Anniversary Date

Happy Anniversary, Honey 
Day 5 of the Pisgah Stage Race fell on Phil and my eleventh anniversary. No lingering over coffee for us, though (in fact, I was having a hard time getting any breakfast down at this point) and we headed off to the final day of the race - a mere 42 miles and 6200 feet of elevation gain. Under blue sky and sunshine, racers lined up for what turned out to be the most rewarding day yet. After warming up the legs on a gravel (then buffed dirt) climb, we rolled into section after section of flowy, technical singletrack that kept on coming. Little rocks and roots were Millstone-like and we moved swiftly through tight rhododendrum tunnels. Then came Bradley Creek, a sweet-looking, icy cold stream that we crossed at least 8 times (some wade-able, some pedal-able). Back to trail, we zoomed down a descent with foot deep drops and tried not to tap our helmets on the low-hanging branches.

Pilot Rock and the Rubber Chicken
We meandered deeper and climbed higher on a trail cut into the side of the forest until we reached the infamous Pilot Rock trail. Last year, pro Adam Craig was quoted saying that Pilot Rock was one of the top three most exhilarating downhills he has ever ridden. Phil and I have to agree. As I reached the top of the descent, Patrick, a local racer reminded me to check out the view. I didn’t dare. Even though the trail suddenly opened up into the sunshine and I knew I was perched high on a mountain, my eyes were trained on the large boulders sliding under my rapidly accelerating tires. I dropped my seat, sat back, looked as far down the trail and tried to breathe. I did fine until the trail turned a hard left, which I noticed as I dropped down a series of rocks. I braked a little too forcefully in surprise and bike and I took one of those feels-like-slow-motion rolls. I checked my body and my bike and all seemed in order. Patrick came up from behind and I joked about taking in the view. We switchbacked down the mountain, regularly checking our speed. I heard the bullhorn and knew the white squirrel mascot might be nearby. I turned a bend to find a massive rock garden lined with cheering spectators. It took all I had to focus on picking a line through the giant rocks, going fast enough-slow enough. Then I saw the rubber chicken. Yes, you read that correctly. There was a rubber chicken in the trail, everyone is yelling, a bullhorn is going off repeatedly and my bike is a speeding bucking bronco and I am hanging on for dear life. I have to ride over the rubber chicken because it is directly in my line. As I exit the garden, I call out to the photographer I just passed, asking if I looked terrified. “Yes,” he says.

Taco-ed Wheel
I am relieved when the trail exits onto a gravel road and I stop at the aid station for a bottle. I take off and within a minute I know something is terribly wrong with my wildly wobbling front tire. I stop to check out my wheel, which is partially taco-ed (the term used for a rim that becomes bent to resemble a taco shell). It is completely un-ridable. Before I even start to consider my options (which was only to go back to the aid station), I hear a car roll up and I look up to a camera sticking out the window. “What’s going on?” says Thom Parsons, the videographer (who has raced the Vermont 50 with Phil and is producing videos of this race - see http://www.cyclingdirt.org/coverage/249739-2012-Pisgah-Mountain-Bike-Stage-Race/videos). A guy named Izzy is in the car with him and they get out to examine my rim (Izzy rides for Warren Wilson College nearby, is friends with Matt Williams and Moxie's Nina Otter.) He pulls his 29er wheel out of the truck and it’s a fit. I thank him profusely for his good Samaritan move and within a minute (after Thom has videoed the entire tire swap, including a conversation on whether the wheel loan was legal), I was on my way.

Closing In
The gravel road descent was welcome and I tried to shake the mental intensity of the previous seven miles. I re-entered the forest onto a dirt climb that started switchbacking up (like Burning Spear in Waterbury) and widened to a rocky road (like in Phenn Basin) so I started to walk. Patrick caught up to report that he saw Anna arriving at the last aid station as he was leaving. "I'm guessing she is 3-5 minutes behind you," he said as he smoothly hike-a-biked by me. At that point, I knew there was no stopping the racing till I crossed the line. I had tried to keep it strong, but was increasingly feeling a fatigue that was also sapping my mental will. I locked onto Patrick ahead and tried to match his pace up the hill. We got to a rolling section that was enjoyable and then took us to the final aid station. We had been here the previous day, so I knew that I had 48 minutes left, 2/3 uphill and 1/3 downhill. I started climbing vigorously and tried to settle into a pace I could sustain. I tried little games to motivate myself: I fantasized that I was tried to keep up with Lea Davidson in the Vermont 50, I imagined that Kim and Anna were working together, drafting/pulling each other, with the sole purpose of catching me, I focused on pushing up short sections of uphill, pretending there was nothing beyond it. (Phil told me later that he had picked up a funny thing from local, Wes Dickens, who motivates his 11 year old daughter on the trail by repeating a few lines from the movie, Finding Nemo, by Dori the blue fish: "“Keep on swimming, Keep on swimming, Keep on swimming....”) I came upon a group of guys who were hanging by the side of the trail. One of them got behind me as I climbed, occasionally encouraging me and giving me tips about what trail was left (1/2 mile more of this climb, then a mile flat, etc..). I was genuinely appreciative as it helped to not be alone as I was beginning to suffer beyond anything I've ever experienced before. I thanked him as he pulled off the trail for the final climb and hike-a-bike section. (I found out later the group of guys was Kim's husband and biker buddies and we laughed later as they were there to get a split for Kim, not to encourage me..turns out Kim heard I was 20 minutes ahead at the 2nd aid station and got worried I would make up her 30 minute overall lead that she turned herself inside out the rest of the race).

First Place Finish
I almost hooted when I came to the top of the Black Mountain descent, dropping the seat and flying as much as I dared down the last three miles of eroded dirt/root drops and bearmed walls, until I crossed the line in 5:12. Anna came through at 5:22 and Kim at 5:25. I finished the 5 day race - 195 miles and 28,000 elevation gain in 23 hours and 3 minutes. Although I missed the women's leader $1,000 cash purse by 19 minutes, I was more elated about the race I rode. I won three stages by riding as hard and pacing as smart as I thought I could have. I pushed beyond a point of suffering and determination that I didn't think was possible. I found more courage and confidence over some of most technical trail conditions than I ever have before. I guess that is why we do this sort of thing, right? Phil also finished the stage race feeling a sense of accomplishment in his finish as second in the 40+ age group in an overall race time in 20 hours and 47 minutes. More post-race details later, as I have lots to say about the amazing town of Brevard and the terrific people we met that anchor the local mountain bike culture, community and infrastructure that will only get better...

Post-Race Interview
http://www.cyclingdirt.org/coverage/249739-2012-Pisgah-Mountain-Bike-Stage-Race/video/656613-Kelly-Ault-somersaulting-down-Pilot-Pisgah-Stage-5