dark, right? Why would I need a light? If I was going to be out past dark, why even continue? In my training rides I was able to average around a 9 mph pace which would put me finishing before sunset. For safety, I decided to throw my light on my handlebars just incase a mechanical had me out after dark.
For my cyclocomputer I use a device called a Wahoo RFLKT. It connects via bluetooth to the Wahoo app on my phone. It has customizable data screens and has a battery that lasts about 6 months. I have been using my Android based Nexus 4 with an external power brick and my RFLKT since the previous November. I love potato salad, so for my pre-race breakfast I ate a whole container of Mustard Potato salad. I hoped my choice of breakfast didn’t come back to haunt me. I rode up and down the race staging area warming up my legs and aerobic system. About 6:15am all the racers started parking themselves in the staging area. I made my way to the 12hr finishers staging area. I was surprised to see so many racers back here. I straddled my bike as someone on a megaphone barked out something that was unintelligible from way back here. I suppose it didn’t matter if I heard it or not, I was a back of the pack rider, with no aspirations of winning, just finishing before dark.
Suddenly, all the racers started moving and the race had started! I hit start on my RFLKT and we were off! The ride out of the Stokesville campground was a mashup of elbows and tires. A few times the racer in front of me almost ground to a halt, luckily I was able to slow down and there wasn’t a collision. The wind was cool and crisp, not like a fall day, but like an end of summer morning that still held enough moisture in the air to remind you of the afternoon mugginess that would eventually come.
The first few miles went just as planned. A couple miles of pavement, a couple miles of doubletrack and then a “hike a bike” up to Narrowback over to the Tillman West descent. I am a much better descender than I am a climber. When I hit the flowy descent of Tillman West, I let gravity take over. I passed a couple of riders that were much more cautious about the descent than I. My tire pressure (42 psi in the back and 30 psi in the front), fork (120 psi), and shock (300 psi) were dialed in perfectly. When I hit the first dirt berm I was a little hesitant as it looked dry with loose dirt. I have learned that I cannot lean my bike over without losing traction. The tires I have are good, but I always low side if I lean too much. I came up on the next dirt berm and approached it a little faster and leaned a little more and had a blast! No one passed me and I was flying down the trail. I was about halfway down and nearing about the last dirt berm when my front tire slid out from under me. I crashed so fast I don’t remember hitting the trail. I got up and looked at my left leg, luckily it was only lightly scraped. A little stream of blood mixed with dark brown dirt trickled down my shin. “You’re ok”, I said to myself as I looked behind me to make sure I wouldn’t get run over, picked up my bike, and moved off the trail to check it over. My handlebars had turned all the way to the left and snapped my phone mount off. Darn! Disappointed, but continuing my inspection, I was relieved to find that the only damage was my phone mount. An inconvenience, but not a show stopper. I was able to fit my phone with the waterproof case in my Revelate Gas Tank, but barely. The zipper wouldn’t zip up all the way so I was going to have to keep an eye on it. I hopped back on and continued my descent. It took me a minute or two to regain my confidence while I listened for any strange sounds coming from my bike as a result of the crash. After that, I was cruising down just as fast as I was before.
I hit the bottom of Tillman West by crossing a slow moving stream to the cheers of the volunteers at aid station 1. I passed the aid station with a smile and headed north to Lynn trail. I have never ridden Lynn trail but from what I have been told, it is a steep “hike a bike” section. I looked at my RFLKT and noticed I was averaging a little over 7 mph. I knew I could gain some time on this segment to Lynn trail as I have a triple chainring and can really lay down the speed. I was cruising and brought my average mph up to 10 mph. That was more like it.
I hit Lynn trail and what I was told was true. I went onward and upward with my bike in hand and my feet on the ground. I didn’t think this section would take very much energy as all I was doing was pushing my bike, but I quickly found that to be untrue. The first sign of fatigue was my rate of sweat, I was no longer moving and benefiting from being cooled by the wind. The second sign was my heartrate. I decided not to wear my heart rate monitor during the race, I didn’t want the strap around my chest feeling like it was a boa constrictor squeezing the air out of me with every exhale. Even though I didn’t have any quantitative data on my heartrate, I could feel my heart beating really hard climbing this trail. The third sign of fatigue didn’t occur until about 30 mins up this 40 min climb, my quads started to burn. This was not a good sign! I didn’t anticipate the hiking sections would cause so much cardiovascular and muscle fatigue. I had to stop multiple times to drink fluids and catch my breath.
