The Race Across America for Team ViaSat 2010 is over. What follows is my version of what happened on the road, it is written looking backward but the memories are fresh. Rather than wait for perfect literary form to materialize, if such a thing were to chance upon my words, and then edit my writing to pave a road which would properly transfer my experiences to your mind's eye, I'll take a short cut.
Your writer will simply begin the tale. I may, from time to time, revise and will surely mistake facts and possibly leave the reader with unintended impressions. For this, I apologize in advance and thank you for indulging the blunt prose incident to my approach.
Before we light the fires of war and begin our first day on the road in the Prologue and Battle, I will thank ViaSat, our sponsors and all those scores of families, crew and supporters who worked so hard and cheered us on. All they asked in return is that eight duty-bound riders fight, stomp, pummel, push and push some more to make 2010 RAAM something to be proud of. I believe the riders and crew answered that call.
This Tour of Terror does not materialize without our extended team, for this, we riders owe an un-repayable debt. Our faithful support team pushed, pulled, navigated and toiled the entire race. During this Epic Journey fraternal bonds were forged and lasting memories were seared into our minds. These tales are now a bottomless well upon which we can all draw pride, a sense of true community of effort and heart-felt laughs to the end of our days. When we find ourselves as old men, a passerby might wonder "why is that old coot aglow?" (and we might wonder if the passerby lived in like 1809 or something). You will know why. In fact, some guys on the team already get that reaction and frankly should really enjoy this experience because let's be real, the only people who say "60 is the new 40" are those who have seen more moons than the Hubble Telescope.
Prologue and Battle: METAL1
METAL1 is the name of both my working group and the vehicle we would use to deploy on our seven rides over the span of the 3000 mile race. I'm known as METAL as this name was given to me last year during RAAM, not sure who but it could have been Ken Larson. I am one of two riders in METAL1 and the other rider is Jeremy Gustin who I named Toro Agressivo for reasons which will be clear to you by the end. Our driver was Ed, my dad, who would assume this role for the second year in a row.METAL1 was placed into what is known as "First Rotation," there are four groups of two during the race. You race five hours and then have 15 hours to get 330 miles up the road, eat, sleep, clean up, and intercept the moving caravan that (at the moment you return to racing) is being driven by two exhausted mates at the end of their 5 hour pull. For us, this meant we would be relieving John Tyner (Tynee) and Brad Exmeyer (The Gorilla). Here is the team break down:
The Four sets of Racers and Their Drivers
Rotation1: (METAL1): Jeremy and Andrew, Ed Danly driver
Rotation2: (DH1): Ryan and Tobias, Dave Casterton driver
Rotation3: (No name...yet)Kevin and Larry, Austin Bice driver
Rotation4: (Heavy Something4): John and Brad, Matt Butler driver
So there you have the 8 riders and their four personal drivers. These self-contained cities operate independently and the persons listed here spend the ENTIRE race together. Total sausage fest, completely unacceptable and only tolerable (barely) while the race took place. I contend METAL1 was the most dialed in vehicle in the race but I'll let you decide for yourself.
Follow Vehicle and Navigation:
Chuck Pateros: Crew chief
Zack Waller: Crew and funniest guy on the road
Wei Sun: Crew and RAAM Poet Laureate
Izzy Sandoval: Crew and coolest man on earth, does not even have to try
Ron Grayson: Crew and owner of team mascot "Stanley" the tool-utilizing Macaw
ViaSat Media:
Michele Valenti from active.com
Desi Klarr a multiple Ironman finisher
I'll have more to say about each of these protagonists as we work our way across the country.
The race starts in Oceanside but METAL1 got great news the day before, we would get to skip the start and would simply take over at Old Castle road which is at the foot of a major climb and about 11 miles into the course. This meant, extra time in Point Loma (where Ed, I and Jeremy all live within 1/2 mile of each other) to prep METAL1, eat and rest before racing. I cannot say how much this little reprieve helped us on the road but we LEFT Point Loma around 2PM where last year I stood around Oceanside starving for hours. Huge improvement.
We were relaxed and having fun as we cruised I-15 north up to our race start. Tynee and Gorilla would Time Trial the first 11 miles together and it turns out they totally kicked ass. Team Type One had started three minutes in front of them and (I did not know at the time) they held that exact gap when they got to us.
