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Nantahala Endurance Race
by Chris Gilligan
February 2000
Last weekend, while many of my cycling buddies were enjoying the balmy
tropical temperatures of north Florida for the Ididaride tour, or cranking it up on
stationary bikes at the "Tour de Mall: Race to Nowhere" I chose a more
challenging event.
Friday night, January 21, I headed for the mountains of North Carolina.
I spent the night with former Chattanoogan (and Litespeedian), Kent Cranford, who has a
little cabin in Moonshine Hollow, NC. Kent works from his home as a computer networking
consultant, and he surfs the Internet at warp speed through a broadband satellite
connection. How fast is it? Well, for you techies out there, I have a fractional T-1
connection (512K) at work, and Kent's setup is easily as fast on the download, though he
has to upload at normal POTS speed (which tops out at around 26.6Kbps from Moonshine
Hollow).
Contrasting with that high technology is Kent's other home
infrastructure, which includes a spring well for water and a wood stove hooked up to his
central heat system. City boy that I am, I had brought a bottle of spring water with me
for drinking. Kent's comment: "What the hell do you think comes out of the faucet
over there? It might have a little bit of cricket and salamander in it, but hey, I
guarantee it's cleaner than that crap in your big plastic jug."
I had traveled to NC to do the Nantahala Outdoor Center's mountain bike
endurance race, which is in the same Subaru-sponsored series as their elite adventure
race, which will take place in March, 2000. I have always wanted to do a point-to-point
(true cross-country) mountain bike race. This event, advertised at 60 miles, was just my
ticket. I liked the fact that it would be a self-supported event, and that the course
wouldn't be known until the day of the event.
Kent, an expert bike geek and outdoors enthusiast who worked at NOC for
several years, turned out to be the ultimate pre-race host. I plied him with beer, and he
quickly broke down and agreed to give me the full skinny on the race course. We cranked up
the computers, aimed the satellite dish, and surfed over to http://www.topozone.com to
check out the topographic maps of the area. Kent showed me the potential route (which
turned out to be exactly correct). Thanks to his expert advice and map skills, I was able
to set the strategies that would carry me to victory.
I drank gallons of water and downed a couple of ibuprofens, and had a
pretty restful night. I woke up at 0430, cooked up a batch of egg, cheese, and veggie
protein bagels, had a couple of bananas, yogurt and coffee, more salamander water, etc.
Kent's doggie friends are now my buddies for life: I just had to share a few morsels of my
breakfast with them.
By 0530, I was hydrated, carbed, proteined, caffeinated and ready to
hit the road when the phone rang. "Gilligan, you fool, get out of bed! We'll grab
some powdered donuts for you on the way to the pre-race meeting. Hurry up or you'll miss
the start!" That was the voice of Marvin Masson, one of my riding buddies from
Atlanta. "Martian" is a member of SORBA...his wife, Karen, is a pro-level MTB
racer.
"No sweat, man...I was on my way out the door. See you at the
races!"
We met at the River's Edge restaurant at NOC for the pre-race; there
were about 20 riders for the event...Brenda and Lee Simrell from Chattanooga were there. I
recognized them from some of the "Team Turbana" bootleg extreme races we host
locally. I also met Jon Wilkinson, an NOC staffer who looked like he might be able to hang
with us.
I signed the waiver, dropped my entry fee, and ambled over to the
counter to pick up a free muffin.
CRASH, WHAM, clinkety clinkety dribble dribble.
I had fumbled a big plastic juice glass, which bounced all over the
hardwood floor in the dining room and definitely got everyone's attention. Just like at
summer camp when someone would drop a plate in the mess hall, everyone cheered and
applauded my performance. I blushed and headed for the coffee to help me wake up a little
more.
Our husband and wife race organizers, Norm Greenberg and Tracyn Thayer,
handed out maps and cue sheets (which elicited in me a strong sense of deja vu, thanks to
Kent's briefing). Norm told us what to expect and how to be prepared for the extreme
conditions we would face during the race. It was still dark and freezing outside: 14
degrees, forecast calling for snow showers and a high of 30 degrees. I discussed gear and
clothing with my friends. I opted for an outfit that would keep me warm and dry if the
conditions got really nasty. I didn't really consider myself a contender for the race,
given the fact that most of my friends were much faster riders, so I planned to take the
ride at a fast touring pace. Lee and Brenda chose to wear minimal clothing and keep their
load as light as possible for the race. Bad choice. Karen and Marvin picked something in
between.
Gear comparison:
Me
Helmet, skull cap, neckwarmer
Capilene long shirt, polypro long jersey, knit short sleeve jersey,
fleece windstopper vest, waterproof/breathable parka
Full finger cycling gloves, insulated GoreTex ski gloves
Cycling shorts, lycra tights, nylon knickers
Cycling shoes, expedition weight wool socks, neoprene toe booties,
gaiters
Bottom line: Nanook of the North...too much stuff, but
ready for anything Mother Nature can dish out.
Brenda
Helmet, headband
Short sleeve jersey, windbreaker, nylon vest
Polypro cycling gloves
Cycling shorts, lycra tights
Cycling shoes, cycling socks, neoprene overboots
Bottom line: Racer-X...great outfit for a cold weather
training ride.
