(Continued from the first page)
THERE'S THE FIRST RIDER!
It was fun to see the first four riders come through in a tight pack. A
few minutes later three more guys came flying through. Then it was
several minutes before any more got to our aid station.
Probably 200 riders passed by until someone finally stopped to get a
drop bag. There are two logical explanations – the front riders had
crews and some folks told us later that they didn’t see the drop bag
area the first time through.
Volunteers (in blue shirts) and crews watch the
first riders come toward the aid station.
This was one of the first four riders outbound.
The rest of the morning was a blur of cyclists, crews, and drop bags as
more and more riders arrived at Twin Lakes.
I didn’t recognize any of the riders. They went through as fast as the
crowd allowed, they had helmets on (making it hard to even distinguish
women from men sometimes), I was too busy to watch much, and I simply
didn’t know the ones who stopped to rummage through their drop bags.
I missed seeing Marge Hickman, the rider we knew the best. She dropped
out before reaching Columbine Mine, where her husband was aid station
captain and Jim was working the radio. She still intends to run the LT100 foot race next
weekend, but her Leadwoman series quest is over since she DNF'd the bike
race.
So many crews and spectators stood in front of the aid station the
first couple of hours that it was hard for cyclists to find it, let
alone get in to it for the fluids and food they wanted.
The aid station blended in with dozens of other canopies along the
gauntlet.
Extra cones, signs, and tape were put up later so riders coming back the
second time could access the aid station and drop bags more easily:
A lull in the bike traffic before the middle of the
pack returned to our aid station
It was better after 11 AM when all the outbound riders had passed
through. By then the leaders were coming back the other way.
We didn’t have much of a break before the mid-pack came through again
after their tough 20-mile ride up to Columbine Mine and back down.
One of the volunteers (R, in blue shirt) tries to
keep crews
back as riders return in the other direction.
Sixty miles down, forty to go . . .
I wasn’t prepared for a crowd like this.
I don't think Jack and Cindy were, either, but they and the other
volunteers did the best they could to try to control the crowd. I
couldn’t believe how people would just wander into the course, seemingly
oblivious to riders trying to get through as quickly as they could.
Some of the riders were just as clueless, laying their bikes down on the
course rather than to the side. One reason was all the people in the
way.
It’s a wonder no riders or spectators were seriously injured along the
gauntlet. If they were, I didn’t see them or hear about it in the drop
bag area, which was right next to the medical tent.
In the time I was working the worst injury I heard discussed by the
medical team was a male rider with a broken collar bone (sustained
elsewhere on the course). Jim heard about him on his radio at Columbine
Mine, too. I
saw a guy leave with his shoulder taped up, some folks that needed band
aids, and some that just needed to hydrate and rest.
That was the end of *his* race . . .
HEAD'S UP
I feel like this is just one long cautionary tale for would-be riders,
crews, volunteers, and spectators of this race. I hope it's useful to
someone out there, some day.
Here's another warning
re: the aid stations.
I left Twin Lakes about 1:15 PM. The aid station didn’t close till about
4 PM, so there were still plenty of slower riders out there between
Columbine Mine and Twin Lakes.
Even before I left,
some
riders came in dehydrated. Part of the problem was the length of time
they'd been out on the course on a warm, sunny day at high altitude. A
bigger problem was the fact that the Columbine Mine aid station ran out
of water well before everyone went through. Jim said
the same thing occurred last year.
It sometimes happens in ultra foot races, too.
Consider this fair warning if you do this race without a crew at Twin
Lakes or the turn at 45/55 miles.
The southern end of the gauntlet before the race
began
I don't know how it happened with an experienced aid station captain up
there and an experienced aid station coordinator in town who knew 1) the same
thing occurred last year, 2) how many more riders were in the race this
year, and 3) the predicted warm, sunny weather conditions.
Even though no passenger vehicles should be on the road going up to
Columbine (because of all the bikes) it seems to us that an ATV could
have been sent up with additional water when it
was clear that the water was going to run out hours before all the riders
got there.
There is nothing more critical than adequate fluids during an endurance
event at high altitude in sunny weather! Temps were in the mid-70s F. by
noon and it felt much warmer than that, even at 12,600 feet.
Medical tent; drop bags are to the right.
Although there is a
crewing point at 45/55 miles, riders without a crew have to carry enough
fluids to last from Twin Lakes at 40 miles, up ten miles of rough road
from 9,200 feet to 12,600 feet elevation -- where they rightfully
expect to get water, electrolytes, and/or calories at the Columbine Mine
aid station -- and back down those same 10 miles to Twin Lakes.
It often takes riders
longer to get up to Columbine than they think it will, even if they've
done the course before. Ironically, it takes some folks longer to come
back down than expected, too, because they are wiped out after the long
climb to the highest point.
