Be Careful What You Wish For

post by Corrine.  

Eric looked at me quizzically, wondering if I was serious.

I had just asked him, “What do you think about me not doing the race and us just going on a vacation?” 

It was just a few weeks before our planned trip to Arkansas, where I was entered in the Arkansas High Country Bikepack Race. I had been talking about the race for a couple of years and had been getting in a good amount of riding. But I wasn’t sure my head was in the race. I had done only two overnight trips in preparation. And my excitement about the race had waned.

The race would require at least 10 long days of riding on a fully loaded bike over 1,000 hilly miles – more than 70,000 feet of climbing. But I had been feeling more tired than I felt I should be. Was it physical or mental? I’d been in a funk for the last few months and had spent way too much time watching other people having adventures on YouTube instead of being out on my own.

I spent a lot of time wondering why I was feeling so down. Was it work burnout? Was it a summer of less-than-ideal weather? Do I not want to suffer as much as I get older? Maybe I just needed a couple of weeks of doing nothing. Or is it something deeper? Am I losing my identity?

I am retiring in less than five months. And while I’m looking forward to giving up the 12-hour days and the stress of taking care of my patients, much of my identity for the last 35-plus years has been being a doctor. A strong part of my identity has also been as an endurance athlete, and those days are numbered. Could that be weighing on me, too? Who am I if I’m not a doctor and an endurance athlete?

Of course, I’m more than that. Among other things, I’m also a mom, a wife, a quilter, and an insatiable reader. But the subconscious mind is not always rational. Maybe my upcoming life changes are more unsettling than my rational conscious mind is willing to accept.

Part of me still wants to do endurance bike racing. I love riding my bike and seeing new places. And I love seeing what I’m capable of doing. I find that pushing my limits helps build resilience in my life, not just in sport. I also love the people who do these races – they are my tribe. We get each other. We don’t have to explain why we do what we do. We share a passion for being physically active for ridiculous amounts of time in the outdoors. I have made some amazing friendships doing bikepack races. I will miss that when I quit.

Selfie with Chuck, the race director of the Arkansas High Country Race- another crazy biker

Despite my mental state, I was still signed up for the Arkansas High Country. I had time off work, and we had all the necessary reservations. I decided I would take things one day at a time. Eric was coming on the trip, so he could rescue me if I dropped out.

Perfect Conditions?

A few weeks before the race, I asked Eric what he thought the chances of good weather for the entire race were. We both figured the chances were close to zero. I had already decided that I wasn’t starting the race if the forecast was for several days of rain. It would be a good excuse to not do the race. But as the race got closer, the weather forecasts for the first week of the race were looking really good: No rain, highs in the mid 80s F, lows around 50, and low humidity for Arkansas. The temperature the first couple of days might reach 90F, but otherwise the forecast couldn’t have been more perfect. I should have been ecstatic, but instead I felt resigned to just start the race and see how it went. Where was my enthusiasm? 

This year the race started in Russellville. The pre-race meeting was fun. I got to meet several bikepackers including Meaghan Hackinen. I had been following her for several years since she won the BC Epic 1000 bikepack race in 2021, setting a new women’s FKT (fastest known time). She also won the Tour Divide this year and almost beat Lael Wilcox’s record.  Besides being an amazing racer, she is a phenomenal writer. I highly recommend her books. Check out her latest, Shifting Gears: Coast to Coast on the Trans Am Bike Race, about her first bikepack race across America.

Meaghan is on the right and Kayla, another bikepacker I met, is in the middle

I also met the oldest male doing the race, Chuck Lee, who is 74. We laughed about being the slow, old ones out there and having the same initials, which might confuse people watching the race on Trackleaders! But we were doing the race in opposite directions (you can do it either clockwise or counterclockwise) so we wouldn’t get to ride together. He has done many long distance bike races and we realized we are both doing the Bike NonStop US bike race next summer. (I haven’t totally given up on endurance bikepack racing yet!)