We loaded the bikes and jammed into a couple of vans for the shuttle to
the start in Whittier, NC. After cruising around the parking lot to double check my steed,
I noticed my buddies standing inside the post office lobby, chatting and keeping warm.
Good choice. I joined them.
The race started at 0812, and the pack headed out. Snow started falling
within minutes. We formed a paceline, made a couple of turns on county roads, then began
ascending Cowee mountain on a gravel road, which quickly became covered with snow and ice.
Brenda and Lee, two of the strongest riders I know, were not keeping up. Light and fast
just doesn't work when the temperatures are in the teens. By the time we reached the top
of the gap, conditions were really treacherous: everybody had spun out and walked several
times on the way up. I watched Marvin hit a patch of ice and get totally slammed down as
if someone had jerked a rug from under him. Ouch.
We met Norm at the top of the gap, and he checked off our race numbers,
telling us we were going pretty fast for the terrible conditions. For the downhill, I
chose to suit up with my parka to fend off the bitter wind. Good choice. I hung back to
see how the others were faring on the slippery forest road, checking my braking and
cornering limits, feeling which combinations of snow/ice/gravel/muck had the best
traction. At one point, the road became very frozen, but relatively free of snow cover.
Frozen gravel now tops my list of the most traction-enhanced surface I have ever
encountered. I cut it loose and started cranking in top gear, blazing past my shivering
companions. Marvin dropped in behind me and the race was on. The only real problem I faced
on the way down was keeping my fingers limber...they got a little cold, but not too bad.
As the road leveled out, I coasted for a while, looked back, saw nobody, and pulled over
to check the cue sheet. The rest of the lead pack was! ….. pretty close behind, only
a couple of minutes back at most. Brenda and Lee were totally frozen and decided they
would probably have to drop out. Marvin and Jon were fine, Karen's hands were cold, but
she could continue. I briefed the pack on the cues for the next checkpoint, we formed a
peloton and cranked away.
Things were pretty uneventful for the next couple of checks, which were
mostly on county roads and about 5 miles apart. At checkpoint 3, we decided to eat,
defrost, and get set for the big pull up Tellico gap. Jon's feet were really numb, so the
checker suggested he use some plastic baggies for a vapor barrier in his shoes. He had
some trouble getting this accomplished because his fingers were also a bit frozen. Karen
thawed her hands in the van while everybody took potty breaks or reloaded on carbs and
water. Hydration Tip 1: your camelback hose will freeze, so you have to keep it tucked
into your jacket. Tip 2: mix up a bottle of extra-strong Gatorade; the salt and sugar will
keep it from totally freezing (trail slushie).
At this point, Nicole Haller passed us. I was antsy to get going, but I
restrained myself long enough to wait for my peloton pals to get ready. Good Choice.
Within 10 minutes, we caught Nicole on the approach to Tellico Gap. She
hung with us for a couple of hundred yards, then was off the back. Moral: rest with the
pack, run with the pack. Karen and Marvin dropped me on the climb, but shouted
encouragement every time we passed on the switchbacks. I did the same for Jon. Again,
everybody was spinning out...the only surface that had any traction was the powdery snow
in the middle of the road. At one point, I spun around 180 degrees and started heading
downhill. The hill was too steep and slippery to get back on and start pedaling; I was
grateful that I had the toe spikes installed on my cycling shoes for good traction. As I
was walking, I noticed lots of animal tracks in the snow on the road: bunny prints, turkey
feet, coyote paws, etc. I continued climbing, and as I neared the top of the gap, I saw my
favorite animal. A red-tailed hawk screeched and flapped, struggling with the heavy
headwind coming through the gap. As it reached the saddle, it tucked its wings and
disappeared over the other side.
I met Marvin and Karen at the top of the gap, confirmed the cues for
the next check, and waited for Jon. He had ridden the course before, so he told me he was
cool with the directions. I battened down the hatches and headed downhill, feeling like
the hawk I had seen moments before. I caught Marvin and Karen about halfway down, and we
once again formed our paceline, which had been getting progressively smaller throughout
the race. We talked about our finish line strategy, convinced that no one would catch us.
I begged for mercy, saying I needed the $75 prize to buy my kids some new hiking boots.
"Come on now," said Karen, "you'll have to sprint if you want it. This is
not a training ride, you know."
As we rounded the corner before the Fontana dam powerhouse, Marvin
dropped off the lead and I began my turn pulling the line. I saw some porta potties. I saw
a van. Something clicked and I was sprinting, hard. Just at the line, Marvin pulled
alongside me, and Karen was a couple of seconds behind. We blew past Tracyn's van and
continued over the bridge, coasting out our sprint.
Marvin and Karen were laughing and giving me the "evil eye"
for getting the jump on them in the home stretch. Tracyn said the finish was too close to
call, so Marvin and I accepted the tie.
Jon and Nicole were close behind, a couple of minutes back. Tracyn had
us all line up for the podium shot. Somebody grabbed my butt, causing me to make a weird
face, which I can't wait to see in the photo.
We all piled into the van to get warm, and Tracyn served up some much
appreciated hot chocolate.
Time: 4 hours and 2 minutes; distance 42 miles.
Not the mall, not Florida, not the Saturday most of the world would
enjoy, but it was my idea of a good time.
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