Wildcat Epic NUE

It was a day of cat and mouse at the Wildcat 100 NUE #3. I would feel strong, pass a bunch of riders, only to go off course, and have to start the charge again.

The point in the day that I almost completely lost it was 1 mile from the finish area, where the poor course markings had yet again sent me off course. This time it was a 3- mile descent, where myself and another rider ended up having to wave down a passing car that's driver told us we were over the other side of the hill from the venue. That added on 20 minutes to an already long day!

You know that way where you are so close to the end (we had actually ridden past our parked car’s where the race started!), you can’t force any more sugar in your body, your fuse is on the edge, it’s been almost nine hours and you just want to get off your bike?! I had been in second place the entire day, and was gutted to think I may have lost my placing.

To add insult to injury, when we arrived at the finish line, the organizers told us we still had another 2 miles of up-to-your-knees, soupy, thick muddy trails to complete. My face was a picture I am sure! Thankfully Cindy Koziatek, co-owner of Stan’s NoTubes, was at the finish area and cheered me on, giving me at least some motivation. She also settled my nerves (and a bit of whining!) that I had lost 2^nd place during my 20-minute detour. It turned out I got lucky, and had held my place. Cindy had attempted the 100K and had also ended up riding completely off course and was forced to pull out. It’s disappointing to see so many people turn up to a race, eager, ready, only to be prevented from finishing due to forces out with their control.

NUE podium: Kathleen Harding, Cheryl Sornson, Vicki Barclay (Photo: John Tikla for Cycling News)

The race could be amazing if they drastically improved their course markings (read: actually have course markings!). The scenery was stunning: a huge waterfall, mountain top lake with scarp rock we rode across, fun singletrack. But all those positives were completely marred by poor race management and guidance.

So what’s next? Well, after 6 straight weekends of non-stop racing, I am looking forward to a weekend off before TSE starts. The Stan’s NoTubes crew (Cindy, Rich, Richie, Mike, Sue, myself etc.) will be at Dirt Fest this weekend, so you should definitely stop by and chat to our lovely folks and test some wheels (May 17-19 at Raystown Lake ). Sarah and Amanda will be arriving next Tuesday, so they can get used to the sweaty rocks of PA before TSE! See you all out there!

Whiskey 50 – Died a 1000 times

Now I know – no matter how hard you train and prepare for a race, it means zip if you can’t ride at altitude. Altitude? Yes, I was in shock too! How did I manage in my race preparations to neglect to look at elevation of Prescott, AZ, the starting town of the Whiskey 50! Of course, right now I want to bury my entire body in the sand and hide from my almost DFL placement, you know, one of those races when you wish Cycling News didn’t exist. But friends/teammates have suggested I share my troubles, so that other people don’t make the same mistake I did, and be ill prepared for the rough ride at Lady Elevation.

My racing and training had been going well the week’s prior to the race.

There had been lots of this (Greenbriar Maryland State Champs)

And this (Michaux, photo Zack Adams)

And this (Greenbriar podium)

 I arrived in Prescott on Thursday, met my wonderful team, roomed with Mrs Carey, enjoyed some podium leg time, and pre-riding with Mical and Nina. Prescott is a well cool town, hosting the biggest mountain bike festival I have ever seen.

Nina, me, Mical, Stan's! 

Friday evening was the fat tire crit. Amanda had warned me that I shouldn’t go too hard at the beginning of either the crit or the 50 milers since we were at altitude. Altitude?! I have to admit, inside I was thinking, I am going to be totally fine with altitude, I’m pretty tough, how bad can it be? Plus, I thought the crit course suited me, as it basically consisted of 2 really tough climbs and a hair-raising, ripping descent (no power flats). Nina charged up the first climb, we all followed and I was feeling pretty good the first 2 laps. Then BOOM. I felt like someone was holding elastic bands round my arms and legs, restricting blood flow. I think I saw a few planets and stars, I crawled up the climbs for a few more laps and went from top to bottom of the field in a few seconds.

