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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

Love Testing

 “This stage has tested my love for mountain biking.” This is what Phil said about day 4 of the Pisgah Stage Race.

It was a brutal day. 39 miles with 7,300 feet of climbing. But it wasn’t just those statistics that spurred Phil’s comment or the fact that I am typing on our computer perched on top of bags of ice wrapped around my quads. It might be that we didn’t realize that this event was about 10% “adventure race.” Maybe we are spoiled by Vermont’s talented trail builders that craft gradual switchback climbs and flowy downhills. Maybe we are jaded by BC’s artistic bridges and $50,000 bermed and tabletop runs. But the old school trails here that either go straight up or go straight down, that are eroded and loaded with debris can start to break you down when you are trying to race them. Don’t get me wrong, today’s course had lots of fun singletrack, which is much preferred to gravel roads. And, it took you deep into the mountains or high along ridges and you really were far away from everything. And, when you got a glimpse of the valleys, it looked just as stunning as in the movie, The Last of the Mohicans. However, the continuous hike-a-bike sections took their toll emotionally and physically and pretty soon we just wanted to get off the bike and go home. Now Vermont has it’s rugged old school trails, too, and at moments today, I could have been descending Chain Gang in Phen Basin or climbing up and over the Cottonbrook from Little River. Even the rugged trails of Hinesburg Town forest have root ladders that are almost unbearable to endlessly climb. The Vermont 50 has jeep trail full of loose stones and dried up riverbed descents. And, I will never forget the Sugarbush XTERRA where I had to bike/hike-a-bike up Plumline.

Regardless, Day 4 was long and tough. Anna, Kim and I were within minutes of each for almost the first half of the race, when I came upon Anna on the side of the trail with a broken derailleur. I felt so bad for her and was so enjoying our leap frogging that I almost teared up (so much for the hard core competitor in me)! She turned back to hike towards the previous aid station and I took the lead. Same as every day –hike-a-bike ascents to fun descents singletrack and undulating trails like Squirrel Gap and Horse Cove. A final descent down Black Mountain had me rolling into the finish at 5:48. Kim followed 10 minutes later. In the overall standings, that puts me in 2nd. So, off for another long day today but the race director has promised that the climbs will be gradul and we have four fun, long singletrack descents. We’ll see!

Another trail day in Vermont

Another trail day in Vermont
This thought was repeatedly running through my head during today’s stage out of Mills River Campground. Although today’s 25 miles with 3200 elevation gain included the rough trails we’ve come to know as “Pisgah old school style,” today’s race was more of a undulating day, with “reasonable” climbs that could be done in the middle or even big ring. That was good enough for me. Too many hours in the granny gear, sitting and spinning up gravel roads for 45 minutes at a time, had my glutes spent and my quads feeling [slightly) fresher. I was more than happy to adopt my preferred “stand and grind” riding style - for a few hours, at least.

Female Trio
As has become our daily start, Anna, Kim and I started out climbing together, alternating pulling & drafting and chatting about kids, races, hopes for our legs holding up. Going into the trails, you would never have known of the deluge of a few days ago. The one stream crossing was ridable and the red/orange clay (consisting of schist, mica and feldspar) on the trail was already tacky. After a playful descent (I am loving my dropper seat, although sometimes I have to manually lock it out because of the permanent grit in the spring), our trio stopped at a three-limb Sycamore that had dropped in the recent in the storm and assembly line handed over our bikes. Anna took the lead and I wasn’t surprised to watch her pull away. I reminded myself that a PhD candidate in mechanical engineering must have some pretty stellar mental processing ability at rapid speed. About ten miles in, I settled into a manageable big gear on a very gradual rooty trail climb and leap frogged into the lead. I covered some ground on a fast, grassy double track, but because I was alone, I started to become pre-occupied with the idea that I was off course (sometimes there is a lot of time to think). Although the race organizers had consistently flagging each course (every 5 minutes there is a ribbon), there were two different detours/mistours yesterday. I knew today’s course did a cloverleaf and I could easily have been on the wrong “loop”. Fortunately, the Perfomance duo team from Raleigh, NC came by, I jumped on the back of the “drafting train” and we cruised into the aid station at mile 14. The rest of the race was a mix of singletrack and gravel roads, some of the climbing was sloggy-slow or hike-a-bike over steep, rooty sections. At one point, the mascot in the White Squirrel suit blew a bullhorn at me and yelled “Pedal!” “Pedal!” while a woman in a bumblebee outfit jumped around. Yesterday, spiderman was on the course.

