Metallurgical Research

Sometime last fall I thought I should try to sign up for the Squamish Test of Metal - and put a reminder in my calendar. The calendar reminded me of this random thought late December, and on New Year's Day evening while driving home from a lovely Mt. Baker ski trip I tried to sign up. I was really tired and was actually hoping that the race would fill up before my entry went in, but mere minutes later I had a racer confirmation and that was that.

Since then I've been trying to fit a lot into my life - working, mountain biking, skiing, climbing, road riding (which is mostly my work commute), occasional runnng, making glass crap, being a wife and a mother to my furry children -  and all the other things that life has to offer. I somehow envisioned myself doing sprint training and such silliness prior to the race, but I really don't feel like sprinting to or from shift work, and time is time. I do have a trainer, but I couldn't find it under the dust that settles on it.

Two weeks ago Andrew, Paul, Marc, Alex and I pre-rode the course - but I couldn't get an idea of how much time it would take based on the pre-ride because there was the usual group-ride stop and go. I did ride as fast as I dared on the downhills, and hurt myself on the uphills, and tried to remember where the bits are I might want to be aware of. And had a great day of course.  I've been riding my big fat bike  all winter, and because it's much better suited to the North Shore and Burke Mtn. behind us I really hadn't been on my little race bike, and this was my first ride on the little bike since the fall. I contracted a mild case of road rash up my leg and arm to remind me of some little details. Lesson learned.

I had "taper 2 weeks" - which meant I rode my little bike a few times to remember how not to crash it, and we went climbing and by last weekend I was soooo tired. Perfect. Time to rest up. Tuesday my mom came to visit from Ontario, and she and Marc were going to spend Saturday (race day) checking out the course. Marc checked, cleaned, fixed and prepped my pretty little bicycle all shiny and fast for race day.

Pre-race week was rainy and race day was lovely sunshine. This suited me very well so I wouldn't feel too guilty with my mom and Marc potentially stuck in pouring rain, and the trails were sticky and not too dusty. The start chute has signs based on expected finishing times, and was full of up-side down bicycles while the riders waited in the shade. This seems like a very easy way of organizing by skill, but it turned out there were a lot of optimists in the group. Paul had told me it took him 4 hours, so I put my bike in the 4:15 - 4:30 area. Then the riders filed in, and something told me I hadn't done this quite right....
There were a LOT of people in this.... 766 to be exact.

The start

Once the race started I started passing people - all the way up the pavement, up the hills, down the slight double track to the single track, where we leisurely meandered down the sketchy gravel hills with 90 degree corners. I had really worried about this section, since that I thought we'd all be ripping along with a take-no-prisoners approach, but no such scenario developed. Unfortunately there was no safe way of passing, and just had to relax and settle into the pace. On the good side, this meant that I was never racing faster than I felt comfortable, and the bloody mess I could have become going down in the gravel was averted. Down one particularly steep hill the gravel turned to super-loose and as I was catching the riders ahead of me I heard the rider behind suddenly skidding... skidding... branches breaking and then off he went into the forest. Since I didn't hear him scream I continued on. More carnage ensued later, which is part of the fun of racing!

As I popped out at Alice Lake Marc and my mom were there cheering me on - and it was very cool to see them! 

This is the picture of me coming up the road.

We dipped into more fast trails (where it also wasn't wide enough to pass anyone) and leisurely climbed uphill. Anyone that's ridden with me knows I'm not an up-hiller - I'm a down-hiller, so if I'm passing people on an uphill YOU ARE VERY SLOW. But - up - and then steep steep up where I finally passed people who were walking off the side of the trail now - and into the Corners - zipped along in a long line and back to trail - and down lovely flowy shady singletrack until we hit the bottom of Nine Mile Hill. 

The day was getting warm, and I filled my camelpack. Lots of racers had bottles - but given the number of bottles littering the trail after they bounced out of the bike cages I assume a lot of people may have been a bit thirsty. Nine Mile Hill on the pre-ride was not bad - long, with short downs, always more ups, then the bridge at the top and another granny-ring uphill - and it was shady, nice and cool....  Nine Mile Hill race day was a windless sunny oven of pain. And this is where my race actually started, since it was the first time I had space in front. I passed people all the way up, but was really busy trying to evaluate how hard I was pushing and whether I was going to get heat stroke or not. Near the top I was wondering if they make heart rate monitors with Body Temp gauges to warm you that this is stupid...  A lot of people just flamed out on the hill, walking in a long line up the steep parts. At the top a man hosed us down with a tanker truck of water, and I rode down a short hill and suddenly started shaking with cold. Luckily - there was a gentle uphill where I think everything kind of reset itself and I wasn't melting or freezing, and it was time to go downhill again.

The best downhill is the Powerhouse Plunge part - and I pulled out of the line and dropped my bike seat - and got passed by the 10 people directly behind me. Damn I thought, you better not all ride slowly....  But it turned out not to be an issue, as I rode down the sketchy drops through groups of fit - looking men stopped at the top of the steep bits peering over the edges. There were people riding, but suddenly there were giant gaps between people as the walkers separated out and we went through. I even got a few "you go girl!"'s  on the way from the line of spectators - and I had a blast. Steep, sticky trail, even the rocks weren't slippery this time. 1 dab, and 2 small skid-outs for the whole downhill had me pretty happy. 

I was grinning pretty hard at the bottom, and we headed along more single track to the feed station again. I was out of water and food - and gorged myself as fast as I could. One rider ahead of me abruptly fell off his bicycle as his leg cramped solid, and I drank so much water I felt like I was sloshing every time I hit a bump. More single track and more climbing. In the pre-ride I remember a forever long switchback climb, and although we did a few switchbacks up the hill I was saving myself for it. And saving myself, and then..... still waiting, riding along (always behind someone but now the riders were significantly faster) and waiting.....   and then we were out onto the road and the last rip to the finish.

The finish was in a bright sunny hot park with announcers, people, bicycles, food - and it's possible I may not have been feeling very well as I did ride hard the last hour and a half. I met up with my cheering squad (YAY!) and we got out of there as fast as possible. I would have loved to check results, or get the food they had for racers - but it was just too loud and overwhelming in the park. We went for Gelato (wonderful) and I ate the sandwiches we'd packed as we headed to the Squamish Chief campground. A short walk through the woods - over roots and rocks and uphill which my mom did as though every lady her age wanders over giant rocks all the time, and we met Laura, Luisa and Jason for a spot of bouldering. 

My Mommy!!! With Pippa and Cashew Catton

Marc focusing....

Unfortunately I hadn't thought to bring climbing shoes, being focused on sport #1. Fortunately Luisa leant me hers - and I got to play a bit as well.

My heel hooking the chalky edge. Luisa's shoes match my shirt - that's why I wore them. 

Laura on the "Cheesegrater" with demon eyes (not actually her fault, I don't believe the rumours that she really is a demon) 

Luisa Rockin' the overhang

Me Cheese-gratering

Jason showing off his amazing wingspan

We finally made it home around 9:30 pm. I sat there zombie-like while Marc made dinner, and was in bed by 10:30. Asleep by 10:31.

Now I have to quit typing because I have to google the other Squamish races, and see if any of them might meet my schedule. Don't tell Marc.