341 Miles from Oceanside to just beyond Hope

It's been two weeks since RAW 2019, and I am still sorting it all out in my head. After 16 days of ruminating experiences, the epic moments, disappointments, and lessons are being to organize themselves in my head. RAW (and I imagine one day the RAAM), is an adventure like no other. The race is colossally difficult and epic in proportions--full of extremes and beyond superlatives.  It has left me full of complex and ambiguous feelings.  I felt incredibly empowered, rolling across vast distances in the darkness, guided by the lights of my support vehicle and following the white line and flashing amber lights of other racers ahead.    I rode through the night and had blissful descent down the moonlit Palo Verde Valley into Blythe CA.  I ate the best ice cream cone ever sitting under a scrawny tree in Parker AZ.  l felt totally defeated in the searing 115 degree desert heat like a withered houseplant someone forgot to water.   Riding 341 miles across the Mojave and Sonoran Deserts, more or less non-stop, most of it in 100+ degree heat feels like a grand accomplishment and a disappointing defeat at the same time.

Experience was gained and lessons learned both about the challenge of RAW and about myself.  I am impressed and humbled by the other athletes, those that finished, and those that did not.  I am in awe of the dedicated crew members that followed their riders, watching over them, lighting their way, motivating them when they were down, and taking them home.  I feel compelled to return to Oceanside in 2020.

Pre-Race in Oceanside

As one might expect, the last few days in Oceanside are pretty busy for the RAW and RAAM racers.  The hotels were full of cyclist and crew.  The back lot at our hotel was full of all sorts of RVs.  Media crews were following racers around, conducting interviews in parking lots and hotel rooms.  Adam did an interview with the OhioRAAM show.  

We had a busy schedule, with rider meetings, crew chief meetings, and the required bike and vehicle inspections.  Like a scavenger hunt, Cathy's challenge was to gather all the crew waivers, rider waivers, local county waivers, car inspection forms, (one for each car including car insurance, registration, and copies of drivers licenses), bike inspection forms (one for each bike, and the spare wheels) and earn all eight little bear stamps on our "Clearance to Race" form.  It's a process that is more stressful than it really needs to be, but we got through it.   By the end of Monday, I just wanted to be on my bike, heading out of Oceanside.

An ITT Start Like No Other

The start was a bit chaotic, between all the support vehicles filtering in, riders getting ready and milling about, and some uncertainty in the exact start times.  There is barely space in Betty's lot for all the primary follow vehicles.  When we were called up for the National Anthem, many riders were left to scramble with last minute preparations.  After the live operatic rendition of the Anthem, we hung out in the beach side parking lot, chatting with other racers and waiting for our turn to ride down The Strand.   I could tell when I would start was  monitoring the slow approach of Cathy and Jack in FOLLOW--our primary support vehicle, to the front of the line.

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Riders at RAW and RAAM start at one minute intervals, without a holder. Out of habit, I aligned my front axle with the starting line--ages ago USCF time trials started with the rider's axle on the line--sort of a 13" head start to Durango (930 miles, or about 59 million inches).  On one level, it feels like the start of any other individual time trial.  Except here you are surrounded by combination of excitement and anticipation like no other.   The RAW riders and crew are heading 930 miles over 3-4 days.  The RAAM riders, starting just behind us have 3100 miles and 10-12 days ahead of them.  The follow vehicles are queued up in a line reaching back to the staging lot, covered with race signage, flashers and amber lights already on.  They follow us at the start only a few blocks for a photo op, then take an alternate route to the first feed at 23 miles.  The pedestrian path overlooking the start was lined with spectators, and the pier area crowded at midday with an odd mix of race spectators, crew, and locals someone indifferent to the event that was unfolding. 

Staging and the start from Betty's Lot at the Oceanside Pier.  When I came out of the hotel, I was still debating if I should just spin the mile down to the start, or ride in the car.  Turns out I had to ride down--there was no room in either car for me!

