Yes, you read that correctly. 2009. Not 2011, or even 2010. 2-0-0-9. I didn't race this year, so I think I'll just tell you all about my first experience with the event.
2 weeks prior to the Fool's Gold event (Early August 2009) I first starting kicking the idea around. I had never even ridden 50 miles, let alone in the actual mountains of North Georgia. Actually, I had only raced one race, a 6 hour coed team. At Fort Yargo. Yep, I called myself a mountain biker and didn't ride in the mountains.... what a fraud. About a week and a half before the race, I met a few local riders at Yellow River park to ride after work. At the end of the ride we all were back in the parking lot and chatting it up, I mentioned that I was thinking about trying the 50 miler to Danny Preston... "You should do it!" he exclaimed. My friend Sheri also agreed, but I just wasn't sure. I remember thinking; 50 miles seems so far, I just don't understand how people can ride that long.
1 week to go, and I had to make sure I could even ride 50 miles. I went to the most familiar trail I could think of at the time: Fort Yargo. A standard mountain bike lap around Fort Yargo is about 11.7 miles. If you add the newest addition (the Monster Mile) It comes out around 13.1 miles. I figured if I rode 4 laps around Fort Yargo, with the monster mile included, It would put me at just over 52 miles. Should be a good test....
4 laps later, feeling tired and yet very excited to have survived, I ate a sub and drove home to get a shower. Good day. My first 50 miles. How much harder could this "Fool's Gold" race be?
I shared a room with my good friend Sheri and we hit Wal-mart in Dahlonega for our microwaveable breakfast goods. The race started at 7:00 am for the 100 milers, and 7:15 for the 50 milers. So we had to be up around 5:30, get the car loaded up, get dressed, food eaten, and get to the race. When we pulled in, it was still dark. The chain of cars coming down the long gravel road to the parking area with their headlights on seemed endless, and kind of surreal. After I parked I started following other racers around until I saw what they were up to.
10 minutes later, I still didn't really know what I was doing so I finally asked someone... it turned out to be Namrita O'Dea. She and her husband Eddie put on this whole event. She explained that I needed to put my SAG items in the camp Mess Hall. This was basically a large barn with nothing in it except for 3 folding tables, to the right side of the room. All 3 were covered over completely with other racers ziploc bags (SAG gear) so I just found a table with a spot left and put my bags on it too, and left. I didn't know that these tables were numbered, and that they had any influence on where my bags would show up...
At the starting line, feeling confident I could ride 50 miles, self assured that my SAG bags would go to wherever I may need them, I was focused on everything around me. I heard some people talking... "That blonde woman is Loretta Simpson, she is a BEAST". From the other side of me, "That Jeremy guy is wicked fast". It seemed I was surrounded by veterans. Should be an interesting day....
Thinking about Loretta Simpson and her super-BEAST powers, I started eyeballing her ride. She was sporting a Trek Top Fuel, loaded with top-of-the-line components and it just looked fast. I didn't know why but I wanted to be a beast too... maybe I could chase her down? Hahahah riiiiiiiight.
The race begins and I see at least a half mile of riders climbing the gravel hill in front of me and what seemed like an ocean behind me of racers. I felt rested, strong even. Climbing along I passed a few people I heard talking at the starting line. Some people went screaming up on my left and right, weaving through the crowd and making this hill look like it was flat. Suddenly I was halfway up the 9 mile gravel grind, and I looked to my left. I was riding right next to her. The BEAST. She was breathing easily, her Trek looked ready to launch at any second. I kept on my pace, and before I knew it, I was ahead of her. I still felt pretty good even at the top. About 2 miles later though things took their first turn for the worse.
I stopped at the first SAG stop, and asked for my bag. I could sure use a gel I thought. They didn't have my bag. What? What do you mean you don't have my bag, It should be righ..... SHIT!!! It dawned on me I put all my bags on the same table, but didn't know which one. Oh hell this could be very bad. Just then, Loretta went screaming by on the downhill. Her Fuel with it's Disc Brakes and BEAST power driving it, quickly took her out of sight. I never saw her again actually.
