Tour Divide Version 2.5

Synopsis of my 2014 Tour Divide run:  DNF, broken leg, torn muscle, infected wound, bears who wanted my chicken strips, power sapping wet/muddy roads. grin and bear it mentality and more rain than Seattle in December.

2014 Rain

Synopsis of my 2015 Tour Divide run:  First place, course record, free pie, sunshine every day, singing elk, smooth buff roads (well sort of), miles by smiles and less rain than Death Valley in July.

2015 Free Pie!  Yeah Salsa Bikes!

Two totally opposite runs down the Divide for me.  Should be happy with that right?  Should be able to pack my bags head out on long tours and smile from here to eternity based on what I had been able to achieve through hard work and perseverance.  Pat myself on the back and ride off into the sunset.  A fellow should be good to go on a result like that.

Day 1 2015

Then what the hell am I doing signing up for this race again?  The conditions and my luck in 2015 were about as prime as any rider can dream of.  The conditions and my luck in 2014 were like a bad comical tragedy.  I've used a certain word more than once to describe my 2014 ride.  Horrid.  The weather was horrid, I felt horrid, the food I put in my body was horrid.  Quitting was indeed horrid.

Of course despite everything in 2014 I was truly happy.  I had a blast!  My 2015 run, there is video evidence in the last 100 miles of the Tour Divide on Facebook somewhere of me being "super happy!"  I had worked so hard to get back out for another shot at the race in 2015 that I could have been dead last place and my reaction would have been exactly the same.  Super Happy!  A theme from my 2015 run was being happy on the bike and smiling.  That is true.  I was happy.  Yes, it hurt a whole heck of a lot and I shed some tears too but man oh man was I happy.  As I mentioned in one of the online interviews post-race it was like being a kid with a really cool bike, a credit card and carte blanche in the candy aisle.  It's a whole lot of fun!

Pie Town Magic

The Divide is so much more than a bike race.  Or at least it is to most of us who never, or only very secretly dare, dream of winning.  Most of us enter the Divide with the knowledge, which seems like fact, that we will not place first in this race.  Heck, most of us have no clue what we are doing out there.  Many of us have no idea how our bodies will react to such an ultra-distance event.  Most of us are just out there to challenge ourselves over the course.  We all have our reasons.

Children at Play

So what are my reasons for wanting to return in 2016?  No clue.  Some of my friends tell me, "Well you are the defending champion, you have to race."  I'm not sure that in a race like the Divide there is such a thing as a "defending" champion.  We all survive the course.  None of us conquer it.  None of us "own" this race.  It's a monster!  Statistically, there is about a 60% completion rate for the racers.  Let's just say 50% as it sounds more impressive.  So all of us that toe the line for the Grand Depart have a fifty-fifty chance of finishing.  Indeed, my own stats from the two years I've lined up match these numbers.  One DNF, one finish.  Why play the odds?

I keep coming back to one simple reason.  Simplicity itself.  After dropping out in 2014 and before starting in 2015 I wrote my account from my 2014 run.  I ended that story with a statement.  "I yearn for the simple life again."  The Divide is so complex, so vast, so encompassing that it requires simplicity to understand it and to finish it.  The less we take, the faster we go.  The times I was having the most fun were the times I was going the fastest.  Riding your bike is easy.  Everything else is hard.

Perhaps I'll just be taking the easy, simple path this June.  I'll just go ride my bike.  I'll be a kid on a really cool bike with a credit card, stars overhead and miles and miles of the unknown before me.  A great story ready to unfold.  It doesn't matter the placing.  I know, many people wonder why race if you aren't concerned with first place.  It's simple and if the simplicity of it escapes you then I urge you to take on some grand, crazy personal challenge.  I believe that most of us that dream of the Divide are simply that.  Dreamers.  However, as I can fully attest, dreams can come true.  It's simple, you just keep chasing them.  If you don't catch them you can have a whole lot of fun trying.

Some Wintertime Fun!

Oh what a wonderful world!  Been out having some fun this new year.  Fatbiking, snowcamping, backcountry skiing.  It's been a blast!  Lots of the year yet to come.  Excited to see what's around the next corner.

The Cordillera

Do you need a good book for a cold winter day?  Do you want to race the Tour Divide?  Do you want to read stories from some of the racers of the Tour Divide?  Do you want to know what gear the racers used?  Do you want to read my personal 2015 Tour Divide story?  The Cordillera is the place to find it.  Here is the most current volume of the Cordillera, Volume 7, which contains insights, stories and data from the 2015 Tour Divide.  