After many false peaks, I reached the top, Wolf Ridge. I have been on Wolf Ridge once. It is a fun technical downhill. Before I started my descent I needed to drink the rest of my first bottle and move a full bottle from my jersey pocket to my bottle cage. I made sure I switched my fork and shock to the “descend” mode and off I went. I passed lots of riders down this trail, I think I was passed once. Near the bottom, there were photographers setup to take action photos, I made an aggressive face and proceeded down to the bottom. Unfortunately, this photo never made it to the post race gallery, I must have scared the photographer because he failed to snap the picture! (Edit: There were 2 photographers and this photo was sent to me by Rob Issem. Yes, I bought it ;-)).
Once I was to the bottom, my plan was to take advantage of my triple chain ring and lay down the hammer. I think I hit over 30 mph on this section of Tillman before I hit Forest Road 95, Fr 95. I was feeling good, but not great after the Lynn trail climb and my average mph was behind where I wanted to be. I wanted to hit aid station 2 at 3 hrs, but it was looking like I was an hour behind, not good as I would be hitting Braley Pond during the heat of the day. I wilt like a week old bouquet of flowers when the afternoon sun comes out. I needed to make it to aid station 2 to refuel. My new chain was starting to dry out and squeak. As I was making my way to aid station 2 there were racers coming the other way on Fr 95, one racer in his distinctive stars and stripes jersey was definitely going the wrong way. Gordon Wadsworth was slowly riding with a few other riders in the opposite direction. A couple other riders followed behind him, when I looked in their direction, they must have seen my puzzled look because they said I was going in the right direction. Later, I found out Gordon had been sick the previous week and bailed from the race.
I came into aid station 2. I was overwhelmed by all the volunteers and the racers. I didn’t know what to expect, this was my first full service aid station I had ever seen. I found a place for my bike and proceeded to find the HEED. I had consumed 3 of 4 bottles and would need every drop to make it up Hankey to aid station 3. It seemed to take forever to fill up my bottles. Other racers were waiting in line to do the same, but if I didn’t fill all of them, I wouldn’t have enough fluid to make it to aid station 3. I downed a couple Hammer Gels, asked a volunteer to lube my chain and I was off.
I have a love hate relationship with Hankey Mountain. I enjoy the scenery on the way up, but many of the double track looks the same so knowing when I am near the top is always deceiving. Speaking of being at the top, I have never climbed all the way to the top to Dowells Draft. I have only gone to the intersection then to Lookout Mountain. How much more climbing could there be? I knew this was going to be slow but I figured that I could just slowly spin up the mountain to the top. Boy was I wrong!
I was making good time spinning up Hankey, but then the sun came out and my sweat rate increased 5 fold. Once I was past the intersection of Wild Oak Trail, much of the trail is exposed. With the combination of the midday heat and the slow slog up the mountain, I was overheating. Sweat dripped down my face, arms and legs. The sweat on my legs combined with the dirt to form a moist mudpack. Maybe it could help repel bug bites? I drank some HEED, but it tasted more like water. I usually mix 2 scoops in my 24oz bottles, but this tasted like half a scoop. I was hoping to use the HEED to help provide fuel for the climb. Luckily I had a flask of Hammer Gel in my bike bag.
