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Big Daddy 2006January, 2007by David Meek, CBC President 2006Every year hardcore multisport athletes make the pilgrimage to Lookout Mountain for the annual running of the Big Daddy half Ironman. Perhaps you have not heard of this race sense there are no flyers at the bike/running shops or listings in the club web sites. Big Daddy is outlaw racing at its best. Outlaw races are low key events that come and go before the authorities know what has happened. There are no permits, police escorts etc, just show and go before the Cops or Ranger Rick can pull the plug on the fun. Long time cyclist John Currier, who now resides on the west coast, is the Father of Big Daddy. His sick version of fun has become an annual event in the dark world of underground racing. John still calls the shots for this race each holiday season while visiting friends and family in Chattanooga. Normal race conditions are bitter cold or wet for Big Daddy. This year forecasts called for starting temperatures of 40 degrees and sunny afternoon temperatures approaching 60 degrees. These favorable conditions almost led to the cancellation of the race. But after the pre race meeting it was decided that a fair weather race was better than no race at all. So the race was on, just like the Cannonball Run. The Chattanooga bicycle club was well represented with Jim & Carol Farmer, Lisa Thompson and defending 2005 winner yours truly. Scenic City Velo and Rock Creek Outfitters had a strong showing as well. Former winner Marshall Martin and teammate Sam Silvey of Nashville’s team Juris along with other non-conformer racer-x personalities rounded out the field. Among them were young rising stars A.J. Meyers and Josh Wheeler wearing his Appy State race kit. After pre race photos (mug shots) were taken to document the field we were off on the wild ride down Scenic Highway on pavement still wet from the previous day’s rains. The Ruby Falls traffic attendant had to dive for safe ground at the side of the road as we whizzed by at 50 MPH. The decent quickly split the field in half as the more sane racers chose not to risk life and limb so early into the race. I managed to stay in the break thanks to fresh rubber and the stability of my trusty Privateer Road Racer. From the base of Lookout we threaded needles through intersections, jumped curbs and reeked havoc on the city of Chattanooga in route to Red Bank and highway 27 (Corridor J). Any goodwill I may have earned as an officer in the club over the past year was just negated by 10 minutes of road race rage. Speaking of the club I was wearing my CBC jersey proudly representing the CBC at the front of the pack in the race of races. The next obstacle was the climb up Stringers Ridge, the heart rate pegged on max as I held the wheels of some of Chattanooga’s finest cyclists. I had to stay with these guys to have a chance of the overall win no matter about the lactic acid accumulating my legs. Next we hit the entrance ramp to highway 27 from Signal Mountain Road, past the sign that said motorized vehicles only. As we climbed the big hill there was a police officer parked on the side of the road shooting radar. We slowed to turn around but Curry said there is strength in numbers and continued on. We blindly followed, the officer did not pursue, he must have been on break, a luck break for us. On the highway we cranked the speed up as we headed to Falling Water. SCV’s Paul Vankooten who was riding his mountain bike and doing an outstanding job, actually setting the pace at times, must have redlined his XTR drive train. The chain broke at 30 MPH while in tight formation, almost taking out team Juris in the process. Tough luck for Paul, he had planned to use his low gearing on Roberts Mill Road to make his break. We hit the Robert Mill Road climb and it’s everyone for themselves. I push myself to the limit to get to the top in time to regroup with the dwindling leaders. We stop at the required sag at the top. Racers must eat a big hunk of meat (Spam to be specific) or suffer a penalty. This is a Big Daddy tradition that must be adhered to. The notorious climb up the gap and eating of the Spam had thinned the lead group to six. We roll across the top of Signal and down the front side. The climb back over Stringers Ridge was brutal, we were down to five and I was cracking. Pro Privateer Racer Eric McClellan, AKA Big E sand bags the others allowing me to hang on. Over the Walnut Street Bridge young A.J. flats. He and his dad, Expert Adventure Racer Andy Meyers stop for repairs, tough luck it seemed that Andy was sacrificing a chance at victory to help junior. This left Big E, Josh Wheeler and I to race it out. I make it to the climb up Scenic Highway with these guys but I am so wasted from riding above my lactic threshold that I am quickly dropped by Josh on the climb. Big E rides his wheel, making him do the work as they pedal into the distance. I limp into the transition area at the top of the mountain at least 5 minutes behind, body ravaged from lactic acid. To my amazement, Josh waited for me as I transitioned to the run. Another lucky break, the course was not marked and Josh was not 100% sure of the route. I returned Josh’s favor of waiting on me by explaining as best I could the twelve mile course as we ran. I was no match for this young collegiate cross county runner as I was weak and fighting cramps and could only watch as he disappeared into the forest. My goal now was to maintain position but at about three miles in Andy passed me. He was running strong and could be a threat to Josh if he were to have any kind of problems. As I ran I knew that the race was in front of me. Big E was slow in the transition did not appear to be a factor on the run stage of the race. I estimated the next riders in would be twenty plus minutes behind. An impossible deficit to overcome as I knew the trails like the back of my hand.
I ran as hard as I could, tracking the wet foot prints of the two in
front of me. How ironic that I was playing Daniel Boone, tracking down a
Triathlete attending school in Boone North Carolina. I kept reminding myself
not to give up, anything could happen, an injury, cramp, wild animal attack or a
wrong turn could lead to there demise. I also knew that the climb straight up
the mountain called the Big Daddy Climb may break the will of these younger
athletes. By the time I reached the top of the climb my slow twitch muscles were
near a standstill. Surely those two in front of me were as miserable as myself.
A Four mile rock garden lay between me and the finish line and speed was not as
important as coordination and foot placement. I worked the bluff trail rock
garden back to Sun Set rock like a Mountain Lion but still could see no sign of
the leaders. From there the three quarter mile down hill road finish would not
work in my favor. At the finish I learned that Josh had missed a turn and was
overtaken by Andy before he realized his mistake. A big congratulations to Andy,
he fought his way back to the front with experience and determination. As for
Josh, you can bet that next year with his homework complete he will be have
another shot to be a Big Daddy.
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