Sam Newbury - Cordillera V7 Cover Photo Photographer

I have read every volume of the Cordillera and consider it essential training material for the Tour Divide.  Bikepacking racers are a weird little clan and this book is probably the highest concentration of stories and thoughts from our little band of misfits.  The proceeds also go to a college fund for Linnaea Blumenthal, the daughter of our Tour Divide brother Dave Blumenthal who was killed on the route in 2010.

I'm sure this new volume will contain many laughs, emotions and tears from this years race.

Here is an excerpt from my story in the Cordillera, Volume 7

My speed was decreasing from a full powered 24 mph time trial effort to an ugly, wobbly coasting speed that could have allowed a kid on a trike to blow by me.  I pleadingly took a pull on the hydration hose from my frame bag.  Nothing.  I clumsily pulled the liter sized bottle from the downtube of my bike as I swerved into the left lane of roadway, unscrewed the lid and tilted it towards my parched lips.  One drop.  A drop of hot, rancid orange juice fell to my swollen tongue.  It burned and irritated my desiccated mouth.  My eyes scanned the side of the road.  I looked frantically for liquid in any form.  A bottle tossed out by a passing motorist, a cattle water tank, a 10 year old selling lemonade.  Nothing.  For the first time in over 100 miles I looked behind me.  Empty road made blurry by the heat waves rising from the tarmack.  Glorious rain storms vignetted the blurry image.  Rain poured from the sky in the distance; too far away from me to be of any aid.  I squinted to try and focus the image.  Nothing but a blur.  Yet somewhere in those heat waves rising from the roadway I knew one of the most powerful and talented ultra-athletes in the world could materialize at any moment.  I swerved severely again as I turned my head forward almost toppling my bike into the ditch.  The lyrics from Marty Robbins, Cool Water evilly played in my mind.  “This may be it”, I said aloud to no one other than a jackrabbit crouched beside the road.  It seemed like hell to me.  Winston Churchill’s quote, “If you’re going through hell, keep going” echoed in my head.  Just keep going I chanted to myself.  My mind began to wander uncontrollably.  I was no longer the keeper of my body.  It was as if I was a spectator to all that was happening.  A silent, helpless observer of a grand dream unravelling.  I could no longer see the road.  All I saw was the replay of my previous days.  I was in a waking dream.  The visions of those previous days on the Divide began to consume me.

Trainer Time

That time of year.   Short days, long nights, wet, soggy, cold.  Always looking for something to get me going before heading off to a nightshift at work.

Maybe It Was Just A Dream

What do you do after completing the Divide?
You think about it a lot.  It's a dream that has become reality.  What do you do with that?

Riders put a lot of time, effort, sweat, tears, money and backside into completing the Divide.  Why?
Everyone has their reason.  A vision quest, in search of simplicity, happiness, chasing dreams, conquering demons, setting records, raising funds...   I'm sure that some of us don't have the answer figured out.  Maybe some of us never knew the question.
There are always questions from the curious and congratulatory Divide spectators.  Some crazy, some  not so much.  Perhaps their questions aren't so odd.  Perhaps they can help us find the answer.

"Why did you do it?".
"How do you carry enough clean underwear?"
"What do you do now?"
"Are you going pro?"
"Did you get any sponsors?"
"What did you win?"
"Were you going for a record?"
"Why did you race if you didn't think you were going to win?"

Why did I race if I didn't think I was going to win?
There's always a dream.

I was sitting on a porch, in New Mexico, in a place called Pie Town, at a magical little abode called the Toaster House.  It was sunset.  The air was totally still.  I had a Pabst Blue Ribbon in one hand and a Totinos microwave pizza folded over like a taco in my other hand.  I was comfortably lounged back in a slightly reclined position in a bucket seat that had been removed from an automobile.  Sitting across from me was Matthew, a young 19 year old German who had come to this place along his journey.  A journey which was taking him from the US east coast to the west.  He was walking from coast to coast while pushing a heavy, unwieldily stroller.  Mostly alone.  He sat upon a bench seat that looked like it had come from the back of a Chrysler mini-van.
I had just finished the Tour Divide bicycle race a few days before.  In first place, in record time.  We each vocally proclaimed the other insane during our meeting earlier in the day.  Now, at this late hour on a June evening we sat in our respective chairs, buckled in by seat belts still attached to our vehicle-less seats.  Each of us engaged in conversation with someone that the other considered a bit off kilter.

"What's your dream?", I asked Matthew.
"You'd think I was crazy.  You'd think I was nuts.", stated Matthew.