Chuck and me at the pre-race meeting

The race has several iterations. This year you could choose between three different distances around different loops and choose to go either direction. The race started at 7 AM Saturday morning with over 60 of us lining up for the start, with just 18 doing the full 1,000-mile race. It was a perfect day, and I was able to ride with Meaghan for a couple of miles during the neutral start before she and everybody else surged ahead. Soon, I was left alone at the back of the pack. I was still not gung-ho about the race, but I was feeling better. I love being out riding my bike in new beautiful places. 

Meaghan and I ride together for a few minutes.  She went on to be the overall winner of the race setting a new women's FKT (fastest known time) also!

The first 30 miles were mostly flat. The route followed a paved road along Lake Dardanelle before hitting some rolling gravel roads. We had plenty of shade and minimal traffic. I felt good but was still having misgivings. I remember thinking (and possibly wishing) that maybe I would get a mechanical and would be forced to quit. But then I decided I didn’t want that. 

Lake Dardanelle

Be Careful. . .

Next was a long climb up to Mount Magazine, the highest point in the race and in Arkansas. The climb wasn’t difficult. It was on pavement with a consistent 6 percent grade and plenty of shade. I was making good time and knew I would be on top around lunchtime. The race has several places where you must get a selfie and post it to Instagram. Mount Magazine was the first selfie spot, so I decided that would be my first rest stop of the day.

Selfie at Mount Magazine

But about three miles from the top, my chain started making noise. It sounded like it was rubbing on something. But I hadn’t changed gears. I hadn’t stood up and cranked harder. I hadn’t done anything different. I had just been pedaling at an even cadence when it started making noise. I stopped briefly but couldn’t find anything wrong, so I kept going. The noise continued. I tried changing gears but that didn’t fix the problem. Was my chain rubbing on the front derailleur? I stopped again but couldn’t find the problem. My shifters were working smoothly. Could it be my bottom bracket? I’m such an idiot when it comes to bike mechanicals. I took a class several years ago but have pretty much forgotten everything I learned. I tend to trust my bike mechanic to keep my bike running smoothly. I had no cell service so couldn’t call for help. I just kept riding.

A little later I got to the Mount Magazine State Park Visitor Center, which had WIFI. I texted Eric telling him that I had a mechanical and might need help. I flipped my bike upside down but still couldn’t figure out what the problem was. I chastised myself again for not being more mechanically inclined. I thought of messing with the front derailleur screws, but I was too worried about making things worse. I texted Eric again that I was going to need him to come get me. I told him to meet me at the lodge (1.5 miles off course) where I could get lunch while waiting for him. I was frustrated that I had a mechanical after only 50 miles, but surprisingly I wasn’t feeling too disappointed. Still, I would be totally embarrassed if it was something that I should have been able to fix, so I kind of hoped it would be something major.

View from the Mount Magazine lodge

I had a nice lunch and enjoyed the view and mulled over my options while I waited for Eric. Maybe I could get the bike fixed and have Eric take me back to Mount Magazine to continue, but I wasn’t excited about that idea, and I wouldn’t finish in time to be an official finisher. I could get my bike fixed and do the shorter 450-mile Central Loop as an Individual Time Trial. That sounded more appealing. I texted with the race director, and he said I could do either one. 

Eric finally replied. He had just finished his own fun mountain biking adventure at Mount Nebo State Park. So, he drove over to Mount Magazine. Right away he asked me how I was feeling. I had a slight emotional hitch, but then I was fine. No tears. My head was really not into this race.

Eric to the rescue. Here here is on top of Mount Nebo before getting my text

Eric is more mechanically inclined than I am, but he’s not an expert bike mechanic. Rather than have him look at my bike, we decided to head back to Jackalope Cycling in Russellville and have them look at it. We needed to leave right away to get back before the shop closed. As it was, we made it back to Jackalope Cycling with only 20 minutes to spare.

The mechanic there took a few minutes to diagnose the problem: a seized-up wheel pulley on the back derailleur. It was old and the bearings were shot. The other pulley was really worn, too. It was not something I could have fixed in the field (whew). Unfortunately, they didn’t have replacements, but he loosened it, and it seemed to work fine.

