Dakota 50

I made the decision to race the Dakota 50 on January 1, 2011.  Registration was capped at 600 entrants so my desire to shirk commitment was set aside so I could be assured a place in the race.  I had heard very good things about the race, mostly the fact that it was a "real mountain bike race" and had excellent singletrack in addition to real mountains and associated scenery. 

The above photo is one I took just after the Bacon Station on a twisty section of singletrack that descends down quite a ways.  I believe the peak in the photo is Crow's Peak, the namesake of the local brewery that gave us free ale after the race.  Much obliged, sirs.

My teammates Jeff and Martin and I arrived in Spearfish on Friday evening after about 10 hours in the car.  My Top Fuel made numerous attempts to escape the clutches of the bike rack, but was mostly unsuccessful, merely succeeding in giving me heartburn and a short case of depression.  After eating an abundance of nutrient-and-mineral-rich Americana at the local eatery within walking distance of the hotel, it was off to the department store to pick up some XXXL boys swimwear for use in the hot tub later.  They didn't carry men's swimwear so the next largest thing had to suffice.  They fit pretty well and were on sale. The bike racer's standby meal ingredients (a loaf of bread and almond butter and fruit preserves) were also purchased.

Saturday morning Martin and I rode out to the race course to recon.  The 3 mile climb up the gravel road to the singletrack was a reasonable challenge.  A good steady rhythm was easy to get into.  I figured once we got to the singletrack I'd settle into my usual comfort zone and get busy railing some turns and punching it up some rollers, etc.  Not so.  The climbing continued for a long time.  The trail peaks out at 6500 feet, so oxygen does start to become scarcer up there.  Maybe it was my head but I felt not so good; I had to breathe pretty deep and quick even at a snail's pace.  I have an aversion to riding hard the day before a race, so the result was slow riding by me.

After a short descent and a very close encounter with two very large but cognizant and courteous bulls, we finally got to the first planned aid station where shortcuts could be taken to see other parts of the trail.  To keep things short we rode the Bacon Station, the aforementioned part of the course where climbing is mostly over and the descent to town begins.  By this time I felt much better and was back in my element going down hills and flats. 

In all we rode 30 miles in 3 hours on Saturday.  This is not my ideal pre-ride but it was about as short as we could do it without the benefit of a car, and it turned out to be an excellent thing to know the bookends of the course.  We rested the rest of the day so recovery time was aplenty.  Another nice huge burger and fries meal on Saturday night made sure we had enough protein and carbs to recover overnight.

We watched Parts 1 and 2 of the epic mini-series Lonesome Dove for the first time Saturday night.  Quite the show I must say.  All the talk about cattle and plains and river crossings was more appropriate than I first thought.

The slight climb up to the first aid station

Getting ready for the race Sunday morning was reminiscent of CX season, with temps at about 42°F.  Arm warmers were not enough for standing around but turned out to be comfortable all day.  I slotted in near the back of the pack at the start, thinking the gravel climb would be a natural selector and I would fit right in where I should be come singletrack time.

Wrong.  I had a decent pace up the climb but once in the singletrack it was traffic jam time.  My natural reaction at this point in any race is to blast past anyone even remotely in the way, but it was not possible.  Long trains of people as far as one could see.  Finally I gradually moved up enough to move from group to group and found one that seemed to go at a reasonable pace.  By this time I was feeling better than yesterday and wanted to ride fast but was leery of pushing too hard, so I stayed with groups going slower than I wanted.  This was the trend for the day for me. I'm still a rookie at these long races so I haven't figured out my ideal pace yet, and I err on the side of caution.

I stopped at the first aid station (10 miles in) to fill my bottle and start mixing Perpetuem.  The group I was with kept going so I caught up to them again.  This was also a theme.  I don't like wearing a SloshyBack so I was okay with stopping for 30 seconds at each station to refill my bottle, a decision I don't regret but if one was truly trying to do well at a race like this a CamelSack or personal assistant would be faster.  The volunteers at the stations were awesome, asking me what I wanted and getting it promptly.  Class acts, all of them.  A surprising amount of spectators were around too.  

The next 10 miles began as a mix of bumpy doubletrack grass descents and other non-singletrack road things.  Then the climbing began again, up some ridiculously steep grades.  My 28T small ring and 32T cog were no match.  Walking hurts but was unavoidable once the first person in line dabs.  The trail then peaks on a mountain called Old Baldy, which faces the Spearfish Canyon.  I did not get a picture of this part but it was one of the better views.  This was also a fun part of trail with some slightly technical rocky areas.

Past the second aid station was where I was most alone, which was a nice change.  After a fun descent on rolling banked turns, we were treated to some MN-style punchy twisty singletrack.  I felt at home until we climbed again, shortly after the third station.  I knew there was a long climb somewhere and decided this particular one must be it.  Wrong again.  After cresting that one we descended some really fast fire roads where I almost lost it launching off a ledge. The fourth aid station came up quick thanks to the speed of this section.  

My Garmin battery had died somewhere around this time but I knew it was past the point when the leaders were finishing.  At this point I was no longer concerned about my placing.  People were flying by me on the sketchy fire road descents and I didn't care.  My head was never really in it; I wanted to enjoy the riding above all else.  A race of this length with 7000 feet of climbing is such an unknown for me I had a hard time motivating myself to race.  The irony of this is that I absolutely hate not racing while in a race.  Sometimes I can't get out of my own way.

The fourth station was at the base of the big climb.  I mean long.  It seemed to never end.  It started moderately steep, then leveled off, then got really steep.  Then leveled off, then got steep.  Then it was the Bacon Station.  

 

For the rest of the ride I let people pass if they came up on me.  It was not worth screwing around and playing passing games.  I enjoyed riding alone and at a pace where I could float through the trail rather than hack it at race pace.  I still felt good physically but was mentally checked out. I rolled into town from the gravel roads and promptly ate some complimentary tacos. 

I finished in 5:11.  I had hoped to be under 5 hours, but with my dead Garmin I had no idea what my time was while on course.  I think it would have been possible but am not losing sleep over it.  I feared I would be over 6 hours so at least I earned my place in the "Racer Wave." 

All in all it was a great event.  The production and support was top-notch and free food and beer can't be beat. The price was very fair considering what you get and the "realness" of the race.  I highly recommend this event.