I paused for a time, smiled and said, "Try me Matthew."

What a Race!

What a race!  The Tour Divide.  It's absolutely amazing.  I'm still trying to figure out exactly what went on out there.  The whole thing is a bit of a dream to me.  I'm sure it's gonna take me a while to remember all the bits and pieces from those two weeks on the bike.  In the meantime.  I've written out my entire 2015 Tour Divide kit for the website Bikepacking.com.  It contains some of my thoughts about the gear I used.  I'll be putting together a listing of my bike and parts in the near future.  It's easy to geek out on gear and bikes.  It's not so easy to formulate my thoughts and experiences from the race.  It's a lot of personal emotion and trying to translate that is a bit challenging for a guy that's spent a bit too much time at elevation.  Indeed, my story about the 2014 race took me more than half a year to tell.  However, I think that the interview I did with Outside Magazine shares a few of my thoughts and experiences from the race pretty well.  Of course there is also Eddie Clark's coverage of the event at Mountain Flyer Magazine that is fun to see.  Eddie got some lovely shots out there.  It was great bumping into him out on the back roads of the Divide.
I've also recently done a quick interview with Jill Homer for Revelate Designs blog.  More of my thoughts about the race including why I almost decided to stop racing within a couple days of the finish.   A link to the interview for Revelate- Revelate Designs Blog

In the meantime I wanted to give a big shout out to EVERYONE that competed in this years Tour Divide.  I'm sure there are a lot of awesome stories out there.  This is a race that truly has winners in everyone that completed their challenge.  I had a blast meeting a few of the racers as they came through Pie Town on their way south as I made my way back home.  It was a pleasure to meet all of you!

To those that didn't finish and tried their hardest to do so.  I've been there.  It is an emotional thing to pull out of something you've poured so much energy and time into.  I have full respect for everyone that lined up.  Pulling out of of the Divide last year is indeed one of the hardest things I've ever done.  I raise a glass to all of you starters, finishers and dreamers!

The Tour Divide is a special sort of race.  It defies the tradition of many other cycling events.  I love that about it.  Every year the bikepacking.net forum has some comments about changing it somehow.  Teams, rest-breaks, support personnel and any other number of modifications.  I still maintain that the Tour Divide is a supremely simple event.  It's beauty is that it is a beast of a race and yet once you break it down it is so, so simple.  You just go from point A to point B as fast as you can, on your own.  Ride when you want, sleep when you want and be sure to eat a lot in between.  During the race you will learn all you need to know about yourself.  All you have to do is ride and listen.

Oh, and have A LOT of FUN while doing it!!!

Passing Time

Went out on a ride today.  Not so much a training ride as just a ride.  A ride I really enjoy.  We all have those.  Places we like to ride just because we enjoy being there.  Places we like to go in our daydreams when stuck behind the walls of societal obligations.

Not too many miles today, 50, but plenty of climbing up some of my favorite canyons.  The snowy mountains in the distance that I've played in so many times tempting me from afar.  Raptors gliding alongside me playing in the air currents as I granny-geared up the steep switchback laden climb of 13 miles and 5000 vertical feet of elevation gain.

I've always enjoyed climbs on the bike.  I'm not a particularly fast ascender, I just like going uphill.  Something about climbs seems romantic to me.  They slowly seduce you into a state of surrender.  The long, drawn-out, painful anticipation of the end.   Uphills with open, sweeping vistas are especially entrancing.

On the narrow, dusty tracks on the steep sides of canyons and valleys you can only see open space and mountains in your peripheral vision.  It gives a sensation of floating through the hills.  A sensation that helps to take us to other places. Places that have been burned into our mind's photo album.  Welcome places away from the sweat, heavy breathing and tightening muscles brought on by challenging climbs.

It helps me pass the time to flip through the idealized pages of those grey matter derived collection of snapshots.  On a day like today this memory based photo stream came in quite handy.  While this winter has been pretty mild in Washington there is still plenty of snow hanging around in the hills.  Especially the north facing slopes.  My 50 mile ride was actually only 42 as 8 of the miles along the top of the ridgeline turned into a festival of post-holing through a breakable frozen crust into thigh deep snow.  Divide training at its finest.

I opened my skull based photo album.  I watched my favorite re-runs of places skied, biked, fished 

and hiked.

Speed, or lack thereof, dissolved into the crisp mountain air and took on no meaning.  The cutting sensation of each step into the ice-crusted snow against my shins, knees and thighs disappeared.  Frozen feet melted into the world around me.

Re-runs or good new episodes, either will do.  Come June I'll be tuning in.