FanPost

drewder's Hotter'n Hell 100 ride

This is extremely long of 3700 words so if it's tl;dr I'm OK with that. I also apologize if it sounds whiny or overly dramatic but it's how I felt at the time.

This is very long so I’m sorry but it turned into an emotional experience that I wasn’t expecting.

This is for all who may be interested in my experience at the Hotter’n Hell 100 in Wichita Falls, Texas. I thought about writing just about the ride itself but I feel the need to describe the entire journey. I also want to point out that I don’t want to downplay the experiences of those that complete Ironman length triathlons or marathons. Ironman tri’s are obviously more challenging and require much more training. On a level playing field I think a marathon is probably a little tougher than 100 mile ride(I have never run a full marathon though). I also want to point out that I’m casual rider. I had never gone 50 miles until 2 years ago and I didn’t even ride that distance again until early this summer. This ride however was not on a level playing field and it is my first ever attempt at 100 miles.

It’s been a pretty mild summer here in the Midwest and I felt if the weather pattern continued I could lucky and benefit from lower than normal temperatures in North Texas. Ten days out I began watching the forecast and saw that a "heat bubble" was forming over much of the Midwest including North Texas, Oklahoma and Missouri. I wasn’t really disappointed I knew what I had signed up for. The forecast for the even stayed pretty much the same at 103 for the high. I did not know however what the wind forecast was going to be until 2-3 days out. 3 days before the ride I saw it. Winds 15-20mph gusting up to 30, this is when worry set in.

I throw myself in to my last minute preparations. I have new tires on and fresh tubes in. I have a new larger saddle bag to accommodate 2 tubes instead of one that I normally carry. I recheck my bike. It’s an older 2004 LeMond Alpe De’ Huez that I put together myself with newer components. I’m very proud of it even though most cyclists consider it a dinosaur and lacking of some of the nicer features of modern bikes. It’s light enough and it certainly doesn’t hold me back any. At this point I haven’t exceeded the skill that my bike can handle. It’s good for me. I lube the chain and wipe off some gunk that has formed on some of the rear cassette. I cruise around the neighborhood for 5 miles or so just to make sure everything is working. The bike barely whispers as I pedal. It’s almost as if it’s saying to me: "let’s do this. You got this thing." The bike is ready. I don’t need to take much so I fit everything I need into a back pack except for my memory foam roll, sheets and pillows I will need for the first night. I load up everything into the back portion of the cab of my truck, including my bike because I don’t have a bike rack. I have been checking and rechecking everything I need and I start pacing about the house the night before I leave. My wife notices and asks if I’m nervous. I say "no" but that isn’t true, I’m nervous.

I don’t sleep well that night because I’ve been hydrating so I have to get up to several times in the middle of the night. Next morning I take my daughter to school come back home and see my wife off to work. I take one last check of my gear and I set off. The trip looks to be about 6 and half hours but It takes me much longer as I am still hydrating so I have to stop more than a single parent with a car full of toddlers. I’m excited as the miles click off the odometer. I reach Oklahoma and I’m happy to see the 75 mph speed limit. That’s a lie there is on off construction for much of the way to Tulsa it seems so I have to slow down all the time. I start seeing a few cars headed southwest with bikes on the back. I want to wave and smile and say "I’m going where you’re going" but I can’t. I have no bike rack so to them I’m just some random dude in a truck waving and smiling. I eat lunch at a Taco Bueno and think maybe if I tell the people at the church where I’m staying what I had for lunch they will give me my own room. I pass through OK City and now there are many cars with bikes. We are all going to the same place with big plans. I finally reach Wichita Falls and I promptly get myself turned around and drive back and forth across the city twice before I find the convention center for the packet pick up. Packet pickup is a breeze and I stroll through the vendor’s area and look at everything. It’s almost time for the women’s Criterium race to start so I go out the starting line and watch the start and several laps. They are flying at probably close to 30 mph. It’s very hot so I start head down to the church I’m staying at to get squared away. It’s maybe a mile away and the lady at the door tells me no check in until 7 so I go get pancakes at IHOP for dinner. I get back at 7 check in and find a spot near a power outlet for my phone. I’m soon joined in my area but 3 other riders. A college kid next to me is a racer and he is competing in the 60 mile road race. I try to explain my skill level and he is nice but doesn’t seem to understand how it’s possible to ride so slow. Another rider who is in a faster starting corral than me says it’s no big deal I should make it ‘easily’ he says. I talk a little with the 3rd rider and he’s from Dallas. He is about my pace but says he’s not too worried because he completed a tough 100 in Las Vegas. Again I am hydrating so I don’t sleep well and I have a bottle of water next to my bed to sip from.