Team Type I had posted up their rider, James Stout, at the same place as us. Once his mates arrived he took off up the hill. Three minutes later our boys came flying around the corner. I brought binoculars this year and this was a huge asset as sometimes cyclists look the same from long distances. That is everyone but the Gorilla. The big ape was fighting with his bike and charging up the the exchange point where Jeremy would take over for the next 7 miles of mostly climbing.
Team Type One left three minutes before Jeremy. The exchange was smooth and the Gorilla jumps off his bike and started jawing and doing what he does, that is, keep everybody entertained with his ebullient indefatigable spirit. In other words, my man won't shut up. No time to enjoy Brad's furry company it was time to jump in METAL1 and get ready for my first pull at the top of the hill.
I was to ride about 11 miles from "Harvest Farms Village" (which is some kind of mall-ish thing on the Plateau of Valley Center) to the foot of Palomar Mountain just past the Harrah's Rincon Casino, the right-turn stop sign at the Taco shop to be precise.
I grabbed my Time Trial (TT) bike and walked down the road a little so Jeremy could use his remaining speed after our exchange to just cruise to the truck and jump in. I walked past a Team Type One (TT1) guy who had every reason to believe his guy (James Stout with a three minute head start) would show up first.
My wife and kids came and hung out and said goodbyes and joked around a little. I later saw video of this incident and TT1 can be seen switching from a road bike to a TT bike. Makes we wish they had not seen me and it is also funny. I guess we have the home field advantage because I knew which bike I wanted and would not change no matter what another team was riding.
Here is the shot heard around the world! Ed was spotting with the binoculars up the road from me and starts waiving his arms around. Toro comes tearing up the hill with no TT1 in sight. RIDICULOUS.
This set the tone for METAL1 and the entire race. We would fear no team, yield no time, dig deep, dig hard and impose our will on the race: no matter the time of day, road conditions or unexpected calamity. I was deeply inspired by Jeremy's utter domination and felt a profound obligation that I should destroy myself and answer his silent call.
I wanted to focus on riding but I muttered, "that guy is a freaking animal!" as I sped out of the exchange point. The TT1 guy heard me but that is of no matter as it was time to burn. I got up to a very fast speed and held it there. I was feeling great and passing scores of riders. Missed a few lights, made most of them. I lost my water bottle in the first couple miles and this would end up being a big problem later because I cramped in the last hour and I never get cramps. No big deal just a race detail for the record.
We reached the stoplight where Lake Wohlford road intersects with the course, its a long light so I ended up with a collection of riders around me. They all clicked out and I was the only guy track-standing. I was happy to see some support cars show up because I knew they would block the road as we were about to go down a major hill and I wanted to use the entire road. Sure enough, the light turned, I went full gas and looked back to see a cluster of bikes and support vehicles blocking out any regular cars and/or drunk people heading for the casino. Perfect. I barrelled down the hill often hitting 45MPH and I believe 50MPH for a stretch but at those speeds you don't spend much time staring at your Garmin with your eyes off the road.
I was working hard but saving a little in reserve. We chose a TT bike for this section but also skipped the allowed exchange point at Harrah's (because it had to be performed on the left side of the road meaning you could get stuck at TWO lights). I blasted past Harrah's and saw many riders set up for a right-sided exchange which I think is a violation but, again, I needed to race on. From Harrah's to the taco shop there is a few hundred feet of climbing. Here, I had to climb on a TT bike which was a sacrifice we made with our eyes wide open. My Heart Rate was sitting between 180 and 190 but the darn bike was fighting me. I had spent much time above 30MPH so 12MPH climbing just feels slow, even if you are laboring. I gave it all I had to get to Ed and Jeremy who were posted up perfectly for the assault of Palomar (skipping the South Grade, sadly).
I should note, last year's RAAM I rode 45 minutes or more at LEAST five times and on one occasion, The Taos Debacle, it was 90 minutes. Did not happen once this year. Our exchanges, hotel selections and shift arrivals were ALL text book. This is a credit to Ed with assists from Jeremy and (to a much lesser extent) me.
Team ViaSat First to Time Station One: Lake Henshaw
After the Taco shop METAL1 had preplanned the rest of our exchanges to divide the Palomar climb and then jump onto TT bikes. We would use our climbing bikes again to stomp the 2000 feet of climbing between Lake Henshaw and the town of Ranchita which sits at the top of the Glass Elevator. Ranchita is very small but has this Yeti freak out statue that always makes me laugh.
