My Logan to Jackson Classic 2005 Race Report

The day started with clear skies and mild temperatures, which is a perfect start for a bicycle race, but turned out to be the downfall of 622 of the 1000 starters. The mild conditions lulled riders into starting with very light attire. When the weather took a nasty turn for the worse about 30 miles into the race, many riders were unprepared and paid the price.

View video of the start line activities:

View video of the start of the 45-54 Citizens:

The first 23 miles or so, the pace was very easy. So easy to the point of making me impatient and I briefly considered moving to the front and pushing the pace. Before I actually took any action on that, a citizen’s group that started after us caught us and the pace picked up by about 3 miles per hour. Then, about 6 miles from Preston, the approaching storm clouds brought very strong headwinds from the northwest. I struggled to stay on the wheel of the rider in front. There was little shoulder on this stretch of road and he was already riding on the white line. That put me uncomfortably close the edge of the pavement. When we took a jog to the west near the edge of Preston, I glanced behind and saw that the pack had split. One group of 20 or so were about 100 yards behind us.

As we approached Preston, there were more cross roads to deal with and it gave me a chance to think about the upcoming feedzone. Fortunately, Pat was doing my support. After supporting me flawlessly in 8 previous LOTOJA’s, her support was again flawless. At the first feedzone in Preston (32 miles into the race), she convinced me that I really needed to put on warmer, full-fingered gloves, a hat, and booties. Those items and a banana would make a big difference for me later in the race.

It started raining pretty hard just after Preston. By the time I reached the turn-off to Highway 36 and the start of the climb towards Strawberry Summit, I could feel cold water seeping down my ankles to the bottoms of my feet — even with the neoprene booties on. The cold and the fact that I wasn’t riding in a group made me very anxious, so I was pushing the pace as much as I could. I would ride briefly with the groups of one or two riders that I encountered and then move on because I didn’t want to risk getting any colder than I already was. As I climbed towards Strawberry Summit, the temperatures dropped. My suspicion was that there would be snow at the summit. Fortunately, the rain seemed to lighten as we approached the summit, but it was still pretty cold. Riders were drenched during the climb, but stayed warm. After the summit, the 2000-foot descent in 20 miles left a lot of ypothermic riders.

With the booties, hat and long-fingered gloves, my extremities were doing alright, but I still felt chilled due to fairly light clothing elsewhere. At Montpelier (80 miles in), Pat was there with a rain jacket and dry gloves. Those items and a climb just outside of Montpelier got my core temperature back to normal. There were a lot of solo riders on that stretch, including myself. Riders seemed more interested in surviving the day than forming a group. I was with one rider — and he was in my age group — most of the way towards Geneva, Idaho (92 miles in). On the descent off of Geneva Summit, the sun came out for its one and only appearance that day. That was enough of a distraction to me that I let a gap open to the rider I was with. He must have been a lot stronger than he looked because I could not close that gap.

From Geneva to the summit of Salt Creek Pass (7600 feet), I was riding solo — hoping to catch the group of four I could see about a quarter mile ahead. With more than 100 miles yet to go, it would have been suicidal to push to close that gap, so my only choices were to stop and wait for a group (none were even within sight) or keep on with a moderate tempo. After stopping for a nature break and to remove the rainjacket, I proceeded up the last 3 miles of the Salt Creek Canyon. The last two miles are a steady 7% grade. I was glad to not be in a group that I had to try to stay with because it was painful enough just keeping the pedals moving. At the top, even without the rainjacket, I was sweating pretty hard. The smart thing would have been to stop and put the rainjacket back on, so I kept the suffering going and proceeded down a long descent without the rainjacket. At the bottom, it was raining only slightly, fortunately. I caught up with another rider near the bottom and he and I pacelined as best we could into the headwind all the way to Afton where Pat was at the feedzone.