I wake up at 4:30 am on ride morning to crack, plop, crack, plop, crack, plop. There is a woman cracking eggs into a big bowl for breakfast a table a few feet away. I eat breakfast put on my Mizzou cycling jersey and drive to the starting area. I get about 4 blocks away from the church and see people filling up a parking lot. I quickly turn in and join them. I get my bike out air up my tires to the pressure I want and ride on towards my corral entry point about ¾ of a mile away. I get in the front of my corral roughly 45 minutes before the start time. I ask the volunteer how many riders and he says 12,000 give or take. I am in the last corral for the 100 milers, behind me are the 3 other distances but I can sort of see the start line banners 6 blocks ahead of me and I can’t see where the riders end behind me. There is a man in jeans riding an old mountain bike with a headlight that looks like it was stolen off a ’75 Monte Carlo and a giant horn. I don’t know if this should make me feel better or worse. A local high school choir sings the national anthem and 2 stunt planes do a fly over. I hear the cannon go off at 7 am. The pre-race literature says Hell’s Gate at mile 62 will close at 12:30 and that is the cut off to continue on or be forced to take the bail-out route back to the finish. Rumors are swirling among the riders that Hell’s Gate will close at noon instead. I look at my watch it’s 7:15 and the corral in front of us is has not started yet. Finally I see the corral in front of us go but things start to really jam up way down by the start line. Again whispers among the riders are that a crash has occurred. This scares me because I’ve never ridden in a crowd like this before. Finally at 7:30 the riders have cleared the starting line and they let us go. I realize that if they close the gate early and along with the 30 minutes I lost at the start I have 1 hour less than I thought I did. I also know that I have to stay in control of my heart rate so I can’t ride too fast. We are off and I’m moving slowly because the riders are packed together. As we get a couple miles down the road there are still many riders together but spread enough that I can get to the speed I feel comfortable. I can feel the wind a little it’s out of the south and I am headed west. I am already seeing people getting picked up for equipment failure. There are enough riders surrounding me that I am protected. I’m riding fast (for me) but my heart rate is under control. I have to pee so bad it hurts. Rest Stop 1(RS1) there is a line about 100 riders deep for the bathrooms and the place looks like a small city. I can’t stop I don’t have time. I have plenty of liquid on board to keep going so I don’t stop. 2 miles down the road I see the rider that did the Las Vegas ride he’s on the side of the road fixing a flat I don’t see him again. Finally the shorter rides split off except for the 60 milers so I hope that RS2 will be less congested. At mile 13 or so a wasp hits me just above the neck line of my jersey and stings me. It hurts but I’m worried my neck will swell up. I choose to ignore and press on towards RS2 because the pee situation is getting desperate. I arrive at RS2 mile 20 it’s a madhouse. There is some chest high grass along a fence line and there are 10 or so riders relieving themselves. I don’t have a choice I get in the grass and go. I am sipping liquid still and I feel I have enough to make it RS3 no problem. I take off and I can see down the road riders for several miles. It looks like a conveyor belt of bicycles. I am still riding fast and we turn north with the wind at my back. The 60 milers take the turn so things thin out more. Some Longhorn fan rolls buy and grumbles ,"Mizzou should have never left the Big 12. Neither should have Nebraska." I respond with "We’re pretty happy where we are now " also, no mention of A&M so we know how he feels about them. I get to RS3 mile 30 I feel really good and my time is excellent. This RS is in some dusty little village and we probably quadrupled the size of the town that day. People are saying don’t roll your bike in the grass you will get sand stickers in the tires. I don’t and carry it over to a tree and rest it there. I down a shot of pickle juice like some cowboy taking a shot of nasty low