Worn out wheel pulley

Back On the Road – Sort Of

I decided to bike the two miles back to our hotel while Eric drove the minivan. It’s a good think I did. Less than half a mile from the shop, the wheel pulley seized up again. That made the decision for me. My race was over after barely starting. Surprisingly, I was only mildly disappointed. Maybe that says something about where I’m at with long distance races? 

Eric had a several-day Airbnb reservation in Bentonville, a hotspot for mountain biking, so we headed there the next day (with a stop to do a short hike out to Hawksbill Crag). The town has several bike shops, and I was able to get my bike fixed. We spent three wonderful days there, exploring the trails. I even got to ride the course of the 100-mile Big Sugar Classic gravel bike race, which will be held October 19.

While in Bentonville, we reassessed our vacation and ultimately decided to head to New Mexico to visit our son Riley and his wife Sam in Albuquerque, exploring a bit of Oklahoma on the way. But I’ll write more about that later. As I write this, we’re still on that adventure. If all had gone as originally planned, I’d still be slogging it out in the Arkansas High Country, feeling exhausted. I am not at all sorry at how things turned out.

Biking to the Balloon Fiesta to watch the dawn balloon ascension with Riley and Sam

Next summer I still plan to do the Bike NonStop US bike race, a 3,500-mile bikepacking race across the continental United States. And I’m still excited about doing it, so I guess I haven’t completely burned out on endurance cycling races. 

After that, who knows? But by then I’ll be retired and maybe I’ll be more comfortable about what my new identity will be. In any case, Eric and I will still be having adventures and writing more blog posts. 

How Many Mishaps Can You Have In One Idaho Bike Trip?

Post by Corrine

Don’t vomit, don’t vomit, don’t vomit.

I told myself that as I was just a tenth of a mile from the top of the climb and end of the race. 

I had been feeling lightheaded and nauseated for the last mile, but I was so close to the finish. I dry heaved as I biked around the last corner, but as I approached then crossed the finish line, I managed a big smile while the volunteers and other racers cheered me on. 

Then I went off to the side and dry heaved a few more times. That’s not how I planned to finish the race. In fact, the whole race didn’t go as planned. The altitude affected me much more than I thought it would, slowing me down and making me feel ill. But at least I finished.

I finished!  But now to head down before I feel worse from the altitude!

It wasn’t the first time things didn’t go as planned on our trip to Idaho, where I competed in Rebecca’s Private Idaho stage race. And it wouldn’t be the last. 

Rebecca’s Private Idaho

Selfie with Rebecca Rusch, the Queen of Pain

Rebecca Rusch, the Queen of Pain, is an endurance athlete who promotes getting people to exercise outside. Twelve years ago, she started Rebecca’s Private Idaho (RPI), a bike race showcasing gravel riding around her hometown of Ketchum, while raising money for her Be Good Foundation. The race occurs over Labor Day weekend. RPI started as a one-day race/ride of varying distances but has grown into being a 4-day, 3-stage bike race along with plenty of other fun activities. Around 1,000 bikers showed up this year to do some or all the stages.

Start of this year's Baked Potato 100-mile race

I’d been interested in doing this race for a long time, and this year the timing worked out. I could use the RPI as a big training block for my upcoming Arkansas High Country Race and have fun riding in a new place. Eric isn’t interested in long gravel rides but was excited to mountain bike in a new area. And our friends, Barb and Tom, have a second home in Hailey which is only 10 miles away from Ketchum. They already had a bike adventure in another state planned during that time, but they were happy to let us stay at their place.

Day One: The Long Short Ride

On our first full day in Hailey, things didn’t quite go as planned. After Eric put my bike together, I couldn’t get into about half of my gears although the shifter seemed to be working fine. And I had no brakes. Even after several minutes of riding and pumping the brakes, they still didn’t work right. Luckily, I found a bike shop just a quarter mile from the house. And The Trailhead Bicycles was awesome! One of the owners, Andy, immediately looked at my bike, adjusted the cables, and bled my brakes. Less than 30 minutes later I was on my way. Disaster averted. Hopefully, the rest of the day would go smoothly. 

