Rocky Mountain Cycling Club
The Club for People Who Love to Ride!
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Rocky Mountain Cycling Club
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Furnace Creek 508 I assembled an
experienced ultra cycling crew. Terri
Gooch and Richard Kondzielaski were my on-site crew and they worked
closely with George Thomas via the phone throughout the race. I dropped my chain during the parade start
then proceeded to catch three red lights before the turn to San Francisquito
Canyon. I thought to myself that
maybe this would be a blessing in disguise. I was racing with
a great group of very fun, yet highly competitive cyclists
through Furnace Creek. (Spider
Monkey, Lemur, Puffin, Saluki, Sloth, Springbuck, Scorpion, Fennec Fox, and
Tasmanian Devil) Anyone who wanted
to pass me, I simply let go by while I stayed focused on riding my
ride. I was having so much fun, and
the miles went by quickly. We had incredible tailwinds and crosswinds for
the most of the first 200 miles. However,
the right turn onto Highway 190 at the base of Townes Pass brought the headwinds, and
I was immediately forced into my granny gear. Using both hands I tried in vain to re-zip my skin suit as I
crested the top of Townes Pass, but I simply could not get the zipper to budge.
My bike was incredibly stable allowing me to obtain a maximum speed of
66.2mph as I plunged down the pass almost exclusively on the aero bars. The all out war with the wind began with the
right turn onto Badwater, just passed the Furnace Creek time station.
It was simply snowing sand in spots.
My three-dollar, clear protective eye shield glasses from the Home Depot did an
amazing job of keeping the sand out of my contact lens.
I remember seeing White Buffalo walking this bike on a flat road in Death
Valley. (A Pronghorn team rider told me, he had to stop his bike just
to take a drink of water.) You know
the Kostman logo with the cyclists towing the western carriage? I had this constant sensation of towing my support vehicle.
I continued to keep a steady pace as I had done from the start, but now I
was starting to devour the competition. It
took 7 hours 17 minutes to make the 73.6-mile journey to Shoshone, but I passed
over ten competitors in the process. My
most satisfying meal on my journey to Shonshone was definitely the tasty Chicken
dinner on Salsberry Pass. On my way to Baker, I was able to make quick
snacks out of a sleeping Python then a sleeping Landshark. At the base of Ibex, I passed White Buffalo again, while
laughing inside at the thought of him previously walking his bike on a flat road
in Death Valley. I was having too
much fun to feel sleepy or tired. Climbing on Kelbaker Road, my crew, for the first time the whole race, informed me about my race status. They told me that I was in forth place, but that the Chicken was only two miles back and Landshark was about 30 minutes back. I simply did not know how to react to the news. I wanted to celebrate being in forth place, but I simply could not do that as I have a huge deal of respect for the two riders coming up behind this rookie. Then out of nowhere, I started to go into a funk, but my crew saved me with a “magic peppermint”. They were right this peppermint was magical, and it cleared my mind and my pain instantly. The crew and I then worked on increasing my pace. Later, I began to projectile vomit multiple times at the top of the Kelso climb but stayed on my bike out of fear of the two racers that I knew were trying to hunt me down. I lost time during this time station, but I was so happy to have an empty stomach. At Kelso, Chicken had closed to within 10 minutes and Landshark had closed to within 20 minutes. The crew and I again worked on increasing my pace. Several miles from the top of Granite Pass I passed Crain, who was off his bike and in his support vehicle. His support vehicle soon went around me. My crew tried to tell me that he did not finish, but I was paranoid that he joined the others in hunting this Wolf down and that he had simply sent his support vehicle to the top to compute the time gap. At the top of Granite Pass, my friends from Team Falcon informed me that Chicken was hurting but that Landshark was charging. My crew implored my too stay focused. I went into time trial mode. I increased my lead over Chicken to 27 minutes and Landshark to 34 minutes by time stop 7 near Amboy. I did not stop to receive my lei at the time station because I was racing hard to build my time gap. However, climbing Sheephole I found myself
sliding into a funk, my legs were simply losing power.
The crew never let me get too down and they kept me on the bike,
nonetheless, half way up Sheephole, Landshark passed me, then the next thing I
knew the Chicken passed me at the top of Sheephole summit.
That hurt – I dropped from 3rd to 5th in one
relatively short climb. I never saw
Landshark again. The Chicken
remained on the horizon, my crew wanted me to chase.
I was having an internal struggle as to whether I had anything left to
chase or if I simply would be lucky to survive to the finish without giving up
any more places. The next thing I knew I was emptying my stomach again all
over Amboy Road. But I managed to
stay on the bike and ever so slightly pick up my pace as my crew implored me to
chase down the Chicken. For some
reason, I asked the crew to research the sprint line rules just in case I could
find one last source of energy to get me past the Chicken with only 15 miles to
go. I thought I had caught up to
the Chicken at the turn onto Utah Road, but was disappointed to find out that it
was the 2-man Basenji team. The
Basenji rider was kind enough to tell me that the Chicken was ¾ of a mile up
the road. I was unsure if I could
possibly close a gap of ¾ of a mile with only 5 ¾ miles remaining in the race.
I picked up my pace just in case it was possible.
I completely hammered up the short, but very steep, hill entering Twenty
Nine Palms, and as I crested the top I could see him; the Chicken was only a few
blocks up. But, how was I going to
get any closer without his knowing it? The
flashing hazard lights on my support vehicle were sure to give away my position.
But he continued to plod along and I sprung into action and quickly began
to close the gap. The Chicken was caught completing off guard until I pulled up
next to him for the pass. Then the
quiet, little town of Twenty Nine Palms broke into mayhem.
As I passed the Chicken, his crew started yelling, my crew was yelling. I
was pedaling as hard as I could. The pain was overwhelming, and he remained right
on my tail. We came up on the
finish line hotel so fast they did not know what was happening.
I saw people running from all over to watch.
Two guys were still unwrapping the finish line toilet paper when I came
slicing through just barely ahead of Chicken, still wearing that start line skin
suit with the broken zipper. Chicken and I enjoyed several great hugs over
such a fantastic finish. I knew Richie, Terri and George were the greatest crew, so I listened to my experienced crew and stuck to our pre-race strategy, even though it was very tempting to hammer the first 200 miles with the favorable winds. I stayed on the bike, only getting off for quick restroom breaks. Total time off the bike was 40 minutes. The lead group hammered from the start to the top of Townes pass. They simply had nothing left to battle to winds leaving Furnace Creek. Now, I sure am glad I dropped my chain during the parade start! ... Various credits and photos as links: Acknowledged
for raising over $2100 for the challenged athletes foundation Halfway
point near Furnace Creek Climbing
Salsberry Pass at about mile 325 Various
finish line photos at mile 508.50: Photo
1 Finish
line results for solo racers Finish
line results for team racers A
race report from Peter Pop, who I believe has completed the race six times solo.
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