A local real estate guy built it himself and apparently will make one for you too. Wonder if I should have him make a nine foot tall version of Jeremy scowling and give it to him as a gift? I digress.
Jeremy and I know these roads very well so I was comfortable that the hurt we were putting on the pedals would keep any team from closing on us. We were both throwing down and after a little rise I was extremely gratified to pass the little market at Lake Henshaw that is the first Time Station on RAAM (TS1). There are a total of 55 of them in the race and arrivals are recorded and (quickly) posted for all to see. One of our goals was to send a message and get here first. Kevin Hunter and I spent a good deal of time discussing this and I even thought of him smiling somewhere looking at his smart phone knowing we had delivered the treasure for ViaSat.
I was not smiling because, typical me, I went full gas up the rise to TS1 and was surprised to not see METAL1 posted up for an exchange. Don't know why I assumed it would happen there? In fact, I even sat up to make sure they were not buried among the many vehicles in the lot. They were not. I'd ride a little longer and the guys were ready to take over, no problem.
I should note TS1 is the actual spot were I got airlifted to Palomar hospital after shattering my collarbone, breaking 5 ribs and collapsing a lung. I now ride with a plate and eight screws which, I'm sure you realize, is TOTALLY METAL. No time for chopper rides this day.
Jeremy took over with Lake Henshaw on our left shoulders and pounded out about 6 miles. It now was time for me to jump back on a roadie and start our last section of climbing for the day, it was that 2000 feet of up-road I mentioned earlier. My next pull would be short and memorable.
Crash on hard right to Ranchita
Rider exchanges are best done on a slight incline and hopefully never on a downhill. No matter how smooth an exchange is executed some speed is lost. For this reason, Jeremy and I would trade six mile pulls and try to change when the rider is slowed a little by the terrain. Fewer exchanges made in clever places is a tactical maneuver which was standard operating procedure for us. Ed and I set up in such a perfect spot for me to take over.
Jeremy came charging up but the incline robbed some speed, perfect, and I was off. I had a cross to tail wind and once I crested this little bump it was a down sloping road to a right hand corner.
Time to hit the gas into the corner
You can see the corner up ahead, and I'm digging deep to keep the speed high
This is a photo (above) of the corner where I introduced myself to the pavement, 90 degrees right at 30+ MPH.
You can see this corner a mile away as you tear down the slope. I could also see a number of vehicles which I assumed were race officials, media and very likely a TT1 support vehicle. We had five minutes on TT1 and I wanted to BLAST past those people and send a message: ViaSat intended to run away with this race...All 3000 miles.
Ideally, this would force TT1 guys to start riding above their heads and perhaps lead to some performance collapse. Inherent in this strategy is also the notion of self-sacrifice. Jeremy and I were battling against FOUR TT1 riders. Even if we fought them to a draw the idea is to punish them and make them tired. In theory, we should have a HUGE advantage when Shift #2 (Ryan and Tobias) takes over because ViaSat throws two fresh riders on the road to finish off the four guys we have softened up for five hours. This was in my mind as I accelerated into the corner, last look at my Garmin...32MPH.
The road was smooth, no loose gravel and I think I negotiated most of the turn.
METAL SLIDE!!!
Here is a video Michelle shot just as I got in METAL1 after the crash
So why did I crash?
1. Race Day Excitement and Mano y Mano Battle: Oh yeah, a distinct possibility. You push limits in RAAM. We were in front of the favorites, on terrain we knew and Jeremy and I were NOT riding above our heads. This was a typical Murder Train throw down and we were ready to give 'em more. We were just doing what we do EVERY Saturday, it hurts, its violent but there was no chance anybody was gonna pass us without a serious fight. Still, I hit that corner with far more speed than what you would normally do. Most likely cause.
2. New Tires: I always start RAAM with fresh stuff, cassettes, chains, tubes and tires. Road tires will break in after about 100 miles and the "contact patch" gets seasoned and more "grippy." My tires were spanking new and perhaps lacked a certain suppleness that comes with miles. This one will never be certain but I list this as a possibility more than a probability.