Andy from Trailhead Bicycles works on my bike

I wanted to do a little 10- to 15-mile shake-out ride before racing started the next morning. Eric, meanwhile, wanted to try some mountain bike trails just a few miles from the house. We biked out together to the trailhead, but I didn’t want to do anything taxing so decided not to do the single track with him. I thought about doing a boring out-and-back, but Eric showed me a smallish gravel lollypop loop on his Trail Forks app that I could do. Since I don’t have the app, I memorized the names of the roads. 

Eric and I bike out together

Well, I missed a turn. I kept thinking it was coming but eventually I thought I had gone too far. I checked Google Maps and, yes, I had somehow missed the turn. And I was quite a bit further south than I should have been. I could have turned around, but the way I had come was hilly and mostly gravel. I thought it would be quicker to bike south to Highway 20 then ride mostly flat pavement back. When I got good cell service, I might be able to call Eric for a ride.

Biking home via the highway

But when I called Eric, he was at the far end of the trail system, so I ended up biking back to the house. Instead of a 10- to 15-mile easy ride, I did a 35-mile ride! Whoops! That wasn’t what I had planned. I hoped it wouldn’t affect my legs too much for racing the next day. (In my defense, Tom said he made the same mistake the first time he tried that same loop!)

Day One: Broken Brakes

But our mishaps for the day weren’t over! When Eric was at the far end of the trail system, he realized his brakes were not releasing fully. He couldn’t figure out a fix, so he rode with them partially engaged. It wasn’t too bad on the descents, but it made the climbing harder. 

Back to the bike shop!

After we got home, Eric took his bike to The Trailhead Bicycles. Andy immediately recognized the problem as a known design flaw in the brake handle. He recommended new brakes and said they could replace them the next morning while I was at the race. Eric agreed. He had a lot of volunteer work to get done the next morning anyway. Another disaster averted. Thanks Trailhead!

Smoke Gets in Our Eyes

The unexpected 35-mile bike ride was not detrimental to my racing.

While things on the fire front were calm in Hailey and Ketchum, 60 miles north, near Stanley, wildfires were raging. Winds had been blowing the smoke in other directions, but right after we got there the winds started coming from the north. Wednesday, the day before the first race, the air quality in Hailey was pretty good, but just 10 miles north in Ketchum the air quality was a lot worse. The RPI directors had said if the air quality index (AQI) was over 175 on race day, that day’s race would be cancelled. Wednesday evening it was around 200. And the race, a 36-mile race on double- and single-track, headed north of Ketchum to where the smoke was even worse.

Early Thursday morning I checked and – Holy Cow! – the AQI in Ketchum was above 400 (considered hazardous for your health) and worse further north. An email confirmed that the first race had been cancelled. Definitely the right decision. The air quality was bad in Hailey, too. A good day to stay inside and read a book. 

The AQI moderated to just below 200 by evening, so Eric and I biked the easy, paved 12 miles from Hailey to Ketchum to a social barbecue put on by RPI. Other racers were also disappointed about the cancellation but agreed that safety came first. I went to bed feeling that Friday’s race would likely be cancelled, too.

Meeting other racers at the barbecue

Friday – Stage 2 is a Go!

Friday morning the AQI was right around 150-175. Rebecca made a last-minute decision that the race would go on. The air quality was improving, and it was better in the direction of the race, west up into the mountains. Still, I think many people decided against racing as only 70 people completed this stage. This race, stage 2, included a 20-mile relaxed ride to the start of the race, a 4.5-mile hill climb up Dollar Hide Pass, then 25 miles back. A longish 50-mile day, but only 4.5 miles of racing. 

The morning was cold at the start but warmed up as soon as the sun rose over the mountains. It was fun to ride the 20 miles out of town with others, but I was already feeling the elevation and knew I wouldn’t be able to push much harder during the race.

I made some new friends on the ride, including Colleen, a 46-year-old from Salt Lake City. She used to do Ironman triathlons but got out of shape during Covid. She has been getting back into shape and was now doing gravel races. This was her first time at RPI, too. 

