Peaks to Prairie Adventure Race is a 3 stage race. Starting partway up the Beartooth Pass with a 9.3 mile down hill run into Red Lodge, MT. The second stage, where I am staging, begins in Red Lodge and assaults highway 78 for 48 miles to Columbus, MT, where the final stage begins. Here the firmament is left for the swift flow of the Yellowstone River. A 10 mile paddle, a quick jump out of the boat and sprint up the bank to the finish line. It is almost par of the course for there to be some level of inclement weather along the race route. The first year I competed, doing all three legs solo, it snowed on the run, blew a stiff head wind on the bike and a nice head wind with a freezing rain to finish the course. This year I am competing with two other elite athletes to make up Team Steepworld, representing the Steepworld Climbing gym in Billings, MT.
The runner, Brian Potter, a former college distance runner, whose times and training distances makes my knees and lungs and respiratory system emit a scream that can only be described in the death throes of a prey being overtaken by its predator. Our paddler, Dave Bankley, is not just the strong paddler that will pull the final leg of the race and ensure that we are on top at the finish, but is also the brains of the team as it was his idea to bring a group of us together for a shot to win the entire event. Knowing the expected times, baring to much inclement weather, Brian is expecting somewhere around a 5:20 minute mile for the duration, while this may not be the fastest on the course it will be a showing that will place us in first ten runners in and bikers out. Dave is confident that as long as he is in the water within a minute or two of the first will be able to over take and overcome to bring home the victory. That leaves me to make up as much time as possible on the bike.
The morning air is cool, yet not crisp as it often can be this time of year. There is a softness to it that comes with a rise in humidity over the dry mountain air. Humidity with a over cast sky is an indication of moisture to fall at some point during the morning. Taking the bike off the top of the van and quickly setting the frame upon the CycleOps 65mm tubular wheels, the rear of which is build around a G3 powertap hub, to give both a gauge to exertion and knowledge of how much more I can push; these are the definition of speed. "Thank you Jesus for the opportunity to race on these wheels, yet all the equipment in the world will not make a difference if you are not the one in the driver seat, so Lord today is Yours, take it and use it for Your glory!"
After a good warm up it is to the staging area to await the anticipated call of each team's number. The first time the teams are stacked against each other and the first time the world knows where the initial standings are. 1st number called out, signifying that the runners are about a mile and a half out, not our team need to keep waiting. Yet like the first drop of rain from a storm, the frequency in which they come increases rapidly. A duration of only about 45 seconds passes then our number "407" goes up on the board. "Here we go..." warmers come off, knowing that what ever cool there is right now will all but vanish within the first few miles of the course. Standing their, while the duration is in the order of less than 10 minutes seems an eternity. The wait, wondering where they are and beginning to sense that maybe I should have left the warmers on a bit longer. Passing the time is spent by chatting with other racers and checking out their bikes. We all are a bit cool. "keep your composure it will start soon." Finally, the first runner comes in and the excitement which had us on pins and needles instantly intensifies. "This is real, we are really going to do this. Lord Jesus, to You be the glory, please help!!!" Then the second and third runners come in and then the fourth. "Where is he...there" "Game time." As Brian comes through the gate a quick call of his name directs him through the hypoxic fog that I am sure he is in, and the pass of the timing chip is made, a 10 meter dash across the timing mat and onto the bike. "settle in, it starts with a hill." Two 90 degree corners right out of the gate and I am climbing the first hill of the day 10% for a little under a mile "OUCH!" and with that it goes from 4 in front to 3. The first 19 miles of the course are rolling hills ranging in grade and duration from easy to hard yet always with a reward of a fast down hill on the back side.