Nina killing it in the Whiskey. Me feeling good at this point

The rest of the girls did awesome, so recovering from hypoxia I cheered their feats. It was a good wake-up call, I had to moderate my efforts on Sunday. Friday evening, whatever pollen was in the air in AZ started to really aggravate my allergies, I had crackly lung, a horrid cough and a slightly bleeding nose. I still didn’t panic as I had at least 24 hours to take anti-histamines and rest before the 50.

Sunday morning greeted us with pleasant temps that were set to rise and rise all day. Fortunately, the pro women’s field was led by the motto almost the entire way up the first 4 - mile climb. It was perfect, there were no surges and I could control my heart rate. At the very top of the pavement there were 2 steep pitches before we hit the dirt. I literally tried a little harder than on the gradual climb when BOOM my heart rate shot up to 192! The feelings of restriction across my whole body came back. I felt like no blood and oxygen were feeding my muscles. We were 5 miles in! I drifted further and further back. Sonya Looney tried to encourage me “hup hup Vicki”. No use. Other ladies passed me and commented on how thin the air was getting. Psychologically that probably put me in an even worse place! I crawled onto the singletack, barely turning the pedals, still at HR 192. Shannon caught me; I was pedaling in squares. If I had taken my glasses off I am sure I would have been cross-eyed.

Passing Dave McElwaine (photo) telling him I couldn't breathe

Of course I wanted to quit. Not because I was last, but because I didn’t think I was actually going to be able to make it to the end!

The descent into Skull Valley revived me a bit, because I got to see how awesome the rest of the field were doing coming back up the 12 mile climb. Bike racing is such a wonderful experience, you are competitive to the core, but the support the women have for one another is phenomenal. 

By the bottom of Skull Valley I had practiced my bail out speech (including my resignation speech to the team). But when I got there, and was greeted by the most amazing support from Kenny, Chris, and the NoTubes Master’s Team, there was no way I was giving up. They had a their system of water- bottle- handing-ice down-our- backs, dialed. Aaagh, relief. After that, it was just me and the Arizona dessert. How do people live here, (?) I thought as I wheezed my way up the 12 - mile climb. Then the cramps greeted me. Oh the cramps! After 1.5 hours of climbing on exposed desert roads, I finally made it to the turn into the singletrack. I tried to put in an effort, but the whole right side of my body cramped. A lovely wee mountain rescue man tried to help but of course there was nothing he could do (except comment on the state of my calf!). My body was not enjoying this experience at all.

I crawled to the finish line (and had a little sprint (hahaha a sprint!) with Bryna Blanchford, who had worried that she was going the wrong way and turned back up the hill.

If death appears, she will look like this (photo Kenny Wehn)

The rest of the team did amazing with both Mical and Nina in the top 10! I was so proud to be a part of their awesomeness, and trying not to wallow in self-pity. I still had some major allergies going on, relentless sneezing. Boy was I happy to see the low altitude, wet, greenness of PA when I got back.

I am glad that I did the Whiskey 50, if nothing it made me realize that I could not do Leadville 100 without some serious time at altitude acclimatizing (which is kind of difficult with a full-time job). I would highly recommend that anyone else who is considering making a big trip to do a big race take the same precaution. Yes, I know you all know that, but I thought I knew that too! Unfortunately, there’s no escaping your natural physiology, no matter how fit you are, or what you believe in your head.

As always, thanks to the support from all our wonderful sponsors and support crew!

British Cross Country Race 1

It’s always easier to write about the good races than the bad. But I feel it is important to identify why things have gone wrong, and learn from them, so that you can develop as a bike racer. Also, the effort it took from so many different people to actually get me to the first race of the British cross country series was huge, and I want all those people to be recognized and thanked.

Riding from near my parents house before the snow hit, again

Prior to the race I had spent the best part of 10 days: in London getting a new USA visa; attending countless meetings to arrange our wedding (which was actually really enjoyable, though time consuming); attending my hen party; while also trying to squeeze in as many training rides as possible in my frigid, wind swept, darling Scotland. The word I use to describe riding in Scotland is gritty, in all senses of the word. On top of that, I probably consumed my weight in cups of tea; tea always seems to taste better back home.