Colleen and I at the end of the race

At 20 miles and 7100 feet elevation, we lined up again for the interval-start hill climb. We left at 30-second intervals. I immediately felt the altitude. I had no power and had to slow down not to redline. I got passed by many riders who started behind me, but there was nothing I could do. I barely had enough breath to say “good job” when they passed me. Fortunately, the air quality was better, and the climb up the canyon was pretty. The last mile I started feeling a little lightheaded and nauseated. And then a tenth of a mile from the last turn I started to gag and told myself “Don’t vomit!”

Lining up for the 4.5-mile interval start hill climb

Not feeling so good 1/2 mile from the top of the climb

Fortunately, I didn’t throw up although I did dry heave several times (mainly because my stomach was empty). And while I wanted to share in the success of the climb with the other finishers, I still felt lightheaded so decided it would be best to head down to a lower elevation. I immediately felt better as I descended and cheered on the few stragglers still coming up. Colleen and I met up on the way down and we rode back together, stopping for a soak in Frenchmen’s Bend Hot Springs, a fun addition to this stage. Many other riders had the same idea. We relaxed in the hot springs and talked about our race before riding the last 10 miles back to Ketchum.

Many bikers stopped to soak in the hot springs

So fun to soak in the hot springs and dunk in the cold creek, too.

In the race, I finished last out of 18 women. I’m usually a pretty good climber, but the altitude really affected me. I reminded myself that I was there mainly for training and to see new scenery. So, despite the altitude kicking my butt, it was a successful day!

More Bike Issues

Saturday was a rest day. Eric went out for a morning mountain bike ride on some more awesome nearby trails, then we headed back to Ketchum for the RPI bike expo and the Wagon Days Parade. We parked a couple of miles out of town to avoid the traffic congestion and biked to the festivities. However, I noticed that my right shifter was getting extremely difficult to push. What the heck? I’ve never had so many problems with my shifting. I had the final 100-mile Baked Potato stage the next day and I really wanted to do that race. 

So instead of watching the parade, Eric and I headed back to Hailey and to Trailhead. For the third time! Andy looked surprised to see me again. I explained the situation. Although it was 1:30 PM on Saturday and they closed at 4, he said they would look at my bike and see if they could figure it out. He really wanted to give me the chance to do the final stage. 

Andy shows me where the cable rubs against part of the frame

He thought the problem was with the bike’s design. It is an older bike with one of the first internal cable routings and not all the cable had housing. Over time dirt collects where the cable runs directly against the frame, creating friction. Andy did what he could to clean out that area and get the bike working. Thank you, Andy, and your team at Trailhead. You guys are the best!

The Baked Potato – A Tad Underbaked

Sunday morning arrived cold, but with good air quality and my bike was shifting adequately. I was ready for the 102-mile Baked Potato race, which has several time cutoffs. The cutoffs are a little tight for back-of-the-pack racers like me, but I thought I could make it. Eric dropped me off and then headed out for some mountain biking after my race started.

I was slow but steady on the 12-mile climb up to 8000 feet elevation on Trail Creek Road. I felt good and had no nausea or lightheadedness. Several friends shouted encouragement as they passed me. Once I was over the summit, I bombed down the other side thanks to my mountain bike with wider tires and flat handlebars. 

Friend, Steve Cannon, passes me on the first climb of the day

Official photo of me climbing up Trail Creek.  I was slow but happy!

The first aid station was a bit chaotic with people yelling and cheering, bikers going different ways, and volunteers yelling directions. I asked which way to go and was directed left. It seemed like some people were going right but others were coming back. I couldn’t remember the actual course but assumed the people coming back must be doing the shorter course. I felt good so kept pedaling and made the second aid station (which was also the first time cut-off) with over 30 minutes to spare. I thought that station was at 43 miles, but my bike computer said 34 miles. That was weird but maybe I was remembering wrong? 

