…I wrote this a day or two before the event:
“...so, I'm
off to ride a mountain bike 400 miles. ...379 actual miles but you know how
they do.I'm excited. I'm scared. I saw my first mtn lion on main divide last week (little guy, just north of Eagle, more scared than I was). He reminded me of the fact that shit happens in nature. Nice guys die of hypothermia @ Santiago peak due to bad decisions. Shit happens. ...I know, ..dramatic. Sorry.
Stuff like this crosses the mind when Im this fired up and excited about something, but apprehensive because of the selfish personal investment my soon-to-be 48 year old self is making….”
Stagecoach
400, 2014
“Its about to
get Western!” That’s what the Stagecoach
guys say when youre about to go to a place where no normal person would take a
bike. ...Or, it might describe conditions that a person should not consider
necessarily safe. It might be 100 miles
from civilization, or it might be into endless miles of sand, 8” deep. It might be on a trail (?) through a willowed
marsh, treading in 6” of muck and water, …or it might be 10 miles of crushing
climb to reach a summit, only to discover with a look to the horizon that the
climb isn’t even close to being finished. …”Western”.
Though those
moments are painful, maybe the most painful thought that occasionally creeps
into your mind is ‘Ive got x hundred more miles of this shit!’. For that reason, I cant imagine wanting to do
an event like this alone. The mind-fu%k
factor would weigh too heavy. This is
the kind of event where you ("I") need the relief of great partners in
crime. I attribute successfully
completing this race to those partners, Pat Hurter and Mark Owens. I heard more sore-ass jokes over the past 4
days than I will ever hear again. In
fact, things got so deranged that sore-ass exhibtions were only a request
away…lol. Pat’s tenacity and
hyper-outgoing personality was refreshing during the worst of times, ..and
Mark’s aggravated sense of humor always kept me chuckling. These men are champions. I just want them both to know how highly I
think of them and how much I respect what they accomplished during these 4
days.
Pic by Mary Metcalf Collier
The
weatherman says its gonna be nice! Not
too hot during the day, and not too cold at night. Nice!!
I show up at the meeting in flip-flops and its snowing outside.
This cannot be a good sign even though Brendan Collier, the event’s organizer,
says that it is. I make a quick
assessment of the hard-core’s standing around listening and surmise that I
might be way outta my league here.
Standing over there is Marshall Bird from CO, whos done the Tour
divide. Mary Metcalf Collier, another
divide killer, is taking pics while Guy Sutton is looking at some cue sheet info. Pat leans into me and says, “you know, …it’s
a little intimidating in here”.
Yup! After getting introduced to
our rented spot-trackers and receiving some pertinent course-related
information, you start to get the impression that not only are these athletes
physically strong, but also that they are mentally adept at making bad
situations work in this gun-slinger event.
…Suggestions of “work-arounds” and on-the-fly route adjustments make
clear that when they use the term “un-supported”, they aren’t messing around. …”Western”
We head down
the hill from Idy at 6:30 AM in cold so biting that guys were saying the water
in their camel backs was getting slushy in the hose. Earlier, In my morning frenzy to get ready, I
screwed up and spilled water from my reservoir onto my gloves. That mistake would come back to hurt in ways
that only nekked eskimos could understand.
We head over
Thomas mountain towards Coyote Canyon in better spirits. The sun was coming up and its warmth was
giving new life. Moods lifted, and we
became excitied about what was to come.
During my
research/education/consideration of the Stage coach, I met a man online from Mission
Viejo named Gerry Lattimer. He had been
very helpful with information leading up to the event, and had turned into a
ride partner that would last until the very last day. Gerry was a great navigator as well as a
great source of information (since he had successfully done this event twice
before). He also gravitated naturally
toward our sometimes crass humor, so he was comfortable company. ..So, now there was four of us.