Hankey Mountain has steep hills, then short downhills, steep hills, short downhills. So many times I thought I was at the top only to see more hills. It was hot and my legs were starting to cramp. At 40 miles in I looked to see how many feet I had climbed and saw about 6000 ft so far. Wow. I spun and spun but I was quickly losing power in my pedal stroke. My quads were burning and my discomfort increased. Racers around me are stopping and cramping. Psychologically, this makes me want to join them. About ¾ of the way up, I couldn’t ride any longer, I had to get off and walk. Once I stopped, I became a bug magnet. As long as I was pedaling, the bugs stayed away, but as soon as I stopped, feeding time was on. I drank my watery HEED and walked some more. I made it to the top where other riders were taking a break. I rode a little ways down Dowells Draft before I had to dismount. I think I could have made it down the steep steps and rocky trail, but I was fatigued and with so many other riders on the course, I dismounted and walked quickly down the treacherous parts. I just missed witnessing a rider flip over his handlebars, I stopped and asked him if he was alright. He had a deep gash on his leg and was bleeding. He said he could make it down to aid station 3. I told him I would give them his race number so they could watch out for him.
I wanted to make aid station 3 by 11:30am, but it was already 12pm and I hadn’t made it off of Dowell’s Draft yet, this was going to be a longer day than I had planned. I rolled into aid station 3 around 12:30pm. I let them know the number of the rider that was hurt as I set my bike down. This time I asked for an extra scoop of HEED in my water bottles. This should get me through Braley Pond. I downed a peanut butter sandwich and some more Hammer Gel and hit the trail. I was anticipating the next section of road, Highway 250 to Bridge Hollow, I knew I could average about a 12 mph on this stretch of road. My legs had recovered and my power was back. There were other racers heading in the opposite direction to start the death climb by now. I was way behind my anticipated schedule. I didn’t know it at the time, but the race winner, Jeremiah Bishop, was about to cross the finish line, I had yet to hit the halfway point.
I had ridden Braley Pond one other time. It was a hot day, just like race day. The trail in parts is very off camber, narrow, rooty, rocky and is on a very steep hillside. It is also very exposed to the sun. My cramps returned and I had to stop and walk many times on this section of trail. Lots of racers passed me. About ¾ of the way to the top, I came upon a racer off his bike motioning me to slow down. I slowed down and as I got closer I could see more racers about 50 feet off the trail providing medical care to another racer. I figured he would be ok. I didn’t know it until the next day, but he died on that mountain. Apparently he hit a tree which caused him to tumble down the hill and hit another tree. I know how dangerous our sport is, but I am still surprised when someone gets seriously hurt and even more rarely, dies.
I finally made it to the top and shot down the mountain like a bullet. I caught up to a lot of other riders that passed me, but the trail was so narrow and I was so tired, that it wasn’t worth the risk of trying to pass. I made it to the bottom and overheard another racer telling a volunteer that they needed medical attention for a racer. The volunteer replied they had someone on the way on a motorcycle, but they were coming from the other side of the course.
The rest of the Braley Pond trail was fairly flat, but my legs were toast. Not even 60 miles in and I was a quivering ball of sweat and dirt. I finally made it to aid station 4, at almost 3pm. I had until 6pm to make it to aid station 5, or risk being driven down the mountain in the back of a truck by volunteers. Not something I had planned or wanted to do. I started the smooth ride on pavement to aid station 5, the death climb. I was able to rest my legs as I soft pedaled. My legs had somewhat recovered, but they still lacked the power that I really needed. The first little gravel climb I encountered I had to walk which wasn’t good. I was at 65 miles, aid station 5 was at about 75 miles and I was walking up gravel hills.
At about mile 70, the temperature started to noticeably drop and I started to comfortably cool down, but my leg power wasn’t returning. It was almost 5 o’clock. I am glad I brought my light because I definitely was going to have to use it! I think it was between mile 70 and 71 that I began to feel discomfort in my stomach. I decided to try some fig newton’s when I was at aid station 4 and I don’t think they were agreeing with my stomach. I would ride some hills in my lowest gear, then walk, ride, then walk. This cycle repeated itself all the way up North River Road until the race turned to right. This gravel road was really steep. I walked up most of it. I had no power in my legs and my stomach was grumbling. It wasn’t long until the call of nature started calling, no, started yelling. Now, that wouldn’t be so bad, but about a month before the race I started wearing bib shorts. Bib shorts are wonderful in that they are very comfortable to wear while riding. When it comes to going to the bathroom, it isn’t as simple as just pulling them down. Your shirt has to come off and the straps over your shoulders have to come down. Looking to the left of the road and to the right of the road there was nothing but deep brush and steep hills. Also, knowing I was going to have to go full monty and there were other racers on the course limited my choice of trees.