Even back in my 26 inch wheel days, I rode Stan's (bike I use while visiting parents)

Snowy Scottish singletrack

England was being hit by the coldest winter (or technically spring?) they have experienced in 50 years. The days leading up to the race meant that the course was being hammered with snow (that’s right north east American’s, northern Europe is also being plagued with eternal Narnia!). Whether the Sunday’s race was actually  going to go ahead was unclear; Saturday’s races were cancelled, but the organizers were holding out until the last minute to decide on the rest of the weekend races.

I had prepped the best I could for the race, so was keen to make the journey south in the hopes of racing. Queue lesson number 1: I had brought a pair of pedals from the US to use on an old bike that I store at my parents house. I couldn’t get left the pedal off and asked my dad if he could help while I packed up my stuff. “Turn it left to get it off”, I instructed. Dad struggled too, so gave the pedal a good smack with a hammer. Long story short, the pedal was well and truly welded to the crank. What’s the lesson? Always carry a spare pair of pedals when possible! I decided not to panic, however, as I had an old pair of shoes and pedals at my parents. Not ideal, and not what a sponsored rider should do, but I had little choice.

Mum, sister Claire and niece Georgia

Dinner out with family

So after an emotional farewell to my beloved family, I set off on an early Saturday train to England (I appreciate UK public transport so much more after living in the USA). I stayed with my friend Will in a small village about 25 miles south of the race. My bike had been safely delivered in a nifty bike box supplied by Bike Flights.

Bike flights delivery, very compact box by Serfas

When I woke early on Sunday, another 3 inches of snow had fallen. This was going to make for tricky driving conditions in a small Corsa car, with skinny tires and unplowed icy roads. After some slipping and sliding for an hour and a half, I made it to the venue, and headed down to some of the tents, as I needed some help with the poplock for my shock. 

Race Venue!

Not the best snow car, but it got me there!

The guys at WXC World Racing were the only tent open, and were really kind at helping me out; they let me shelter under their tent while they sourced someone to help with my poplock. Queue lesson number 2: The guys told me to keep warm, and had a generator sized heater blowing hot air on me. After my poplock was fixed, and a quick warm up, it was time to race. At the start line the ground was muddy ice. I made sure I could clip in, left and right. Right clipped in, but left wouldn’t. There was nobody I could shout to for an ice axe, so I knew I was going to be in trouble. What's the lesson? Never stand in front of a heater on a cold day; your cleats will freeze and clog with ice as soon as you step back on snow!

Evidence I actually raced (but you can tell how unimpressed I am!). Photo: Andy Whitehouse for British Cycling

Ice-caked frozen pedal

The start was chaos, although I was sitting in about 5^th entering single track, despite not being able to 

get my left foot clipped in. Someone crashed in front of me, and I ended up having to put my right foot down. Race over: both my cleats were frozen solid and I couldn’t clip in. After a lap I knew it was pointless to go on, as my legs were like bamby on ice trying to find any place on my pedals were I could actually turn the cranks. I hate having to quit, and this is only my second time since starting racing; the other time was when my back seized up during the Shenandoah in 2011. It crossed my mind that maybe I should just give up on bike racing, and focus on running or something. That lasted about 10 seconds when I remembered how boring running can be, compared to tearing down a trail on your mountain bike!

At least I got to hang out with this chap, who even made me flapjacks for the journey back to USA

I spoke to Shannon briefly and explained my sorrows; I was feeling terribly guilty at making such a mistake, when we have a great sponsor in Crank Brother pedals (which I know would not have clogged up the way my SPD’s did). I was grateful for her support on the matter, that we all suffer mishaps, and to move onward. It makes me really appreciate the strong support I have on the Stan’s Team. Women have a tendency to worry about things more than men, and it’s good to have women to talk to!

So thanks go out to: Rich for packing and sending my bike to the UK after I left, Will Chadwick for the endless cups of tea, flapjacks, and a cosy house to stay in, Bike Flights for the timely shipment and super cool bike case, and of course the support of Stan’s NoTubes Elite Women’s Team. What’s the final lesson? Despite the outcome, be grateful for what you have, and use it to learn from and build on for success at future races. Thanks for reading!