The Preheat

What really seemed to set this year's RAW apart was the heat in the Coastal Range, before we even got to the desert.  Excessive heat warnings were being issued the day before, and they seemed to be following us inland.   Down on the Oceanside Pier at 12:30 when I started, it was a cool 68 degrees, but only 30 miles in at Valley Center before descending Hellhole Canyon, it was already 104 F!  We were not even to the desert yet, that was still three hours away.  The six mile/6% climb up out of Rincon towards Ranchita was well over 100 F despite the increase in altitude, and the gentle tailwind on the climb made it feel rather stifling.   I was finishing the final miles into Ranchita thinking I had made it to the top without cramping when the first of the cramps set in.  Cathy and Jack were just about the pass me in FOLLOW and set up for our final planned feed before the famous Glass Elevator descent.  I reached them on the headset with the rather dire news and let them know I needed immediate support.  I was not even sure I could make the last 30 yards to a safe pull out.  A short break got me rolling again, past the the giant Rancheti, over the top, and down through the boulder field leading to the Glass Elevator.

Down the Elevator into the Furnace

The Glass Elevator is an awesome descent... over 12 miles you drop 3600 feet to the desert floor in Borrego Springs.  I had hoped I would hold off RAAM legend Christoph Strasser until Borrego--I had nearly a one hour head start on him from Oceanside.  I was about half way down the descent when Strasser and his follow car came blasting by at well over 50 mph.   I descended at a "conservative" 45 mph, cautious of the hot pavement.  We had driven the Elevator driving out to Oceanside, and although the hairpins on the upper part of the descent get the most video footage, I knew the winding turns near the bottom would be more troublesome.  Behind me, Colan Arnold (RAW 50+ solo winner in 2015) crashed on the descent, and ended his RAW with a helicopter ride to the hospital with a concussion.  

By the time I reached Borrego, it was 112 F, which felt sort of cool compared to the tailwind climb into Ranchita.  ​ Paul and Adam were already there in SHADOW (our second support vehicle), parked on the giant rotary called Christmas Tree Circle just past Time Station 1.  The Circle was a memorable scene, full of racer support vehicles parked all the way around the Circle.  The local police were providing support and helping with traffic.  Most of the top RAAM racers passed through without stopping.   I quickly put on the cooling vest, with gel inserts not especially cold in from the cooler, and set out across the desert.   We would have about 40 more minutes before 7 pm, and the required start of direct follow.  We had to insure that at least one of our vehicles caught back up with me and was ready to fall in behind and follow me through the night.

One of the lessons from RAW 2019 would be the supplemental cooling strategy--the cooling vest was not especially effective.  The inserts were not cold enough in just a salt-water cooler, and the front inserts hang off the front and don't make contact with your skin.  Improvised approaches including ice in panty hose, compression style sports bras, mummy like body wrappings, and copious amounts of ice were the choice of most of the riders.    As we would discover in Parker, we needed a better approach here.

Through the Night

We arrived in Brawley after dark, and the crew was waiting in an old motel parking lot near Time Station 2 (TS02).  In reality, TS02 is just the first traffic light in Brawley, Rio Vista Avenue and Main Street... unmanned as are most of the RAW and RAAM time stations.   Adam and Paul had already visited the Jack in the Box across the street and were parked in the nearly empty Travel Inn.  I thought we were going to be chased out by the owner, but instead he moved his truck, using his spotlight to help light up the area for us.  We slummed in a lot of parking lots along the way, and nearly everyone was supportive and helpful.  Most seemed to know the riders come every year, after dark, on this particular Tuesday evening in June.  After a snack, more bottles, and fresh lights, we were on our way.

One of the greatest joys of ultracycling is the feeling of riding through the night.  There is simply nothing quite like it.  The gentle rolling climbs from Brawley, through the Imperial Dunes  and Chocolate Mountains and then on into Blythe were visual treats.  With the long lines of sight, you can see other riders miles, sometimes tens of miles ahead, snaking their way up the hill. With so many riders on the road, and once in direct follow, it can be hard to pass other riders and "convoys" begin to form.  At one point, I was in a line of three RAAM guys, and the two of us RAW riders, and all five follow vehicles.  After a while, you could identify the different riders follow vehicle by the distinctive flashing signature of their particular amber lights.  One of the RAAM riders had a German sounding military march playing from the loudspeaker on the follow car.  I must have heard him coming up behind us for a mile or so.  His crew would shout instructions to him periodically in German as well.  Another was brushing his teeth (Now I know why that is important too).  The whole scene put a huge smile on my face--I was rolling along with the RAAM!  How cool is that?  By the time I got to the descent into Blythe we had all drifted apart.  I was all alone, except for my crew following behind.  I could see Blythe at least an hour before arrival, glowing down in the valley.  