With the fight on, the road throws its one ally at us, the wind. Not only does it buffet the 65mm deep rims, which keep with their form to help the air slip over them with as much ease as possible, but also rider and bike. "Lord Jesus, I know everyone else is fighting the same thing, but this hurts" As the miles push on so do riders 2 and 3 slip back behind. A look down at the Joule GPS indicates that I am sitting around 365 watts and feeling pretty good. With only one rider ahead and him coming into view it is time to figure out a stately. I know that as soon as I pass him I will have a target on my back but will also be gaining needed distance between us. I decided to taper back for about a mile leaving a gap in the order of 50 meters or so. Not that it provides any physical advantage but what it does provide is a mental wheel to follow and a slight rest decreasing my wattage down to around 295. Coming into the next hill, 5.5% for about 1 km "Okay, lets get it. Jesus, please carry me." With a steady build of speed, the dropping of a gear and a "nice work, keep pullin' hard" as I pass I know that I have just put a large bulls eye right on the back of my jersey, "never mind, just crank and do not let up."
Refusing to succumb to the temptation to glance behind and see how the gap is looking a quite voice begins to grow as I am coming into the last hill of the day. Without even giving it a chance to reach the audible level "SHUT UP LEGS" dispels it or at least drowns it out to where its cry of pain is not heard over the rushing wind. Cresting the top and into the final 29 miles which averages about a 1.5-2% decline with a few rollers but mostly straight. "What was that.." something had hit my helmet, another one. Sure enough it was the leading edge of a rain storm dropping down to the valley from the heights of the Beartooth Mountains. "Lord, thank You for Your perfect provision." The valley had been and is in a drought, yet the Lord in His great mercy is blessing us with some much needed moisture. Never mind that it is in the middle of a race. Just as Isaiah 55: 11-12 says "As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it." "Lord thank You for the rain and thank You for Your word the Bible, which You have given us and use to bring forth new life and fruit in the lives of Your people as You have desired and designed it to do!!"
To say that I am familiar with this portion of the course would be a gross understatement, as it is part of my regular training route, know each hill, bend, turn and even crack in the road. Yes, every crank in the road as there is one about every 20 to 30 feet for 3 miles in one stretch before the portion of the road that was redone 2 summers ago. While it is a bit frustrating I use the breaks to my advantage in that I know the lines though them that afford the least bumps and therefor the most speed. It also means that I am almost to Absarokee, the only town on the course of any size. Approaching town, I half expect to see my wife and possibly a few people from my church standing out to cheer me and the other competitors on as we battle against each other, the road, the clock and the wind. With this knowledge, and by the grace of the Lord, a few extra watts materialize out of my legs and are transferred through the pedals and chain to the rear wheel and down to the road with the hope to bring it under submission. Yet, to my surprise, it was not my wife and few members of the church but the entire church was there with signs and shouts fit for a European classic. "Thank You Lord for an awesome church filled with awesome people." As most athletes will attest to, fans can give you energy and strength. While the encounter with the church was only about 2 seconds it was enough to not only carry me through town but also up the final hill of the day with out even a sensation of fatigue hitting me.
12 miles to go. The wind builds as a constant foe endeavoring to keep me from the finish line, rest, yet knowing that is where rest is, the battle against the wind and the road rages on. With little event in these last miles, except for the growing weight in my legs that strains to slow both cadence and speed and an ache from being in the aero bars for the past hour and a half. A final push across the bridge that spans the Yellowstone river a better than 90 degree right hand turn and a dismount right at the timing mat (which is required that "all bikes are walked across the timing mat..." really?). Somehow in the following seconds the timing chip is transferred from my ankle to Dave, I shout "Go!" and hang the bike up in the rack. As I collapse onto the ground the tail of my aero helmet props my head like a dandelion atop its stem. With a slight readjustment and removing the helmet I am out, having left nothing out on the course and a time of 1:43:52 for 48 miles. "Thank You Jesus."
A few minutes later, with most of my faculties regained and a warm cup of coffee offered it is time to cheer on the rest of the racers coming through the gate until my wife and kids arrive to drive down to the finish line for the boating leg. Once on the road in the comfort of a van with heated seats to ease the leg muscles a call from Dave comes in to see if we are coming down..."'Dave how did you do?' 'Did okay' 'Well were you the first out of the water?' 'Yeah I was' 'Well then praise Jesus, as nothing else matters on how it went, first out is first out, that means we won!!!'" Thanks be to God for an awesome weekend of racing and a great team to race the Peaks to Prairie race with.
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