quality whisky in some run down western saloon. I fill up and eat and take off. I turn back to the east, I’m noticing the wind. I have no protection now and it’s a serious 20mph cross wind. I try to ride on someone’s wheel that is my pace but I can’t get with someone that is in my groove. It’s getting warm, no it’s hot but I don’t feel uncomfortable, yet. Some woman wearing Teva sandals passes me and she looks like she’s just out for her regular Saturday ride, no big deal. I get to RS4 mile 40 and things get weird. There are some cloggers on a flatbed trailer dancing to "Blurred Lines". I am standing there with my bike and a volunteer offers to hold my bike for me so I don’t have to lay it down or go through the grass. I again down a shot of pickle juice fill up and eat. I’m off again and I notice the wind is taking its toll but I still feel pretty good. So far this entire ride has been on asphalt and it continues. It’s approaching 100 degrees and the surface temperature of the asphalt is much higher. I hit RS5 mile 50 and I’m halfway. My legs aren’t as strong but I feel good. I’ve just laid down my fastest 50 mile time ever. Thank you for that Ozark hill training because it’s pretty flat out here. I again fill up and eat. A man comes in that looks to be the spitting image of James Harden and I can’t put that out of my head. Another giant of a man nearly breaks my arm giving me a high five and a "MIZZOU" shout. I’m off again and I’m starting to notice little things and aches. There was a long stretch of bumpy road that left my hands numb for a bit. I’m looking at the time and I feel good about making the gate in time. 1 mile before RS6 and we turn south. It gets brutal the wind feels like we are pedaling in mush with no progress. I look ahead and it looks like a long line of cyclists slowly marching on. No one is chatting up riders anymore. We pass each other in silence. This south stretch only lasts for 2 to 3 miles it’s just a terrible preview of what I have to do in the last 25 miles. RS 6 is only about 1 mile in front of the gate. I go in and I know I need to continue to refuel so I grab a GU from a basket and down it. YUK! It’s roughly 11:50 am and a loudspeaker announcement "Hell’s Gate closes in 10 minutes. Cyclists scurry out of the tent like cockroaches when the light is turned on. I bolt as well. Minutes later I pass through the gate and I see "Congratulations, The gate is still open" . I was relieved. At that moment I feel a twinge in my left calf. I know what this means and went from emotional high to dread. I decide I’ve come all this way and I trained so I’m going on. I slow my pace way down and try to stretch my calf as best as I can while on the bike. I can feel it regularly twitching. I am starting to see people find odd bits of shade and sit down with their bikes as I ride by. Sometimes it’s as small as a road sign or tiny shrub. There is no shade out here and it’s hot. At the gate we turned back to the east and the crosswind again. I get to RS7 mile 70. My calf is bad but is hasn’t full out cramped yet. I keep to my routine but also dump and entire bottle of ice water over my head and grab some ice towels and stuff them in my jersey. I am really riding slow now and my thighs are starting to feel pain. 2 people pass me and one has music playing Lady Gaga. I don’t like here music but strangely it sort of perked me up a bit. I get on to RS8 mile 80. Lots of shade here and I’m grateful. I sit and massage my calf. My stomach is full of liquid and food so I don’t really know what else to do. We turned south just before the RS. I know now that every inch is heading back to the finish. I’m in lots of pain. I ride up to a woman and hang out on her wheel and we can pick up the pace a little. We ride up on another guy and she rides on his wheel. We have are only little drafting group. Suddenly it hits. Sledgehammer to my calf. It locks up and I cry out in pain. Somehow I am able to unclip and get off the bike without crashing. I stretch out the calf but the damage is done. It feels like I’ve been stabbed in the calf and it won’t stop. I get it working but I’m in a lot of pain. Everything else sort of fades away because I know that everything depends on my left calf. I take off again and I have no idea how fast I’m going. It’s