I struggled up the gravel road called the death climb, my stomach and bowels screaming for relief. Near the top, before the aid station, I finally found a campsite in which I was able to find some privacy and relieve myself. I am glad I brought toilet paper! I felt 100% better at this point. I was able to ride up some of the small hills and coast, yet still walk up the steep hills. I was passed by so many racers on the death climb, I was certain I was one of the last riders on the course. One racer in particular passed me right before aid station 5, her name Sierria Lopez. I know this now because once the race was over, Strava lists all the riders that strongly correlate to your ride. She asked me how far up I thought the aid station was, I said that my GPS has us at 77 miles, but the aid station was suppose to be at 75, it turned out to be at about 78. I told her I didn’t think I was going to make the cut off as it was 5:40pm and the cutoff was 6pm. She put the hammer down and she was gone. I was disappointed in myself, yet relieved. I was so tired and sore, I was not looking forward to riding anymore of this course. I slowly motored on and suddenly, up ahead, I could see aid station 5. I looked at my RFLKT, 5:58pm, I made the cut off by 2 mins, darn I had to go on, or I would just have to give up.
The aid station volunteers were great, I was not so great, I was in a daze, but they took my bike from me, lubed my chain and filled my water bottles. One of the volunteers could see the pain on my face and asked me if I was going to continue. I asked if there was a quick way down this mountain back to the campground, he said only in the back of his truck. I told him I would continue on, my voice showing my disappointment. I only drank 3 bottles of HEED from aid station 4 to aid station 5. It wasn’t as hot so I wasn’t sweating as much. I noticed the aid station had a porta john, so while they took care of my bike I needed to finish some business.
Luckily the racers and volunteers were a clean bunch and the porta john had a hook so I could disrobe. Unfortunately, it appeared that toilet paper was in high demand because the only thing left were 2 empty cardboard tubes, when I finished, there was 1 tube left. Next time, I am packing moist wipes. I finished my business, dressed and thanked the volunteers who were hurriedly packing up the aid station to make their journey down the mountain. I set off to finish the race knowing I had to make aid station 6 by 8pm or face another cutoff. This is the aid station where my mountain biking club was setup, but in my heart, I had no fight left for the SM100. I had been beaten down like a boxer that had been K.O’d after a 78 round fight. I had no will to get up, I just wanted to crawl back to my truck and leave unnoticed. The next few miles were filled with rolling doubletrack. I caught up and passed some other riders. I told them I think I was the last rider through aid station 5. There were some other riders that came in after me, but I don’t think they continued on.
This section of the race was filled with false peaks that led to still meadows that led to false peaks. Just when I thought I had reached the top, there was another hill. It started getting dark, but the temperature was getting cool as the sun set. I thought back to my struggle up Hankey Mountain earlier in the day. It was hot and I felt like the air was thin, I was climbing a dusty volcano, struggling with every breath of hot, thin dusty air. Now, I was actually at a higher elevation, but the air was cooler and helped restore a little more power in my legs, but my will to finish the race was gone. I hit the top with another racer who was on a single speed fat tire bike. He had passed me earlier, right before aid station 5. The noise his tires made as he went by me sounded like one of the few vehicles that passed me. I told him he sounded like a car, he said he felt he was pedaling one. He let me go first down Wild Oak trail. As soon as I entered the trail, the trees made it instantly dark, I had to turn my light on. I tore down the descents trying hard not to fry my brakes. It was steep and rocky in places. The trail was narrow with branches and bushes grabbing at my arms and legs. I could barely see 10 feet ahead on the trail it was so overgrown. Five-hundred riders came down this trail already?
Occasionally, the trail would flatten and would have a short hill which I had to walk, my legs still lacked climbing power. It was getting darker and I started wondering if there was a bear just off the trail waiting for me to pass so he could pounce on me. I just wanted to get off this mountain before night overtook me. The faster I let myself descend the more my light would bounce around making the trail features virtually unrecognizable. I came around a corner and 2 racers were stopped in the trail, I slowed down and asked if they were ok. It was Sierria, her GPS unit had bounced off her handlebar mount and she was trying to find it in the near dark. I told her good luck as I scanned the trail for the next 50 feet to see if I could find it, but never did.