3. Here is what I think what really happened: I made the corner and started pointing the bike towards the promised land. Having cut a sharp and fast 90 degree turn it was time to stomp down with my right leg harder than I've ever done before. Remember, Jeremy got me all fired up by kicking ass and being all inhuman. Well, what is required to stomp? Yep, you have to elevate and then press down. This is where the rubber left the road. As I raised my weight to deliver the knockout blow to TT1 and show the world ViaSat was not content with second place, both tires quit playing a supporting role in my melodramatic vignette. The hammer came down and somebody moved the anvil. Both tires gave out at the same instant. My right-sided pedal slam turned into a right-sided pavement SLAM.
So there I was, one of those watershed moments in time and life when everything slows down. I know you have been there too. That magical time you marry and you irrevocably assume the role of an adult, when you are blessed with a child, or when a life ends and you just can't do a thing to prevent it. Time stops.
I knew I had crashed.I would not immediately know the damage. A few years back, I crashed on a Death Ride and tried to get up. That day, I felt like the old lady in the "I've fallen and I can't get up" ads. While I fully expected to get up and keep riding, I had shattered my collar bone, broke 5 ribs and collapsed a lung. Not only could I not get up, the flipping cell phones did not work and I went into shock and started feeling the waves of death washing over my body. While unafraid, I could feel life fleeting me and I suffered for the wife and children I would leave behind. I was a passive onlooker to my approaching death and there was so much left to be said and done. My left lung had turned into a flapping plastic grocery bag and chills spread from head to toe as I felt the my body become frail and unresponsive, ignoring my will to survive. Harley enthusiasts came to the rescue, calls were made from nearby hilltops, a helicopter was deployed (from TS1) and I fully recovered. I never would again assume you can get up after crashing hard.
I should note, when I crashed at 30+ MPH my "power slide" was positively faster than the team average so even when I'm on the ground, I'm still kicking TT1's ass!
So there I am, on the ground, glasses flew off my face, bike is beneath me and I'm in no pain. Same as my last crash. GET UP AND RIDE! Unlike the old lady, I popped up and surmised my collar bone did not snap. I'm up!!! Shit, blood all over the place. How's the bike? Back wheel won't spin, shifters jacked up...the chain is triple twisted.
I'm fine...let's race. TT1 still has not showed up.
Here is the badass part. Ed just happened to look in his mirror as I went all ground-level. He instinctively halted METAL1 and I'm sure Jeremy had his helmet on in a nanosecond. This is what I loved about METAL1. Three guys for one task, no questions, no debate...just DO IT.
Chuck and Ron were on the spot in a few moments to investigate. This was just another example of how awesome and totally professional the ViaSat crew was again this year.
Luckily, I had a quick-link chain link which means you can remove the chain with no tools. You just get your hands filthy. I was pretty amped from racing and crashing and reinstalled my chain incorrectly. In addition to race spazziness I was also (for some reason) fixing the drive-train side of the bike (the right side viewed from the rear) standing on the left side of the bike. I was hanging my head upside down and Ron quietly noted that it was wrong and that he should take over. Chuck moved us out of the road which was a really good idea, one that was apparently lost on Ron and I in the heat of the moment.
The bike repair after the crash is a shining moment for Ron. He knows more about bikes than me, he stayed calm under pressure and got ViaSat rolling again faster than if I were left to continue my backwards, up-side-down, bike-yoga wrench-fail. I did not know Ron before our shift, later that night Ron drove with us to our hotel in Prescott for five hours. Everybody likes Ron but, like everybody on the team, he is one of a kind. His five hour verbal presentation on all subjects conceivable is the verbal Magna Carta of RAAM and his persistent loquaciousness became legendary. Ron needs his own section, I'll come back to him later.
I'll admit, the crash actually got me fired up. I became ten men once I realized I could keep racing. I had trained too hard to fail this early and therefore truly enjoyed the gift of a second life by not crashing out and getting a chance to deliver during the race the power I'd rehearsed so often in training. Jeremy set the tone on Old Castle, I put the volume on 11 in Ranchita...we would bring the METAL. Ed, Jeremy and I became a Band of Brothers, ready to bear any burden to be the fastest group in all of RAAM. Each guy brought something useful to bear on task and each guy would expend those capabilities entirely. Pretty rare.