First Place Finish
I hustled the last trail, because I would not have been surprised to have Anna or Kim fly by me. As it was, I cruised into the finish at 2:33, with Anna a minute behind and Kim, a minute behind her. It is quite cool that for three women in the race, we are riding so close together, making for shared appreciation and good old competition. Phil had come in tied for first with Jason, a local who had 15 minutes on him the first day but came in 20 minutes behind him yesterday (b/c of the mis-tour I mentioned before where Jason went the right way, but MOST racers when the shorter long way and cut 2.5 miles off the course). I thought of our visit with my cousin, Paul, who, after asking about our Pisgah race strategy, had offered up his. “When they say “go”, I attack.” We had laughed at the time (even though Paul was serious and that really is his race strategy for the Shenandoah 100), but today I had decided to treat this stage a little more than the recovery day it was billed as. I had a feeling that it would be the only chance I had to be at the top of the podium (even for a day). I’ll either be sorry or glad tomorrow as I’m back spinning in the saddle up 8,000 feet.

Farlow Fame

Great day on the trail today! 32 miles with 5,500 elevation gain, including lots of gravel road climbing and singletrack descents, including the famed Farlow Gap, which is renowned for its harrowing baby head boulders and stream crossings (one racer did get his bike wheel stuck in a waterfall...). Phil came in 6th overall today and was 1st in his category (mens 40+) and I was 2nd woman. There are 3 women in the open category and the local woman, Kim has quite a lead (45 minutes on me from the two stages). Anna from New Brunswick has 18 minutes on me (but took a wrong turn today, costing her some time..) It is fun to start out with these women, leap frogging/drafting each other for the first hour (until they decide to "go").

Too late for too many details tonight but see the photos and videos below. The Sunset Motel hosts the evening awards, stage video, food and libations. Tomorrow we can look forward to some road climbing and then flowy single track descents. The race organizer called it a "vacation," but I think that means "hammer-fest."

http://www.cyclingdirt.org/coverage/249739-2012-Pisgah-Mountain-Bike-Stage-Race/video/656166-Phil-Beard-6th-I-didnt-know-you-were-so-fast-did-you-know-you-were-so-fast-Pisgah-Stage-Race http://www.cyclingdirt.org/coverage/249739-2012-Pisgah-Mountain-Bike-Stage-Race/video/656165-Kelly-Ault-2nd-Intense-and-mentally-challenging-Pisgah-Stage-Race
 

Mental Grit

Waterlogged
The race parking marshals directed us from under golf umbrellas. Phil and I biked to the start as the monsoon soaked our socks and shoes and the road became a river of running water. Earlier that morning the wind had been howling and the Doppler Radar showing strong cells nearby as we sat at breakfast, mixing homemade plum jam with our oatmealand joking about going to the Biltmore for the day.

Rhodo Tunnels and Rivers
The other racers were in good spirits as we lined up at the start, with pros Jeremiah Bishop and Sam Koeber at the front line and Kim, a local fast woman next to us. After a 45-minute climb on gravel road, we entered the trail, which, at this point, was a river of mud. Slightly downhill, it was almost fun to slide and splash down, except there was always the uncertainty of whether a rock or root was going to surprise you. The “rhodo tunnels” were tight, with wet, thick leaves brushing riders and making visibility around the next corner tricky. For the next 10 miles, the trail (called Squirrel Gap) undulated along the edge of Laurel Mountain, with rocks and root ladders stretching across the 1.5-foot wide trail. Numerous streams bringing water off the mountain cut through the trail in mini waterfalls. At one point, I navigated a raging stream that swirled around my knees and tugged at my bike wheels.