At the Afton feedzone, I picked up water, Cytomax, and another banana. I left as quickly as I could, hoping to meet up a group of riders. No such luck, but I bridged a gap to a lone rider up ahead who was still trying to sort though the items he picked up at the Afton feedzone. Fortunately, his pace seemed to match mine pretty well and when he said he needed to stop for a nature break, I decided to wait with him because there was nobody in sight ahead or behind. His business done, I told him we should wait for the rider that was now about 200 yards behind us. The third rider was a relay rider who was keeping a very brisk pace. Things were looking up except that it was starting to rain again — hard enough to really throw a good spray off the wheel of the riders in front of you. So, the choices were to stay in front where there was no spray and you could stay drier, but you had to work harder, or ride behind where you could sit in the draft of the rider ahead, but you got soaked from the rain AND the spray. I did a bit of both. When we caught a fourth rider, I was inclined to stay as a group of four. The other two riders felt otherwise and opened a gap. By the time I realized what had happened, they were beyond reach. Half-heartedly, I attempted to bridge the gap again. In the next 10 miles or so (around Freedom and Etna, WY), I soloed on, trying not to work too hard, but also trying to stave off hypothermia. Hypothermia was winning. I was drinking enough fluids during the race, but it was a struggle. My hands were cold enough that it was difficult to squeeze the bottle hard enough to get any fluids out of it. So, I tried to suck fluids out except that my face was cold enough that I couldn’t form a good seal around the water bottle nozzle. That combination of squeezing and sucking meant that a good portion of fluids ended up running down my chin. Didn’t matter though — I was already soaked.

I caught a rider and was again getting some protection, but I was shivering so badly that I had to stop. I put on the rainjacket and spent about 5 minutes trying to work a Clif bar out of my rear jersey pocket. I had insulated, full-fingered gloves on that fit snugly — if I took them off my already cold hands, I knew I would never have the strength to put them back on again. Finally, I’m back on the road again and the rainjacket was definitely a big help. I felt tolerably warm again and I soloed on to Alpine (159 miles in) where the next feedzone was. Pat had more water, Cytomax and another banana. I could feel the initial twinges of cramps in my calves, and a banana seemed like just the thing I needed.

From Alpine, we proceeded through the Snake River Canyon. The new road in the Snake River Canyon is a vast improvement. There’s fairly wide shoulder the entire way. I caught up with a group of 5 riders, one of whom seemed content to ride at the front most of the way. I think I took just one pull in the front while I was with that group.

View video of me riding through the Snake River Canyon:

I’m the second rider in this group of six.

About halfway through the canyon, some riders caught and passed us. I noticed that three of them were from my age group. I had no choice but to stay with them. This new group joined some other riders and became a larger paceline that worked reasonably well together. I took 3 or 4 pulls in front in the last half of the Snake River Canyon. In case you were wondering, yes, it was still raining. At the last feedzone (180 miles in at the end of the Snake River Canyon), I stopped even though some of the riders in the group I was in kept going. I needed water, whatever kind of energy drink they had, another banana (the fourth one for the day), and a trip to the restroom. In the restroom, I could hear someone throwing up in back of the row of porta-potties. At least I don’t have that going on today!

Leaving the feedzone, I caught on to a large group of about 20 riders. That group and a good tailwind for the last 26 miles of the race was probably the best luck I had had all day. We caught the riders that I had lost when I stopped at the last feedzone. There was some kind of paceline rotation going on, but riders in the relief line were pulling back into the paceline about 10 riders from the front, so my chance to take a pull never came. I wasn’t going to complain.

In the last 5 km to the finish the pace picked up a bit and we dropped a few riders. At 200 meters from the finish, a sprint (and I use that term loosely) developed. I passed all but one of the riders from my age group in that sprint. I didn’t know it at the time, but that sprint turned out to be for 5th place. My finishing time was 11 hours and 10 minutes. The winning time in my age group was 10 hours, 48 minutes. The fastest time of the day was 9 hours, 42 minutes.

View video of my approach to the finish:

(I’m the guy in yellow at the back hanging on for dear life.)

View my interview just after the finish:

(Sorry about the blob of water at the center of the lens.)