I love to conclude my crash lost us no more time than a missed stoplight, because Jeremy crossed wheels with me (though I actually do not remember this) and resumed the stomp within 1-2 minutes. I really wish it was that simple. Its not, the crash cost us more than this and here is why.
First, I had ridden less than one mile between taking over and crashing. Jeremy rides 100% for his pulls and leaves nothing between the lines. I do the same. This means, you arrive at the end of your effort near death, use the 15 minute break to recover and repeat. My crash meant all bets and metered efforts were temporarily off.
Jeremy arrived fast and spent, got only about three minutes rest before jumping back on the road. I don't care about RAAM legends or fake tales about super human power, fact is all the riders want to be the go-to guy but we all governed by human limitations. Too much grinding too often costs speed and this no doubt did as well. I'll tell you later about our 1/2 mile pulls up Wolf Creek Pass and you will understand that while it is noble to say 'I can ride for five hours alone' it is simply not as fast as two mates splitting the work and predictably digging into years of training.
So Toro had to ride too long. Never heard a word of complaint and we just did our best to improvise. You likely saw in the video, I was concerned about getting Jeremy off the road and I was ready to ride. I fashioned some bandages (a particular challenge on a TT bike because you rest on your forearms and my right one was trashed) and jumped out there.
We lost some time, but we were still in front and racing at full gas. I took over at Ranchita and would now do the long descent into the Anza Borrego Desert.
The Glass Elevator
I took over and it was decided I would ride down the Glass Elevator. This is around ten miles of downhill and the elevation drops from 4200 feet to about 750 feet above Sea Level at the bottom. One cool thing is that Jeremy and I rode both the lowest and highest elevations in the whole race. There is a section near Salton Sea that's actually below Sea Level and we also had the pleasure of crossing the Continental Divide over Wolf Creek pass on day three. Trivia but still cool.
In many ways the RAAM experience is typified by the little treasures you come across which can be anything from an interesting fact like this, to some confrontation with wild animals, extreme elements, hilarious personalities or any other manner of the unexpected. RAAM always delivers these things and by an intense, yet relatively short period of days, and bestows upon the riders and crew a priceless and intangible asset: having done something truly unique and remarkable.
A Red Beaver in Colorado was posted up on the road and rightly ignored my arm waiving which raised the real possibility of me bunny hopping a giant rodent at 40MPH on a TT bike. Zack (Texas hunting and nature-knowing guy) got a real hoot from my failed attempt at Beaver sign language. Jeremy got into a drag race with a filthy shirtless kid in the dark on a Friday night in West Virginia. Naturally. Denner got chased by a pit bull who may have only given up the attack because our completely nails crew sized up the situation and drove the follow car at the animal like a charging elephant. I don't know all the road stories, I may never, but they filter in and this time-released comedy and revealed adventure is one way RAAM keeps giving long after we've resumed our conventional lives.
Back to the action, Jeremy weighs 172 pounds to my 143. He is an excellent bike handler and his 30 pounds of what I can only assume is fat and blubber from never working out should make him faster on a downhill. There are two separate advantages to being a fatty: first the same wattage produces more speed downhill when you are heavier and second, the corpulent guy is less likely to get blown off the mountain with heavy gusts. The Elevator is both tortuous and has deep-cut gullies that focus the wind raising a substantial risk of crashing/dying.
A few weeks before the race, Tobias and I rode this thing together in 50MPH gusts. I wanted to ride the actual course and T was a good sport for coming along. Well, T weighs more than me too and I let him drift away from me on the descent because I was sensing trouble. No need to die in training right? I popped around a corner and saw T pulled over to the side of the road. He had nearly been tossed off the hill and actually had to stop, count his blessings and wait for his nerve to ride to return. This lesson was not lost on me as I raced down this same hill a fortnight later.
Again, the crash jiggered our rotations and I got the downhill. I stay with Jeremy when we barrel down hills in training, I touch 50+ regularly and I ride everyday since forever. I'm comfortable on a bike but it still would have been preferable to have Toro do this descent. We made do.
I took off down the hill and to my surprise Jeff Banninck from TT1 blows past me. I think that is their best guy, he is strong as an Ox and what the race really missed was this guy going head to head with Jeremy (our strong man). So Banninck was strong and he goes past me, I was not happy and I confess I thought my speed would have kept anybody from passing me. As Jeremy said "the guy is talented." So I tipped my proverbial hat (for about two seconds) and went to work on damage control. I did catch him looking back at me and I think he did not expect me to ramp up and hang on. Good.