Mark took one
for the team that day and used up all of the group’s flat tire bad mojo. He had four flats before Borrego. Thankfully, Desert Dan and his mobile bike
shop was there in Borrego Springs to get him hooked up with new tubes and a fresh
rim strip (the cause of his tire mayhem), because the spare tube supply was
becoming depleted quickly. We never had
another tire issue after that.
Mr. Gerry Lattimer aka Yoda
His last flat
occurred after a section of the route called ‘the willows’. It’s a swamp.
Imagine being an infantryman treading through the dankest jungle of 1968
Vietnam, …with a mountainbike The route
traversed a ditch full of water, and weeds.
You couldn’t see out because the surrounding vegetation was too
tall. Malaria and typhoid fever was
thick in the air. Pat warned that we
should probably keep our eyes open for punji sticks and booby traps. ….Ok, maybe it wasn’t quite THAT bad, but It
was moments like these I was glad Gerry was with us navigating, because I would
NEVER have assumed that this was part of the route.
Yes, that's a trail. ...and believe it or not, ..probably the good part.
Pat doing some serious damage on a Borrego Springs Boorita!
We ended up crashing out at around 10:30 the first night....
Day One—Approx. 100 miles
Day Two
We woke up in
the desert and headed for our first refuel in Agua Caliente. Mark, a very nice man (and owner of the
store), was there to hook us up with water, and cheap freezer food. Apparently the “racers” had taken the good
stuff before we got there, but it wasn’t bad.
I was still stocked up on Perpetuem
and some items that I had brought, so food wasn’t an issue yet (that was
to come). We jumped on some asphalt for
a while and rode to the next destination,
Oriflame. …the infamous Oriflame Yeah
lol, ..that sucked. I love climbing. I really do. That sucked. Nothing like trying to negotiate a 40+ pound,
gear-laden bike over a rocky shit trail with NO line. There was definitely some walking involved
there. I might enjoy trying it again
with a light bike and fresh legs, ..but then again, I might not. After
that was Mason Valley Truck Trail, which was MY kinda climbing. It kinda reminded me of Eagle in the SA’s a
bit.
We arrive at
Noble to no water. This could have been
bad as we were all low. Apparently
someone had wrecked the valve to the pump and it wasn’t working. Fortunately it was manually fixable, and
everything worked out but this was the kind of “self support” stuff that could
have been very problematic. It was a
reminder that you always had to be prepared for what might not go according to
plan. ….One of many learning experiences
on this trip.
The downhill
stuff at Noble was an absolute blast, ..the climb up Indian Creek though was
another rocky tough one. It wasn’t
Oriflame by any means, but in our tired states, it was a grind. Once you pass the Indian Creek area and jump
on East Mesa Fire road it was spectacular views of lush, deer-filled meadows
and a fast fire road down toward Descanso.
I will carry
two great memories of Descanso. One was
the delicious food and very nice people at Veronica’s resteraunt, and two..
..the fact that there were people that knew of the event we were doing and
giving us fist-pumps of encouragement as they drove by in there pick-ups. Really cool and encouraging.
We decided to
go for Alpine at that point due to a hotel that Gerry knew about. It was a hit!! A hot shower, ..a comfortable bed, ….and a
delicious complimentary, all-you-can-eat breakfast!! I ate 6 biscuits with gravy, French toast,
and slammed a couple of glasses of OJ, ….and still filled my pockets w/ fruit
and a sausage and egg bagel for the trip.
…..WIN!! The place is called the
Ayres Hotel in Alpine, and I recommend it highly.
Day 2—Approx
75 miles
Day 3
We left
Alpine at a comfortable 8:30 or so. With
full bellies, and a yearning for a downhill trending ride to the coast, we made
some fairly fast miles. There were lots
of views and quite a bit of asphalt. I
shared my distaste for riding in the dangerous world of texting drivers with
the guys and was empathetically giggled at. ..lol. Mark and Pat became a touch agitated with the
stereotypical roadies that would ride by without a hello. I concur.