Faster and faster I descended looking forward to taking a left when I got to the bottom so I could quietly slip back into the campsite and curl up in my truck to pass out from exhaustion. I had no idea where the trail connects with Fr 95 or how close to aid station 6 it is. I knew I was getting close to the bottom because I started crossing muddy streams, I came around the corner and could see see aid station 6. Darn, there was no escaping. I couldn’t tell my fellow CAMBC members I had enough and wanted to quit. I rolled into the aid station and instantly they took my bike and started lubing the chain which it desperately needed. It was almost completely dark, but I had made it by the cutoff time of 8:00pm, it was 7:45pm.
The first person I recognized was Dave Stackhouse. He was a welcomed sight. I told him I was tired, but he encouraged me and told me I could do it and that there wasn’t anything left that was harder than what I had already done. Then Sam Lindblom and Ken Crawford came up and offered me food and encouragement. I so needed some pizza and there was a piece left. I shoved as much pizza as I could in my mouth, grabbed my water bottles and off I went, towards Hankey Mountain, I wasn’t going to give up.
I was still missing the power in my legs I desperately needed. The next couple miles were ride a little then when the hills were too steep, walk a little. I hit Hankey Mountain in full darkness. I knew I was going to have to walk up the steep sections, I just didn’t have the climbing ability after being on the bike for 13 1/2hrs. Numerous riders caught me on the climb, Sierria caught me and passed. As she went by I ask if she found her GPS, and she replied no as she continued to mash her pedals. I couldn’t tell if I was close to the top at any point on the climb, virtually the entire trail looks identical in the illumination of my handlebar light. I could see the other racers further up the double track riding the switchbacks, their lights shining in the darkness. The forest at night is noisy with all manner of insects making noises, calling out to one another like children in a noisy middle school cafeteria.
I finally made it to the turn, all the hard climbing was over! I heard the ding of my phone. I must have signal up here. I stopped to see who it was. And just as I figured it was my wife back at home in Charlottesville saying she and the kids were rooting for me! I replied back that I was almost done and I was ok. I had new determination to finish this beast, the SM100, and finally slay it!
I passed some other racers and heard them grumbling about more hills. I rode most of the trail, but walked some of the hills as my legs wouldn’t respond any longer. Some of the descent into the Stokesville campground was steep and rocky. When I finally made the final turn into the campground I was surprised to see the finish line was still up! I just had to be careful and not crash now. I entered the new flow machine built trails and pedaled my way to the finish line. Across the grassy field I could see the party was well underway under the pavilion, there was a volunteer with a flashlight guiding me into the sharp turn to the end. I looked up at the timer, 14:45:00. I finished! I turned off my light, hit finish on my RFLKT and was immediately cheered on. Someone with a gong told me I had to bang the gong. I did! Sam Lindblom came over and congratulated me and offered me a beer, but I couldn’t even think of drinking a beer. He offered me food, but I knew I was stinky and looked like death warmed over. I wanted to clean up first I told him. There was one thing I wanted to get though, just incase I made it to the truck and didn’t want to come back to the pavilion, my pint glass for finishing. I wheeled my bike through the finish line area and grabbed my pint glass. Sweet victory!
I headed for my truck, walking my bike glad to be done. I could see my phone light up with a message. Drew Duke facebook messaged me asking the status of my race. I replied I just finished, 14:45. I texted my wife that I was done and that I was on my way home. I took off the gear from my bike using the light from my bike, threw it all in my truck and put my bike on my rack. I was tired but happy I had finished. I didn’t even have the energy to clean up to return to the party at the pavilion, I just wanted to get home, take a shower and have dinner. Till next year!
Rob Eastman
Mountain Touring SM100 - http://www.mtntouring.com/mountain/htm/shenandoah_mountain_100/page_sm100.htm
SM100 Course Map - http://www.mtntouring.com/mountain/htm/shenandoah_mountain_100/sm100-maps/SM100%202015%20New%20Route.pdf