When the road would straighten out this guy was hammering. I felt like I was trying to hold Toro's wheel and it hurt bad. The good news is, that is pretty much what I do every Saturday and while this guy might get a gap on me there was no chance of a runaway.
I lost the most ground on the corners. I would never have expected this because Banninck is like nine feet tall and people like that are generally strong but gigantic doofuses on the bike. Kinda like a male cheerleader trying to get his hip hop on, not gonna happen. To my surprise, Bannick had beautiful bike handling skills and I would have felt admiration for his art if I wasn't presently livid that a big fella was dumping me on a descent. Again, I train with a guy 30 pounds heavier than me who opens up his "meat grinder" and quietly rides away on the longest mountain climbs. My lessons in humility and persistence were perfect training for giving up no more to a powerful rider than he was able to snatch from my greedy clutches. I would fight and never fold.
We also saw that TT1 had deployed road bikes with aero handle bar extensions for this hill. Pretty smart. You get the handling and safety of a road bike but the rider can still tuck into a faux TT position between corners or when the winds allow such a centered point of gravity. Something to consider if we do this race again.
TT1 never left our sight for the rest of the shift. It was a challenge to change riding styles to ground and pound on TT bikes after all that action and climbing. Fatigue set in during the last hour as we switched to night riding rules and my left leg decided to cramp at the hamstring. I've been riding hard essentially my entire life and this would be the first time I've ever had this problem. Crazy.
I assume I got behind on water during the first 11 mile pull (remember the lost water bottle) and failed to drink enough between pulls as I tended to my wounds. Whatever the cause, I actually could not lift my left leg to click into the pedals as the entire leg would seize, freeze and self-ignite into a solid muscle pain-ball.
I told Ed not to tell Jeremy about this. I knew I could ride, I'd just negotiate with my right leg to do more for an hour. It responded. I wanted to keep Toro riding at his purest, no proposals to shorten my pulls or bullshit drama to take us off our game of our direct battle with TT1.
Once I got the bike up to speed (the big challenge with 1.5 legs), I would deploy my left leg and do what desperate limbs require. That is, pull up more, push the front of the quad, follow through by extending the left foot (calve power) and do anything I could besides pedal circles. I could not dig into my left hamstring to from 6 to 12 on the back side of my left leg stroke. I improvised and kept the speed up. With signs of collapse upon me, my mind could race but I knew at some level I just needed to get my body to the end of our shift. Then I could catch up on fluids, determine what injuries from the crash needed attention and live to fight another day. In this sense, it was a perfect day: go all out and finish with nothing in the tank.
Near the end we could see Ryan and Tobias and this really lifts your spirits. For all the suffering would be worth it, the temporary pain would be over and replaced with a permanent record written in stone, never to be erased.
We had started three minutes behind TT1, were first to TS1, and those guys were still in sight and we handed the race off the Rotation two with ViaSat in first place on time.
On that point I should clarify, we could see TT1 when we finished and Jeremy estimated them to be 90 seconds in front. Ryan thinks is was closer to three but I suppose we'll never be certain nor does it change the central facts. METAL1 did the things we set out to do on day1. We assumed our brothers in arms would both see this and be inspired to give it everything. It certainly had us fired up for our next shift because we knew we could compete with the top team. A wonderful feeling only dimly realized at that time through the haze of exhaustion and battle fatigue. We knew it was mission accomplished.
I should say Ed really stepped up his game this year too. He was throwing bikes, helping with lights, keeping the miles, and keeping us on course. All the energy he expends running around and throwing our bikes on and off the rack is power saved that the riders can throw into the race. This is the nature of selfless crew work as the team comes first. Ed showed up to this race with more clever preparation and he also delivered more physically, at the end of the race both Jeremy and I knew he was a great driver for our team and made us faster.
We weathered, a crash, a thrown chain, minor navigation distractions, cramping for me and rode faster than TT1. We were proud to hand off the race in (or near) first place and would not know until the next morning how our six other riders would perform.
The next post with take you through the METAL1 transition from racing to mobile city and the numerous tasks to be performed before racing again in the mountains of Arizona.
I'll try to add more photos and cull some of the horrible writing later.
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