Berryman Epic 55 mile Mountain Bike Race 2009
By Andy Pele
I suck on a mountain bike. This point was driven home quite convincingly after getting whooped at this race. It took me almost seven and a half hours to finish, about three hours longer than the winner. Even the first woman was two hours faster than me. It’s hilarious to me that I can finish third in an Ironman race and 83rd a month later at a mountain bike race. Besides being pitifully slow, I crashed a few times and walked a few more. But man did I have fun!
You can make a whole weekend of this ride if you want, since they offer a “tour” version on Saturday. Nathan Means chose to do that and though Sunday morning he said, “I just hope to finish,” he improved his time by 30 minutes. The Tomicki’s also chose to enjoy both days, renting and sharing their cabin with us at the Bass River Resort and doing some riding of their own on Saturday. It was fun to spend the night talking, eating and drinking with them the night before the race. It was especially fun to hear Tom’s stories about the little old ladies who spun past him up the technical climbs the year before.
Saturday night was party time. There was a bonfire, food, beer and prizes. The atmosphere was very different than the night before a triathlon, though I did notice that people headed off to bed as soon as the prizes were all doled out. The prizes ranged from socks and gels to mountain bikes. Even the volunteers got to participate, a nice touch. Matt Widzer won a pair of socks and I lucked out with a cycling computer.
I had decided that I would ride with Rodney and Tom since we didn’t seem to want to ride competitively. I also thought that Matt might ride ahead of us if he was feeling good because I think he has better mountain biking skills. But we immediately got separated. I lagged behind at the start hoping to catch up with them when the crowd thinned out. But within a quarter mile we were all bunching up again as everyone lined up to walk their bikes across a trailer that had been driven into Courtois Creek to serve as a bridge since the water level was so high. I looked up creek where it seemed wider and shallower and then decided to try to ride it after watching the race director drive through in his pickup. I almost bogged down but managed to make it across, but the water poured over the tops of my waterproof socks. Oh well …
Thinking the gang was up ahead I didn’t even look back and so I end up riding alone for 37 miles. Roots, and mud and creeks, repeat. Once in a while my bike and I and the trail seem one happy organism. Those moments are magical and I feel like I’m just sailing along, weaving in and out of trees or leaning in and out of curves. I’m doing my best to make sure all the better riders get to pass me and chase their prey. I like it better when I can ride at my own leisurely pace anyway. Sometimes I get going too fast and can’t make the sharp turn. My bike heads off the trail and towards a huge tree. Down I go, eyes closed and just hoping that I don’t hit that monster. Not a scratch on me and laughing all the way.
The mud’s ridiculous, but somehow I can make my bike go thru it. I can’t believe it. The creeks are numerous, but each one rideable. Push the bike down into the gully, lean back as the front end climbs up and out. Aim away from the bigger rocks that want to stop your momentum.
I wind up on a gravel road wondering where in the world I am when I see Tom and Rodney riding the opposite direction on a parallel trail. Tom figures out that I’m actually ahead of them since I’ve been to one more aid station than they have so I tell them I’ll wait at the next and last one. When I get there Barbie Miller gives me her mug and points me to the coffee. I load up on rice krispy treats and candy bars and plant myself by the fire, thanking the young man who’s keeping it stoked. I take my wet socks off and dry my feet by the fire. Right about then I’m loving this “non-racing.” Tom pulls in several minutes before Rodney and he’s rearing to go. But I wanted to wait for Rodney so Tom waits too.
I ask about Matt and find out he “fell off the pace.” He should have eaten the pancake breakfast they provided like Rodney and I did. Actually Matt was having all kinds of trouble. His suspension fork had decided to become a stiffy and his brakes had decided to become lubricants instead. We should have waited for him too, but when Rodney arrived thirty minutes later, Tom and I were ready to go.
I find out then that Rodney has been falling quite a bit and even whacked the back of his head on one tree and had the wind knocked out of him twice. In spite of this, he’s telling me “I’ve never had so much fun on a bike.” I know just what he means. We ride easy for a while and I’m hoping Rodney picks up a few tips by watching me navigate the roots. But one drop is a little too high and he goes over his handlebars. Not hurt bad but getting tired, we slow down even more and let Tom ride away from us and finish 25 minutes ahead. It’s raining by this time but not too cold. Finally we get to the last section, a smooth gravel road and ride that into the finish, trying not to get the wet dirt and sand in our eyes. Our tires throw it up at us now that we’re moving faster.
At the finish, we eat hamburgers and chili and warm up next to the fire. Then we get cleaned up and head home, stopping at Missouri Hick BBQ in Cuba for more food. I can’t say much about the BBQ since I had filled up on hamburgers at the race, but the blackberry cobbler was excellent.
I think the Leadville 100 will be easier for us, though it’ll probably take us longer to finish. Matt and I are looking forward to trying the Breckinridge 100 in July since it has more single track than Leadville, hence more thrills.