Photo by Scott Tribby @s_tribby
It’s a lot harder to write about the event that you’ve done and written about before. That’s why my race reports from this year’s Lake City Alpine 50 and RAD are still due. Can’t quite find an inspiration. And the longer I procrastinate, the harder it becomes, as the memories fade and are replaced by new experiences. Grassroots Gravel 2024 took place 2 days ago. I don’t have a plan for this story, but I’m gonna try to go with the flow and see where it takes me. At the end of the day, it goes along well with my plan for the race: my pacing strategy was not to think about one (too much); and part of the fueling tactic was to go with the “Flow” who was a fueling partner of the event (what a clever wordplay, huh?). Let me prove that to you right away...
There’s an early morning group ride that I and a few other cyclists are doing. Supposedly, every Tuesday at 7 a.m., but life is life. Sometimes, it’s family obligations, sometimes work, and sometimes, you do such a great job destroying your body over the weekend that you can’t even get out of bed. That was certainly the case for me today. The weekend itself wasn’t that hard (even though Trestle is never particularly easy on the body), but accumulated fatigue definitely was close to its peak. I hated every second of my life from 6:00 when the alarm went off until 6:44 when I shut the garage door and, one revolution at a time, was on my way to the start of the ride. The only thing my brain was productive with was making all kinds of excuses, including those that were straight-up lies (like I slept through). Legs weren’t bringing any motivation or confidence to the table, either.
“How’s it going?” a friend asked me.
“It’s 7 o'clock, don’t ask.” as grim as it sounds was my half-sincere, half-joking response. With a smile, of course. Only good vibes!
The first climb of the day went pretty well. I didn’t want to jump ahead of the train, but I was not going to let Aaron open a gap on me either. It’s just a fun group ride; no one’s racing here. But I needed that little boost to my confidence. And suddenly I felt fantastic! I kept pushing into every single climb for the rest of the ride. Couldn’t help myself. I was huffing and puffing but smiling at the same time (thankfully, there’s no video evidence of my grimaces that I consider to be smiles). Then falling back for a little chat. Then rinse and repeat.
Now, to the point of this write-up.
I’m so grateful to the folks I’m honored to ride with, especially today. Whatever I say will be an understatement. I felt pumped. I felt positive. I felt simply happy when I got back home. Happiness is such a simple word, but if you think about it — true happiness doesn’t hit you as often as it seems. It’s a moment to cherish. And to be grateful for. I want to thank the people I was riding with today. None of that would’ve happened without them. I would’ve bailed in the blink of an eye (I guess I wouldn’t even open one in the first place, let alone blink).
This ride made my day today. I hope that putting this experience into words will remind my future self: Get out there, you got this, and it’s worth it!
Photo by Tyler Philips @tylerphillipsphoto
I want to start at the end. Because what happened was a true highlight of my already unforgettable day. In the moment (and for the next two hours of driving home), I felt like I had won the Olympics or something. We rolled into the finish “corridor” (I’ll explain the quotes here later) as a group of 5, and I won a legit bunch sprint! Of course, not for the win, but only a 33rd place overall. But you gotta start somewhere, right? Or it might become the peak of my “career,” who knows. Either way — there’s a lot to celebrate!
But right before the sprint… Nope, let’s go back to the start and follow the timeline.
This race sells out rather quickly, but sure enough, I managed to miss the moment when the registration opened in mid-January. I was only 15 minutes late, but it was already sold out. Put my name on the waitlist without too much hope and moved on.
Fast-forward to May 30th, around 3 p.m., when I was in my kitchen having lunch. I’ve got an email that there are a few spots available, and I can get one if I’m swift enough about it (10 people were on that email, with only 6 spots on the line). Snatched it!
The Hundo is a mountain bike race that is 62 miles (100 km) long, with 7350 ft (2250 m) of elevation gain. But none of these numbers matter. What does is that it takes place in Buffalo Creek — an absolute Heaven on Earth. And we’re about to send it big time! Well…
Fun hurts. And dumb fun hurts twice as much.
My buddy Tim caught me at the “right” moment. I already had my entire racing season planned out, but it didn't hit me (yet!) that I might be trying to bite more than I can chew. But the second weekend of May was still open, and he suggested we do a little trip and race Sarlacc Attack 50K MTB in Fruita, CO. I said what my son always says to me when we ski together: “If you send it, I'll send it.” The man can not unring the bell, can he?
After grabbing a number plate and a T-shirt:
— Hey, one last thing. Where should I put my drop bag?
— Umm, you can leave it right here, — says the volunteer, pointing at the corner of the registration tent, — but I can’t guarantee it will get to the aid station. So, if there’s something you really need, you better take it with you.
That’s a USAC-sanctioned event where, in addition to a registration fee, you actually need a license to participate. Hillarious, right? Well, not even close to how I was about to ruin the day for myself.
I don't remember how many soccer balls I had in my childhood (not a lot, though, it was a tough time). But I vividly remember one of them – it was a classic black and beige-white, vintage AF. Maybe it left such a sharp footprint in my memory because I also remember my father stitching it up after some good beating in the mud. Can't really imagine myself doing the same nowadays. With modern goods, you don't even have a chance to express love and care; that opportunity has been taken from us by mass manufacturing, for better or worse. Open “my orders”, click “buy it again”. Problem solved. Convenient and soulless experience.
Grassroots Gravel is a new event on the calendar. It's a successor of Gravel Locos, a well-known bike race that took place in Pueblo, Colorado in years prior to 2023. They share many of the roads, yet an offspring is not the same old candy in a fresh wrapper. As the old Russian saying goes, “What's good for a Russian equals death for a German”. No offense to German people, though, as the saying comes from ancient times when the term “Germans” was used to refer to all foreigners. What I'm saying is that the passing of Gravel Locos, whose paramount desire to attract professional riders of the highest level was unachievable anymore at this time of the year, emptied the room for a cozy gathering of homies on a chilly Saturday morning.
Kowtown wasn’t supposed to be my first-ever gravel experience. I ordered my Fezzari Shafer back in May 2023, and when it was finally built and shipped in the middle of June, FedEx gave me an estimated delivery of Friday night. And I was stoked enough to do something as foolish as to assemble the machine before midnight while registration for Pony Xpress Gravel is still open, then pay the dues, and in the early morning head over to Pueblo for a proper field test. Perhaps it’s for the better that the purple-orange truck didn’t show up that evening. The mind-blowing experience that I’ve ended up having in Kremmling could have been instead an endless miserable bike fitting session in the wilderness (hence the above picture of a brand new but half-ready bike, these handlebars alone would've cost me a major pain in the lower-lower back).
I decided to do this race as a part of my preparation for Leadville Trail 100 and did that for several reasons. First, because your finish time in SR50 helps to improve your starting position in LT100. It’s extremely important if you’re aiming at a sub-9 hours finish or faster. But even with more modest goals, getting out of the white corral makes your day in Leadville a lot more enjoyable than it would be otherwise. Second, because it gives you a sense of how your body performs at high altitudes. And lastly because among all of the LT100 qualifiers, this one is the closest to where I live, just a 3-hour drive. And given that the race starts late in the morning, I don’t even need to stay there the night before. All are extremely practical.
But all that doesn’t do justice to the event. If you ever decide to go and do it — don’t be such a dork :–) Explore the town, spend time with good people, enjoy the ride (for the most part), and keep it fun. I was lucky to correct my course of action and had a lot of joy on that day, but I get no credit for that. Even for the race-related part of fun, I should “thank” the circumstances. That’s how it happened…