When we left Brawley, Adam and Paul drove ahead in SHADOW to the Imperial Dunes Overlook and Adam took the spectacular pictures you see above.  Adam is a world-class astrophotographer and he was testing exposures and techniques for what we hoped would be the midnight crossing of Monument Valley later in the race.  Unfortunately we did not get that far, but the nighttime Imperial Dunes photographs are awesome.  The time exposure streak is authentic--that's really me and FOLLOW making our way across the dunes.  

Under the Shade of a Scrawny Tree

Cramps have been something I have tried to figure out since early in my racing career.  Way back in 2007, I cramped out of the Master's National Road Race in Seven Springs.  At Dirty Kanza, I fought cramps for 110 miles.  I'm still trying to figure it out. After the cramping and hydration delays, we did not leave Blythe until shortly after sunrise and arrived in Parker well behind schedule.  This put us in the heat of the day for the next segment into Salome.  By mid-morning, it was over 110 F.  Parker was a collection of riders, some in RVs, but others finding whatever shade they could find with concerned crew huddled around them.   I ate an ice cream cone that Paul got me at the Circle K while sitting in the shade of a  scrawny tree.  The local EMTs were cruising the parking lots making sure we were mostly ok.  Leaving Parker, it was beyond hot.  Traffic on AZ-95 south of Parker is downright scary--very heavy truck traffic and basically no shoulder.   There is always oncoming traffic, so traffic overtaking you gives no space.  

We got about 5 miles out of Parker before it was clear we had to seek refuge from the heat, rehydrate, and wait for evening.  It was about 114 F by this time, with the midday sun blasting us.  The crew loaded me up in FOLLOW and we drove forward and found a room at the Sheffers's Motel in Salome near Time Station 5.  The motel was already half full of RAAM and RAW crews.  RAW racer Fabio Silvestri from Brazil and his crew were waiting out the heat in the rooms next to ours.  His rather glum sounding crew member told me Fabio was sleeping, and that "it is not a good time of the day to be riding".  Fabio had finished RAW in both 2015 and 2017, going well under 3 days in 2015.  The heat has no favorites and can get even the best and most experienced riders.  Fabio later made it to Prescott before he had to withdraw.  

The manager told Jack we he got our rooms, "They [RAAM] come every year, don't have reservations, and ask for an hourly rates."

After a few hours of food, fluids, and more fluids, the crew drove me back to the point we had stopped earlier in the day, and I rode the rest of the way into TS05 in Salome.  The 46 miles took me 3:39.  While it was generally uphill, about 1300 feet of climbing, it was slow and still 104 F when we started.  When we arrived at the hotel, we had a team meeting in the motel parking lot and made the difficult decision that RAW 2019 would end in Salome, about 10 miles beyond Hope AZ and the famous "You're Now Beyond Hope" sign.  

Starting back out in the evening heading to Salome.

Epilogue 

The crews at RAW and RAAM deserve the greatest thanks.  They support us for days on end, feeding us, watering us, taking care of every need we can imagine.   Without my crew chief Cathy, my son Jack, and my close friends Adam Block, Paul Rasmussen and Maria Crawford, none of this would have been possible.  I'm also thankful to my sponsors, Edge Integrative Wellness, Ray Rede at US Cryotherapy Tucson, Light and Motion, Honey Stinger, and Voler.  The support from Sol Dog Lodge and Arizona Greyhound Rescue is also deeply appreciated, and I hope I helped bring them more awareness of their great work rescuing greyhounds and placing service dogs with those who need them.

RAW 2019 was an experience beyond anything I expected.  I thought it would be epically difficult... and I can honestly say I underestimated it.  Superlatives from the thesaurus do not adequately describe the challenge.  The distances are vast.  The environmental conditions are intense.  The emotions are extreme.  To describe it in terms of days, miles, states and time zones crossed, feet of climbing, or high temperatures just leaves intangible metrics.  What I do know is that for two days, we were so totally alive, challenging nature, discovering our limits, and learning how to push farther and do better next time.  We were part of a rolling community of racers and crew embracing a common challenge with a shared passion for sport and for life.   When I think back to what we did in June of 2019, there will be stories to tell and memories to cherish.  It was awesome. 

​"Bike racing is art. Art is driven by passion, by emotions, by unknown thoughts," Chris Carmichael.