Future riders, keep that in mind --
carry more with you than you optimistically think you will need.
Generous volunteers
at Columbine Mine also ran out of fluids because they gave theirs to the
riders. Jim said one volunteer even emptied the melted ice water from
her personal cooler to give to one desperate cyclist.
You've all been
forewarned. Fortunately, Jack still had plenty of water at Twin Lakes
when they reached 60 miles.
GET
ME OUT OF HERE . . .
One of the things I’ve noticed since I literally fell on my head in my
bike wreck
two years ago is increased difficulty concentrating when there is any
appreciable noise and/or I'm in a big group of people.
This is the first time since then that I’ve been in such a large,
chaotic crowd. Not only was there a cacophony of noise, there were also
a lot of things going on around me. I was trying to get
riders’ drop bags as quickly as possible and put them back in order,
trying to anticipate riders’ needs and help them get out of the bag area
quickly, trying to keep crews from stepping on the bags as they hopped
the flagging and took a short-cut through the drop bags to the porta-potties
(which weren’t even that close to the drop bag area), trying to keep the
way clear in front of the drop bag area so riders could see it and have
room to drop their bikes.
Volunteers (in blue) can help crew-less riders with
their drop bags, fluids, and food.
I was pretty overwhelmed, not with the responsibility but with the noise
and inconsiderate crews who kept getting in the way! I had to leave the
area several times to get a grip and not lash out at anyone. There were other volunteers to
take up the slack in the drop bag area so I wasn’t leaving anyone in a
lurch.
I had already planned to leave about noon if I could get the truck out.
That was before the “bubble” of riders came back, however. Although I
needed to drive on the course only about 100 feet to get to CR 25, I
decided to wait until about 1 PM to leave so there would be fewer riders
and crews on the gauntlet.
By then I was fried from the sun, fed up with some of the crews, and very
anxious to leave. A few more volunteers came in at noon and an equal
number of us left an hour later.
Volunteers can NOT assist riders with mechanical
problems,
which is why a bunch of them are just watching this
guy fix his tire.
It was tough getting out.
First we had to get past an unmanned security vehicle
that blocked the intersection of CR 25 and the course to prevent crews
from driving up on the gauntlet during the race.
No one wanted to park a
mile away so some people drove in as far as they could, hoping to find a
spot closer to the crewing zone. Some had the audacity to drive past the
signs and try to park right up at the course, where the canopies were, during the race.
Others were just trying to get closer to haul their gear and supplies
out.
Whatever their motives, they made a real mess of traffic.
Ultra running crews try to get close to aid stations, too, but they
usually obey signs and volunteers better than some of these people did.
Cycling is a different
culture, and it gets worse the more riders (or runners) there are in a race.
Crew vehicles line CR 25 out to CO 82 and almost
all the way down to US 24.
It took Jack a while to find the guy with the keys to the security
vehicle. After it was moved a few feet volunteers held the crowd back so
four or five of us could leave when no riders were coming through. It
took nearly half an hour to get across the course, onto dirt CR 25, and
down to paved CO 82 -- only half a mile!
Many
of the crews were also leaving by then, clogging the road as they
carried or dragged multiple boxes, bags, and hand carts behind them.
Get me out of here . . .
Been there, done that when I've crewed in ultra foot races. Sometimes
there is a lot of stuff to schlep around.
Frustrated as I was with the Twin Lakes bike crews in general, I had
some empathy for them at that point.
RIDERS' POST-RACE CELEBRATION
I got back to town about 2 PM, hoping for a good lunch and bracing
myself for more crowds near the finish line.
This is the first year in my memory that the race has provided a real
meal after the race, not just aid-station type food. That is a nice
change. A Mexican restaurant on Harrison Ave. catered some tasty chicken
and beef fajitas, enchiladas, tortilla chips, and toppings in the
courtyard where we did packet pick-up on Thursday and Friday.
All the volunteers got wristbands that allowed them to eat and get free
beer; riders could also participate. Crews had to pay.
The main street (Harrison Ave.) in Leadville
Saturday afternoon -- what a pretty day!
As I rode back through town I looked to see if anyone was eating yet. It
didn’t look like it, so I continued to the north end of town to Safeway
and bought some groceries, went back to the camper, fed and walked Cody,
took a shower, and ate some lunch.
I felt better but still had a major
headache, which is very unusual for me. I didn’t want any of the aid
station food or drink so all I had was a Clif bar and water out at Twin
Lakes – maybe that’s why I was so cranky!
