Iceman 2010--My first Iceman Cometh

The next few weeks I will be publishing race reports from the past two years.

Iceman Cometh Challenge

It seems like the entire year was building up for this one race. And what a race it turned out to be.

My husband Chad and I took Friday off so we could drive up in the morning to set up camp. On the eve of Iceman, Mother nature granted us the first snow fall of the season. Half-way up north it was a full on snow-storm.

After pre-riding the last 5-6 miles of the course a few things were clear: it was going to be COLD and MUDDY.

At the expo we picked up some cold-weather cycling gear: booties, full-finger gloves, and hat for Chad. We got back to camp early in the evening and enjoyed a relaxing dinner. Everything was going smoothly until . . .

Chad went to try on his booties over his mountain bike shoes. The clasp on his shoe broke off into his hands. His shoes literally fell apart (they were 17 years old). We made an emergency run to the expo (which was only open for 30 more minutes). We found the ONLY pair of mountain bike shoes in his size in the entire building. The owner gave him an awesome deal and even threw in SPD cleats. Crisis averted! I was really hoping we wouldn't be duct-taping Chad's shoes onto his feet in the AM.

The morning of the race I felt ill. I tried to eat breakfast but couldn't stomach my usual diet. I managed to keep down some oatmeal with a banana smashed in it.

There were over 3,700 racers. They started us in waves based on finish times from last year. If you hadn't raced before (like me) then you were put in a late wave with other first-timers in your AG. There were 49 waves of riders. The first 20 were "veterans" of the race. The next 20 waves were the Men's AG. After 40 some waves, the women's AG finally began.

I knew if I wanted to place in the top 5, I had to, at the minimum, be out in front of everyone in my wave. The fastest women in our AG that had raced before had a huge advantage of being in the first 20 waves and wouldn't have the traffic jams we'd be facing in the back.

The first 14 miles or so went according to plan. One other woman and I dropped our entire wave and were way out in front. We began passing the guys immediately. Because the 20 waves in front of us were all Men's AG, we only passed men (at least for the first 25 miles).

The course was not technical. But it was slick from the snow and ice and the single-track was really muddy, like peanut butter. Every time we hit a section of single-track, we'd have to slow down to a near stop because of the traffic jams of slow and inexperienced riders. We'd bide our time behind them or try and leap-frog them through the woods. Once we got to an open section we'd fly past dozens and dozens of racers.

I should have made my move and passed the other woman by mile 8 or 9. I was confident I could drop her because I was climbing much stronger than she was. However, I thought it would be best to stay on her wheel until the mid point of the race. That was a mistake. The single-track was too clogged up, there were too many guys on the trail. She'd get around someone and that same person would cut me off. It was poor sportsmanship on their part, but it's also part of the race. Next year I will know better. She was able to get a gap on me and I just couldn't bridge it. And there was no one riding our pace that I could work with after that. I was on my own.

Not in any kind of pain. No pain at all. Really.

I pressed on, passing hundreds of guys. There would be rows of guys hiking their bikes up a hill and someone, thankfully, would holler "rider up!" and they would part to make room for me. Most of the time. There was one guy, as I mentioned, who saw me coming and stepped right out in front of me knocking me over.

During the last steep climb my quads started to pop and cramp. I have never felt such pain. I dug deep and attempted to block it out. I was in so much pain, I knew if I got off my bike at this point that I wouldn't be able to get back on. I survived the climb and entered the last single-track section. It was so clogged up and muddy, most people were walking their bikes. I managed to slowly snake a path through the hikers but my pace was slowed to a crawl.

I coasted the last 100 feet because of the cramping in my legs. After finishing, I laid on the ground for about 15 minutes while my quads and hamstrings cramped, it was sheer agony.

I am happy with my race. I missed podium by one spot. And was never passed during the race, I did all the passing--just couldn't catch that one elusive woman (she rocked the course). Next year I will have a seeded start and am hoping that it will be a much different experience.

That's a lot of mud.

By the way, it was so muddy, my bike chain was making really bad clunky sounds and it was impossible to shift the last few miles.

After the Race

Pro Racer Mackenze Woodring, flying up a climb.

One of the great things about Iceman Cometh are all the pro racers that come out. The pro race is held after the rest of us mere mortals suffer the course. By the time you finish the race, lay on the ground moaning for awhile, and change clothes you can grab yourself a beverage and hike back out along the course in time to watch the pro racers dance up the same hill you just saw Jesus on hours earlier. The post-race party and atmosphere was a lot of fun and I am looking foward to returning year after year.