Aid Station 2 - Rebecca Rusch and volunteers cheer us on 

I stopped briefly to refuel and get water at the aid station and then headed out on the Copper Basin Loop. I was back and forth with a lot of the riders. I was much slower on the climbs but faster on the flats. We seemed to have a headwind no matter what direction we were going. And the temperature was rising. It was hard, but I was still having fun. Two friends, Christina and, later, Steve, passed me from behind on this section telling me I was doing great. I thought that was weird as they had passed me on the first climb, but I just thought they must have taken longer breaks at the aid stations. It was fun to see them out on the course. I didn’t think any more about it and kept riding.

Getting passed on a climb by Meg Fischer, paralympic cyclist, and her entourage of women bikers

After finishing the loop, we were back on the same course that we had headed out on. We had more headwinds but also a slight descent most of the way back to aid station one, which was also the last aid station. I stopped with several riders there for another break. A volunteer said it was only 15 more miles to the El Diabolito turn, the next time cut-off, and that we had two hours to get there. No problem! Except somehow the mileage wasn’t adding up right when I checked my Garmin. I figured that somehow my Garmin must have malfunctioned when coming down the canyon. I couldn’t make sense of it any other way. And it didn’t really matter. I needed to get back on my bike.

I made up some more time and got to the El Diabolito turnoff with over 45 minutes to spare. No need to chase time cutoffs any more. This 6-mile section was a rough double track. It was no problem on my mountain bike although others on skinnier tires without front suspension weren’t quite as happy. It was a much nicer way to climb up toward the pass and was less dusty with no car traffic. It was my favorite part of the ride. 

Making the turn onto the El Diabolito section. These volunteers were the best

El Diabolito was my favorite part of the route

Once we got back to the road, it was several more miles of a slow grinding up to the pass on tired legs. But I knew that once I was over the pass, the road improved and it would be a fast descent to the finish.

And it was. Another woman passed me on the descent, it was fun to watch how smooth and fast she was. But once the road leveled out a bit, I noticed I was catching her. Enough so, that I turned on the power and rode as hard as I could for the final three miles, passing and then finishing before her in 8 hours and 45 minutes. Afterward, I thanked her for being my carrot. And I felt good that I had enough in me to go hard and race the last bit. 

The final sweet 12-mile descent back to Ketchum

The official finish was two miles from the start at Festival Meadow (to keep racers from sprinting into town where there was more car traffic.) After passing under the arch at Festival Meadow and hitting the gong to announce my finish, Christina and Steve both came up to congratulate me. And then Colleen came over to talk.

Hitting the gong at the end of my race

“I was worried about you,” she said. “I missed the first cut-off by 15 minutes, and I never saw you. What happened?”

“What do you mean?” I replied. “You passed me up the first climb going strong. Of course, you wouldn’t have seen me again. But how did you not make the cutoff? I made it with 30 minutes to spare.”

I was confused until she started talking about an out-and-back section. Then it dawned on me. I totally forgot there was an 8-mile out-and-back section that took off from the first aid station. I should have turned right there. But it was not clearly marked and when volunteers told me to go left, I did. So, I hadn’t done the out-and-back. Now everything made sense. No wonder my mileage was off. No wonder people who were ahead of me ended up behind me. I’m such an idiot! I did find out later that at least one other woman made the same mistake but figured it out two miles down the road and turned around for four bonus miles. (If you're on Strava, you can see the race route HERE.)

Ah well. I went to the timers and told them so that they could disqualify me. I don’t think I’ve ever been DQ’d from a race before. I was a bit bummed, especially after feeling so good after the race. 

Minor Mishaps Can’t Derail a Great Trip

But did my DQ really matter? I had come to Idaho to get in some good training. I also got to see new places and make new friends. Eric got to ride on some new trails and was happy. And except for the one smoky day, the weather was great. Despite all our misadventures, the trip was a great success!

I doubt I will be back for Rebecca’s Private Idaho, but who knows? It would be nice to be an official finisher. RPI is a well-organized event and a lot of fun. I highly recommend it to any gravel racers. But be sure to acclimate if you want to race and look closely at the route so you don’t miss an important turn!

And if not the race, there are plenty of other places in the area to explore. Eric’s description of the mountain bike trails made them sound like a lot of fun. I’m sure we’ll be back. But hopefully we won’t have to visit The Trailhead Bicycles so many times!