Chain, Chain, Chain...

Boyne Mountain Marathon
50 Miles, All Uphill - Yes, it is Possible
M. C. Escher Proved It

First, it was a brand new Sram chain. Second, there were only five in the 50+ group, so there was a good opportunity for a podium finish. Third, simple navigational skills are a plus in mountain bike racing. Fourth, at least one of the five DNF'd.

The Course
I arrived early so I could ride a bit of the course before the race. It was warm with a light rain, though once in the woods, the cover was so complete that everything was dry. Eventually the skies turned blue. The first part of the course was relatively flat to rolling, then about a mile in there were some major topo spikes that were short, but very steep. I need a lot of warming up before my legs are happy with turning the cranks on these, especially after climbing some inhuman grade for fifty yards or so then hitting big roots or sand. The glaciers had dumped some real serious grinds into these little hills and 150 million years later or so my legs were feeling the effects.

This is a fifty mile race and though I realized it was at Boyne "Mountain," I wasn't sure how challenging the hills would be. I mean, one way to set up the course is to go up the hills with switchbacks. The climbs might be long, but they're not air sucking steep. Another way is to use the leg deadening method and go straight up the slope. These rip the quads into nice shreds. This race had a mix of climbs. The course was bisected by a paved road about two-thirds of the way in. The north side of the road had tremendous singletrack and those short witchy, biting vertical climbs. The south side climbed the resort's ski hills through the woods. These weren't as steep, but they went up and up and up. There was little relief from flats or downhill slopes on these.

I, of course, parked in the wrong place and had to move my car ten minutes before the start. The parking lot wasn't too far off, but far enough to get my heart pumping pretty good, fearing that I wouldn't get to the start in time. I did just fine. Amazing how worked up I can get. Unnecessary, but I do it anyway.

We lined up and I found my little group of 50 plussers. All the groups were sent off at about 30 second intervals. Right behind us were the Expert single-speeders. I was to find out later that these guys were unrelenting and I was passed by a few at about halfway through the first lap. Anyway, we set out and one guy was a jack rabbit right away, three of us stayed together for some time and the fifth settled into an easy pace behind.

The fifth, I think his name was Will, was nice and friendly at the start as we waited. It was a pleasant way to start a race. He introduced me around and worried that I'd leave him in the dust with my impressive Priority Health kit. I was also the only guy who looked like a pack mule with about twenty extra pounds of fluids hanging off the bike or strapped to my back, so I really didn't know what he was concerned about. I'm a believer in fluids in 50 mile tear-your-heart-out and make you sweat races. Others in the race must have had people handing them things because some went off happily with only one little bottle. That would be nice. My cadre of groupies and team support staff was not present, so I was the designated water carrier. I was Hans "Solo," and Sam M(alone) all in one and I wasn't going to do this thing without a lot of electrolytes and water.

The three of us set a reasonable pace until the biting little hills when I wasn't yet up to the task of pedaling all the way up. The other guys were and it gave me an opportunity to let them go ahead. The one thing I really like about racing cyclocross and mountain bikes is that I tend to find my own pace and work from there. I'll find others who like my pace and work with them, but if we don't get in sync that's ok. I either stretch out on my own again or find someone else to work with. As usual, there were bikes strewn all along the trail plucking away at their own pace.

Through the first lap I tried to get a rhythm with the hills. The single track was fantastic and tricky and you were up down and around all over the place. I'm not sure what the rules are for riding at Boyne other than race days, but I'm coming back just to cruise around with friends. The trails are a joy to kick about on.

About half way through, my gears began to get ornery, but I just figured that was because of all the steep ascents and the undue amount of tension it was putting on the chain. But I did notice that others alongside me weren't having the same issue. Hmmm.

One lap down and I was already aching, but I didn't feel like I'd cramp and there was a good stretch in which to recover after passing the start/finish line. I can't say coming off the mountain was relaxing. There were numerous switches on some wicked descents that kept the muscles working hard, but they were also invigorating in a masochistic kind of way.

In that first lap I was passed by only a few of the younger Sport class riders and I'd passed a number of younger Experts, though my 50+ group was still ahead somewhere. I just hoped they'd fry and I'd use my pace to catch back up.

Wandering
Ok, so I can't get points for navigation. About a third of the way in on the second lap I did manage to find a whole new and exciting trail with one large hill that yielded beautiful panoramic views. I do have a problem with daydreaming at times and I used one of those moments not to follow the little red arrows used to chart our trail. If I would have turned around at the top of panorama point the damage would probably not have been too bad, but I decided to plummet down the other side thinking how cool and sandy and steep the descent was and thinking all the way down that this wasn't familiar at all. At the bottom I looked back up hoping that someone would appear on the ridge. It was very quiet. I began to pedal back, got mired in the sand and pushed up the rest of the way. With a return along the trail I saw other riders pedaling through the trail that I'd missed. I'd probably gone about ten minutes out and back. Not a good plan in a race.

I hopped in behind the navigationally gifted and cranked along. My legs, fortunately, had loosened up and the witchy steep climbs were doable at this point. Guys actually got out of my way as I went thup, thup, thup up and over. My job at this point was to stay on the designated race course. On one of the long climbs up the mountain I passed someone who asked if I was lapping him. I thought that would be interesting after a lap and a half on a 12 mile course, but he said he swore I already passed him twice before. He did look familiar and I know I'd passed him once before I got lost, but twice? Exhaustion delusions were beginning to take over his mind. I could have toyed with him at this point and left him a puddle of insecurity on the trail, but I told him my story of woe and cranked away toward the top of the ski hill.

Links
Within twenty feet of the top, my chain skipped, then everything went loose. I tried to shift gears, but all was silent as my legs spun in the pedals. I looked back and right behind me, laid out in the trail, was a snake in a straight line. I hadn't seen it when I passed. Then I realized the snake was my chain. It looked so well laid out. So in line with the single track. A couple minutes later the guy who I'd passed a couple of times passed me. He looked down and groaned as I sat there in the brush breaking my chain. Another guy offered me a connector link, but I didn't want to compromise his race. My race was already a mess. Nearly everyone who passed asked if I needed help. An amazing group of racers this mountain bike crowd.

It was very peaceful at the top of that mountain as I tried to decide what to do. Eventually, Will, the fifth rider in my group passed--and asked if I needed help--and I still had a ways to go before my chain was back on the bike. I said all was good. I was already imagining an alternative reality, lying on a Lake Michigan beach with my wife and daughter who were wandering the area awaiting my return.

My chain back on, I headed over the top of the hill checking the gears as I shifted up and down. I missed the turn onto the race trail. Man was I not in this anymore. A couple of guys yelled to me and pointed out the trail as they disappeared into the descending woods. I looped around and plummeted down the trial. On a couple of short sharp rises, my chain was still dancing unsettled about the sprockets, so I decided that my race was over. I didn't embrace the idea of getting deep onto the woods on a third lap only for the chain to snap again.

Finally
It's not my favorite way to end a race. My favorite way is to do the whole thing. And though the course was a tough one, it was also full of challenges that were a thrill to tackle. I did two laps and my legs felt like they'd gotten a great workout. I'll have to get this chain thing straightened out before Ore-to-Shore. But, as I said, water is important and I knew a beach with tons of it.