Roadies, if someone gives you a nod, ..it aint too much trouble to nod
back, is it? We were passed later by a
snotty ‘Pro’ wearing what appeared to be short ‘women’s’ lycra shorts and felt
a bit justified…lol. 
The City. Well, it was St. Patty’s day weekend and things were bustling. Dealing with the traffic became a bit frustrating, and the route around Sea world (although great on a map) didn’t seem to be the most intuitive way outta Dodge. Gerry and Pat were navigating and did a great job of getting us out. From there it was up right through the UCSD campus and on to Torrey Pines. Pat and I decided to follow the route verbatim even though it was through an area designated ‘no bikes’. After doing it, I understand fully why the infraction was worth including. It took us right by the USGA course and some incredible views of the ocean.
After all of
that it was time to get east. I had
brought up the suggestion of making it in 4 days. We were getting gassed, but the idea was
appealing. Pat loved the challenge and
Mark dug getting an extra day off work, …so we surmised that the only way to make
that a possibility was to make it to Escondido.
This would be, for me, my toughest day.
We headed NE and hit the Penasquitos trails (which were very cool, btw),
and from there headed for Black Mountain.
That felt never ending. I had
ridden the Black Mountain area during Racers and Chasers events, and always
assumed that a familiar trail was right around the corner. It didn’t show itself for a long time. By the time we hit Lake Hodges, we were
exhausted. For me the combination of
riding through the city, the single track, and the mileage we were putting in
was mentally burning me down. Pat took
a spill in the hodges single tracks that fortunately wasn’t as bad as it could
have been. I felt like I was in a daze
throughout that whole trail system. I
wasn’t travelling fast but I felt like I was riding beyond my means to ‘get
there’. ..Lucky for me, ..I got lucky.
We arrived in
Escondido at around 11 pm. I felt beaten.
On this trip, that would have been my low, I think. I felt a little sick, and was hoping it would
disappear with some sleep. We found a
cheap hotel and crashed hard. The plan
was to be up at 6, ready to roll.
Day 3—112
miles
Day 4, 6 AM. ...um, yeah.. ..Ive looked better.
Day 4
Im scrambling to get my shit/brains/wits together and Gerry comes to our hotel room door. He’s standing there in his gear, ready to go and says… “…I might have a little problem.” “What?”, I ask. “I almost shit myself in the bed last night”. I wanted to laugh like hell, but I could tell he was very serious and quite concerned. Pat, who was rooming with him confirmed. Apparently one of the gas station burritos we had gotten a hold of the day before wasn't cooperating. At least I wasn’t the only one that this pain-fest was having a physical effect on. Gerry took off on route to see if things would straighten out (they did), and we went to starbucks to …..straighten out (and we did..lol).
Pat's finish line
Im scrambling to get my shit/brains/wits together and Gerry comes to our hotel room door. He’s standing there in his gear, ready to go and says… “…I might have a little problem.” “What?”, I ask. “I almost shit myself in the bed last night”. I wanted to laugh like hell, but I could tell he was very serious and quite concerned. Pat, who was rooming with him confirmed. Apparently one of the gas station burritos we had gotten a hold of the day before wasn't cooperating. At least I wasn’t the only one that this pain-fest was having a physical effect on. Gerry took off on route to see if things would straighten out (they did), and we went to starbucks to …..straighten out (and we did..lol).
Mark and Pat climbing Black Canyon rd.
We knew we
had 100 miles left. What I didn’t know
was that it was believed that there was 13000’ of climbing in that 100
miles. “You love climbing?...well, here
ya go motherf#$#r!!!”, I thought to myself. I didn’t feel too bad, all things
considered. The nights sleep had brought
my head back around, and I still had no
issues with my knees. That would have
been a game changer for me. We packed full
of food and headed for Raptor ridge.
After getting through the “Freedom 50” area, we spent some time on the
78 connecting to the next singletrack.