painfully slow in every sense. The wind is blowing straight in my face down this asphalt road and I can feel it pick up the surface heat. I now see SAG and medical every couple minutes and they are full each time. There is an RS at mi 87 and I stop again. My stops since RS7 have gotten longer and longer. I’m not worried about getting tight so much because it’s so hot. I keep working my calf and pay attention to doing everything I can to get cool and keep my core temp down. James Harden dude walks in acting like it’s no big deal. I thought he didn’t make it since I saw him fixing a flat just before RS6. Riders are huddles around the giant fans and no one speaks we have our heads down in silence. A SAG driver comes in and asks if anyone needs a ride, half the riders leave on his truck. I take off again and focus on small goals like a bush out ahead or a tree or telephone pole. Each one is a minor victory. I reach another RS at mi 92. I have 10 miles to go since the official distance is 102. 10 miles feels like 10,000. I have been using one water bottle full of ice water to douse myself to stay cool. I grab more towels and rest and massage my calf as much as I can tolerate. I go back out and 100 yards away from the RS my right calf twinges. I go 3 more miles to another RS. I have to stop and rest again the heat and wind are insane. People are still filling up the SAG wagons and some dude faints near the water cooler. Medical is with him in seconds. I get back on my bike and I can see the downtown buildings in the distance. I start getting into town and I catch 2 riders. One is a woman who appears to be riding a low end comfort bike (amazing) and she is getting encouragement from a huge man who is all of 275 riding a fat tire bike. The scene is absurd to me but go on. It’s 103 degrees and there are riders huddled up against the walls of buildings in the shade either resting or waiting for SAG. I start seeing a few people along the street and bless them they are cheering from me. I see up ahead a flyover on the highway that I must ride up and over. It’s not steep but it feels like a mountain. The top is roughly mile 99 and I see a woman who has either crashed or fallen over, both SAG and Medical are there helping her. She is sitting up so she seems to be ok. I coast down the other side of the fly over and the road turns 2 times to get back to the north. I feel a bit of adrenalin kick in. I hear a shout and 3 guys are in a pace line flying by. I have no idea where they came from. I’m alone and I see the finish line. I cross and I am crying as I finish. No one knows I’m crying because I’m dehydrated and not producing tears. I stop and a volunteer give me my finish medal. I hold the medal up and try to smile for my photo. He doesn’t know I’m still crying. I walk off the side and lay my bike down, take my helmet off and sit on the curb in the shade with my head in my hands. I am nauseous and I have been since mile 85. 2 paramedics must see me because they come from somewhere and pick me up and tell me I have to go to medical. They ask me if I want an IV and I say no because I think it will make me throw up. I lay down in the medical and the cramps wash over me. Both legs calfs and thighs and I’m crying out like a wimp. The dr. talks to me and gives me a pill for my stomach. He asks me a lot of questions about what I drank and if I’m sweating and such. They ask me repeatedly for my race number which I can’t remember because it’s on my back and I’m laying on it. I keep repeating the same number over and over because I think it’s close. I tell the EMT’s helping the doctor I’m going to puke so I do and at the same time every muscle from my waist down is cramping severely and I’m puking. I’m crying out because the cramps hurt. Dr tells me he’s giving me an IV they get it in and the relief comes within minutes. I lay on the bed chatting with a guy on my left who also finished his first 100 miles today and is in the same shape as me. We both have an IV and are feeling better and start laughing about the ride. I feel great but I’m emotionally and physically drained.

If you read this entire thing thanks for sticking with it. I felt I needed to get this written down one way or another.

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