Bikes Revolt
In addition to every biker being covered in grit, bikes were started to revolt. Most racers’ brakes were grinding with silt and micro-stones and rubbing most of the race (including mine and Phil’s). At one point, my dropper seat (filled with grit) was sinking every few minutes until a mechanic at an aid station helped me lock it out. One racer replaced both front and rear brakes twice during the race and still did not have brakes on the final descent (see photo of worn brake pads from the local bike shop, The Hub, post-race). Speaking of the final descent. After the abovementioned Squirrel Gap trail, a welcome section of gravel road led to a singletrack gradual climb of greasy red/orange mud to the 7-mile Black Mountain Trail. This climb up rooty switchbacks had numerous hike-a-bike sections. The view from the peak was obscured by fog, but by this time the rain was light. The descent down the backside to the finish was on a 100-year old trail, where erosion had created three foot, staircase like drops that required mental focus, a position way off the back seat and strong arms to hang on! The Vermonters held our own. Phil finished the race in 5:03 and I rolled in at 5:33. Despite the challenge, it was an adventurous day and in some strange way, I enjoyed the craziness of the conditions and the wildness, old-school trails in the Pisgah forest. After some time at the bike shop, we cleaned up, went to the awards gathering where we met the White Squirrel mascot (who is a really night guy who yells at you on the trail..) and then settled back in the cottage to rest up for tomorrow’s race out of the Cradle of Forestry (the Birthplace of Forest Conservation in America). The stage will include the famed Farlow Gap trail and the weather forecast is SUNNY! More tomorrow!

Soggy Spirits

Soggy Spirits
Heavy Rain. 100%. These words are repeated hourly across the forecast today through Wednesday morning. My sunny disposition towards tomorrow's race start has dampened as dramatically as the weather. I was in denial when I awoke this morning to the pattering on the roof of our little cottage. I was even a little optimistic when Phil and I started out on a spin in what seemed like a lightening of the sky from gray to white. However, as we stood under an awning outside the CVS Pharmacy as the sky opened up, I started to think seriously about the trail conditions in the mountains surrounding us and about how I was going to approach stage 1. I know wet and muddy trails. I've rode them. I've raced them. But tomorrow's 39 miles and 6,200 feet of elevation gain on rugged single track and grueling climbs seems a little daunting.

Spring Singletrack
Vermont’s lackluster snow season had an upside. The riding season started early with warm temperatures allowing trail networks to opening earlier than usual. Phil and I took Austin and Carson riding at Sunny Hollow in Colchester in March. Mountain bikers reunioned at trailheads in April and the stretch of fair weather lasted all season long. Although I’ve put in time on the saddle consistently this year, it wasn’t as intentional an effort as last year in training for the BC Bike Race. I felt a certain amount of assurance that I was “ready” at that race’s start line in early July because I had put in 200 hours on my bike (with one week at 18 hours)! This year’s riding was more opportunistic or more about riding with our 8-year old boys. We took family trips to the Kingdom Trails. We raced weeknights at the Catamount Outdoor Center and Millstone. We drove to Canada to ride in Coaticook and East Hereford, where machine-built trails meet boreal forest and the best creemie in the world can be found. We raced the 12 hours of Millstone as a family team and our boys came off the course after 3 hours (some of it in the rain!) exhilarated and only disappointed that they couldn’t go for more. I’ve had a blast riding with the women of Mountain Moxie, Vermont’s women’s mountain bike team and the girls of Moxie Sparks that the team has sponsored this year, so they can experience mountain biking and get a taste for racing. These experiences are coupled with the rides I love to do by myself, so I can soak in the solitude in the woods and the time away from my to-do list or email. So, even though I didn’t follow a training “plan”, do weekly intervals or even ride in the rain (why, when it's been so dry?), I can say to myself at tomorrow’s start line that I’ve averaged about 10 hours a week beginning in April. I guess that gets me to over 200 hours, too, although not many of them have been over 3 hours long. All I can do is hope that is enough for the challenge ahead!

Sealed in Ziplocs
After gathering out gear (packing our tools in ziplock bags!), Phil and I headed out to dinner at the Brevard Music Center. We chatted with a couple from Tampa, Florida, met several sets of Canadians that had traveled farther than we had, and connected with the race videographer, Tom, who Phil has raced with at the Vermont 50. The race director opened his course overview by telling us that we were in the oldest mountain range of the world, that it is considered a temperate rainforest and that we should expect 2-3 inches of rain tonight. “The race will go on,” he said, “but if you have a fender [for your bike], or the means to make one, you might want to.” He went on to describe each day’s stage and logistics, including tomorrow’s Squirrel Gap trail, which is locally known as “half track” (instead of singletrack). Way smaller than the BC Bike Race (or even the Vermont 50), there will be 75 racers at the Black Mountain Trailhead in the morning, including only 3 women (and a few more in duo teams). Although surprised and disappointed at the lack of female camaraderie, there is always a buoying racer spirit at these events and I expect the Pisgah Stage Race to be no different. I think I hear thunder. Better gets some sleep! More tomorrow…