I DID NOT like this. There was no
shoulder, and plenty of assholes. I was
out of my element and very uncomfortable everytime I heard a car
approaching. Fortunately, it was only
for a few miles til we jumped some single track, passed some beautiful
turkey-filled meadows and headed for Black Canyon road. Now the real climbing began. We traversed a lot of fireroad that felt like
the Santa Ana’s to me. ..A lot of
relentless, long climbing. During this
time I realized that the batteries in my track spotter were going dead and I
freaked a little because I had no aaa replacements. We had about 8-10 miles to the 76 freeway,
and I hit it hard in hopes of making it to the Lake Henshaw store, 1.8 miles
off course, and back without making Pat and Mark wait. It worked out. I would realize later that I should have
taken that opportunity to load up on food, because that was it until Anza.
When we
arrived in Warner Springs we talked more about the 4 day plan. Pat was super cool, as always, and said go
ahead. He was riding very strong but had
some course knowledge of what was coming, I think. He wanted to take 5 and regroup. So, Mark and I headed out with intentions on
meeting him in Anza.
……….then, it
got western.
I had made
some off the cuff mileage calculations based on the cue sheets that were
off. Mark and I hammered up the asphalt
that Pat compared to that at the East end of Palomar divide (an accurate
comparison). It was 11 miles or so of
fairly steep climbing. When we got to
the top, Mark’s seat-post mounted rack (which had cracked earlier)
snapped. He told me to run for the 4 day
finish, and he would wait there for Pat.
…I have great friends, thanks again Mark. It was
4:10, and I had to make it to Sunrise market in Anza by 6, or I wouldn’t make the 25 additional miles of climbing to Idy. I was out of food and noots. I pointed my bike northward and
hammered. The trail turned to dirt, and
it was tough climbing, ..rutted and gnarly.
By the time I could see a road ahead, I figured I was getting close, but
I got to it only to discover it was Chihuahua Valley. I was still 14 miles out. I screwed up and I wasn’t going to make
it. Pissed and starting to bonk, I
hammered on through what was the worst climbing for me during the whole
trip. There were relentless false
summits, and steep grades. For the first
time in the trip, …and probably due to a lack of nutrition, my legs were
starting to hurt. In the distance a
while later, I saw a rider ahead working on his bike. His name is Brandan. He came out for the event from LA. I stopped to check on him and he told me that
he called sunrise market and that they were going to stay open til 7 for the
riders out there. I was going to make
it. I hammered the last 7 miies to the market
and got a sandwich, a burrito, a block of cheese, a rock star, a coke, and a
candy bar… ..and sat down for a break.
When we
started the event, we descended a trail off of Thomas mtn. that we knew would be a hike on the way
out. I felt strong again and beat
through it. It was late, and I was
tired, but I knew that with a full belly I was now good. After getting over the mountain, it was just
all about that loooooong road climb. I
arrived at the Hub at 10:27 PM to a glorious ticker-tape parade, dozens of
trophy girls, and spewing bottles of champagne. …yeah, ….no.
The shop was closed and dark, and there was a sign-in sheet and half cooler full of beers at the door. Other than Brandon, who passed me earlier as
I was refueling in Anza, I was the only
one around in that dark little town. …Just me, …and that wonderful feeling that
I had just accomplished something monumental in my life.
Day 4—100
miles
Gerry would
arrive about an hour after me, and my brothers Pat and Mark would ride in the
next morning. I watched them climb the
trackspotter to Idy the next morning and new exactly what they would be
feeling.
The
Stagecoach is an interesting event in that it showcases all of the wonderful
aspects of southern CA. Desert, city,
beach, and mountains are all part of the experience. I enourage any serious mtb'r to strive for this goal....
...It was an adventure with great friends that
ill never forget.
392 miles
31,000' of ascent/climbing
3 days 16 hours 27 minutes