About 3 PM I drove back into town. I still hadn’t heard from Jim and
didn’t want to bother him if he was busy on the radio. I ate some of the chicken
enchilada mixture
at the post-race dinner booth, which had very few customers, and talked with some volunteers working in
the LT warehouse and store across the courtyard:
The tent with the post-race Mexican fare in the
courtyard wasn't busy when I got there.
As I was walking to the nearby courthouse lawn and finish line I called
Jim.
He was on his way down from Columbine Mine but still 20-25 minutes out.
The folks he was riding with were bringing back some of the Columbine
drop bags and he wanted me to find out where they go.
The scene at the finish line and courthouse lawn was almost as chaotic
as out at Twin Lakes. Many riders had already come in and were sprawled
all over the place with their bikes and crews:
I could not see any drop bags or signs where they were supposed to go. I
must have asked fifteen different volunteers in different parts of the large finish area
where the drop bags go but no one could tell me. I called Jim back and
asked him to call Bill Moyer or someone in authority. Even Bill didn’t
know, and he usually knows everything about this race.
A few minutes before Jim arrived another truck from Columbine unloaded a
dozen drop bags near the medical tent and put them on a small empty spot
of lawn near 5th St. Then two people
finally erected a small canopy over the bags and put up a sign that said “drop bags.”
OK, I see how that
works.
The aid station at the finish area was much busier
than the
tent with the free Mexican fare two blocks away.
When Jim got there we helped the couple who brought him down from
Columbine to unload their bags in the same location.
NOT
THE ONLY CRANKY ONE
As soon as I saw Jim's face I could see that he was as tired and cranky
as I had been a couple hours earlier.
He had a pretty good day up at Columbine Mine working the ham radio and
talking with the riders and volunteers but he was worn out from being
gone all day and totally frustrated with some other things that he
couldn't control.
It was more convenient when we had a 4WD truck and could take ourselves
and Cody up to Columbine with us.
It was also more fun when Jim, Kathy, and Brent were there but they
weren't in town for the bike race this time.
Riders
could clean off and cool down after the race under several al fresco
showers provided by the fire department in front of the court house.
I sat with
Jim while he ate a little bit of the Mexican food in the courtyard and then we came
home to chill out, both pretty much moaning about our tiring day and
repeating each year's post-bike race mantra, "Never again."
OUR
OWN QUIETER CELEBRATION
Jack and Cindy didn’t realize until too late that the race was offering
a free meal to volunteers after the race. They had already invited all the
Twin Lakes volunteers to come to Jack’s office (where our camper is
parked) for a post-race BBQ at 6:30 PM on Saturday – on top of all the
work they had to do to set up, manage, and tear down the aid station!
We asked them on Friday if they needed any help but they’d already
chosen easy-to-fix foods. In past years when Jack captained the
Columbine Mine aid station, Cindy would stay home and bake lasagna for this
party but this time she was out there helping all day at Twin
Lakes.
They were gracious hosts and didn’t seem fazed by all the responsibility
they’d had. Thank you, Cindy and Jack!
We enjoyed Jack and Cindy's quiet dinner much more
than this.
Our contribution to the BBQ was a bottle of Chateau Morrisette wine from
my favorite vineyard in Virginia and the item I often make for
summertime potlucks
-- colorful watermelon and cantaloupe balls with green grapes and
blueberries in a scooped-out watermelon half AKA "boat."
I was so tired I didn’t think I’d enjoy the party but it was a quiet
affair with only about a dozen of us. We talked with
everyone, ate a little bit, and had a good time. I’m glad all
fifty volunteers didn’t show up.
We returned to the camper about 8 PM and were in bed by 8:30, exhausted.
Both of us slept till almost 8 this morning.
We’re getting too old for this!
RACE RESULTS
A little after noon today (Sunday) Jim was out
riding his bike and saw the LT 10K runners heading toward the Boulevard
on McWethy Drive near Jack's place. He had to wait for them a little
while before he could get to Jack's driveway and our camper. He saw a
few runners that we know and yelled encouragement to them.
We didn’t go to the bike race awards – don’t even know when or where
they were.
-
According to the Leadville Herald Democrat
newspaper, Todd Wells of Durango, CO was the first of 1,277 riders to
finish the course in 6:23:38 hours. He did not break Levi Leipheimer's
2010 record.
-
Rebecca Rusch from Idaho was the first female to
finish. Her 7:31:16 time broke her own record on this course. The second
woman, Gretchen Reeves, also broke the previous record.
-
About 70% of the 1,837 riders who began the race
finished it, according to the paper.
You can find results of all the Leadville Trail Series events at this
link.
Next entry: random post-bike race thoughts and more
photos from the race
Happy trails,
Sue
"Runtrails & Company" - Sue Norwood, Jim O'Neil,
and Cody the Ultra Lab
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© 2011 Sue Norwood and Jim O'Neil