The BT Epic

Three short years ago I started racing hill bikes as a lowly pee-on in the beginner class. If you had asked me then to ride 55 miles my response would have been "Like in a week, dude?" yeah I talked like that it explains why I didn't have any friends. A lot has changed for me since then. I use the term dude sparingly and only in it literal sense (a hair on an elephants butt). Also I has taken to the masochistic ritual of racing endurance races. I raced three 50+ mile races this season and loved each and everyone of them. Most recently being the Berryman Trail Epic put on by the Springfield Cycling Club and they did one hell of a job.
The start of the race was at 830 and just a little below perfect temperature. The DRJ power house had a nice showing of riders (Wes, Chris, Jim, Tom, Scott, and myself). Everyone was stoked to be out there as we goofed around and acted like mountain bikers on the line. Around 8:30 some Dude, who had been telling us what to do, yelled go and everyone decided that was a good enough start for an all-day-in-the-saddle-race (Just the clarify all day to Chris Ploch is 4hours and 42min.) We fallowed the race car down a paved road and onto a gravel one then we were directed onto another gravel road which we climbed for about three miles. I was warming up and feeling like I had some gas so I stepped on it and entered the woods around 20th. Not to shabby for a fat kid who has not been ridding his bike. I was rocking out to my Race day 2 play list and managed to pass a few guys before the 10mile check point or as I call it the place of disaster. Heading into the check point we had to cross a creek which had a very sketchy bridge build over it that we had to walk. I did this then hopped back on the bike to ride the thirty feet to pick up my shinny yellow zip tie. Some how I managed to cut both side walls in this short stretch. I flipped the bike upside down and began to watch my place get closer and closer to the rear. I got a new tube in the front tire borrowed a floor pump and soon found out that as some random dude said "you've got problems" he almost had a punch in the face after his Einstein epiphany. The tube had a puncture so I began the process over again (with a tube that had a patch on it). I got the Gu packet in place and once again began inflating the tire. This time I had success! I check the back tire and the Stan's No Tube had worked by sealing the cut (or so I thought) so i inflated it, grabbed two cookies and hopped back on the bike. Up the road and just into the woods the rear tire was flat again. I reached for my third and final tube. It was a 26 I ride on 29s. Good thing rubber stretches or I would have been screwed and there would be a lot of bastard children running around. With the tire seated I hit it with the CO2 and actually looked like I knew what I was doing. That is until I flipped the wheel over and realized that there was a rock wedged in between the tire and the rim. I let out all of the precious air and then hit it with the CO2 again. I didn't have enough to inflate it fully so I bummed a mini pump one of the last racers that I had seen in the last 10min in topped it off before sending him on his merry way chock full of good karma. I packed up my trash and made a note that I had nothing left with which to fix flats. I had to ride uber clean! That said I put the bike back on the trail and realized the front tire was in fact flat again. What now? Well I believe the last two riders of the race where just getting ready to pass me and they gave me a 26inch tube and the use of their mini pump. I changed the tube (I was really good at this point) thanked them and head back to the check point to Catch a ride back to the cabins. HELL NO! I haven't DNF'ed all season I wasn't about to start now. I did go back to the check point to top off my tires with the floor pump and more cookies. Needless to say I was frustrated. But I took that frustration and threw it in the frying pan like butter when i grilling pancakes and melted it into sweet savory goodness.
My play list was still rocking so I set the pace fast enough to catch people. Which I started to do. I gained back about 10-12 places as I clawed my way up the climbs, ripped my way down descents, with a smattering of flossing in the flats. The trails where in amazing shape and the weather was perfect for a long fall ride. I was still grinning (my race grin is crusted drool around a gaping mouth) as I climbed up to the last check point, picked up my back zipp tie, and was told that I looked fresh. My guessing is that old boy told every racer that but it helped give me a boost as a pointed the bike down the 3 miles of grave road that we had climbed that morning. 6hours and 37min was the official time that I crossed the line. I was beat and just wanted a shower and some food.
This race is already on my calender for next season so I suggest that you make it a point to be there as well, otherwise you can be weak sauce for another winter.