At the next SAG stop I stopped again, with the same result. I stopped, people passed me, and I left without my bags. Lucky the SAG stops had excellent volunteers with H.E.E.D. mixture in the water jugs. 30 Miles in, and I was still feeling good. Only 20 to go, what could possibly go wrong? Just when you think that kind of thought, only one thing happens. You go down. You don't see it coming but you should. You are riding and everything seems fine, and then WHAM!!! You get to meet the ground, and in a hurry. And so I did.
I just passed this guy for like the 4th time, and pulled out of sight, when suddenly I'm picking myself and my bike off the ground. He flies by me in a blur and shouts "You alright?" and then he is gone. It happened so fast. I felt sore, but I had to get up and continue. Blood was barely trickling out of my right leg, but I smacked my knee cap on the handlebars, so it was throbbing pretty badly.
After I rode another mile, I had to stop and straighten my seatpost. The crash knocked the think about 10 degrees off to one side, and that is NOT comfortable. Then I get to an uphill, and realize that only 2 of my gears work without skipping. Ahhhh right, I bent my derailleur hanger. This is not good. Sometimes they snap if you aren't lucky. I was lucky.
I made it to the 40 mile mark, and started running on fumes. A volunteer with a bike-work stand tried straightening my derailleur. It sort of worked. Now I had about 4 functioning gears. When I rode to the finish line, I put the bike down and walked to some shade and laid down. I was on the verge of passing out. Later I made it to the racer's food line, and got huge portions of lasagna, pasta salad, and some other items, before going to check my race time. I was hoping to finish, and nothing more, so I had no idea what to expect. I heard that some pros came through for lap 1 of their 2 lap race at around 3:46 or so, and went back out for the 2nd lap. Turned out the first place 100 miler turned a 7:30 something time. I was fortunate to finish, especially considering the crash, and the bent derailleur, and even the SAG issues... but I turned a solid time of 5:46. "Something to shoot for next year" I told myself. I had to check it too, but the BEAST turned a time of 4:57. She was the only woman to turn a sub-5 hour 50 mile time. Wow.
Maybe next time I will lay back a little, and send my SAG bags someplace on purpose.... lol
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| My ride at the time: 2005 Gary Fisher Marlin, featuring rim-brakes, and shimano deore components. |
1 week to go, and I had to make sure I could even ride 50 miles. I went to the most familiar trail I could think of at the time: Fort Yargo. A standard mountain bike lap around Fort Yargo is about 11.7 miles. If you add the newest addition (the Monster Mile) It comes out around 13.1 miles. I figured if I rode 4 laps around Fort Yargo, with the monster mile included, It would put me at just over 52 miles. Should be a good test....
4 laps later, feeling tired and yet very excited to have survived, I ate a sub and drove home to get a shower. Good day. My first 50 miles. How much harder could this "Fool's Gold" race be?
I shared a room with my good friend Sheri and we hit Wal-mart in Dahlonega for our microwaveable breakfast goods. The race started at 7:00 am for the 100 milers, and 7:15 for the 50 milers. So we had to be up around 5:30, get the car loaded up, get dressed, food eaten, and get to the race. When we pulled in, it was still dark. The chain of cars coming down the long gravel road to the parking area with their headlights on seemed endless, and kind of surreal. After I parked I started following other racers around until I saw what they were up to.
10 minutes later, I still didn't really know what I was doing so I finally asked someone... it turned out to be Namrita O'Dea. She and her husband Eddie put on this whole event. She explained that I needed to put my SAG items in the camp Mess Hall. This was basically a large barn with nothing in it except for 3 folding tables, to the right side of the room. All 3 were covered over completely with other racers ziploc bags (SAG gear) so I just found a table with a spot left and put my bags on it too, and left. I didn't know that these tables were numbered, and that they had any influence on where my bags would show up...
At the starting line, feeling confident I could ride 50 miles, self assured that my SAG bags would go to wherever I may need them, I was focused on everything around me. I heard some people talking... "That blonde woman is Loretta Simpson, she is a BEAST". From the other side of me, "That Jeremy guy is wicked fast". It seemed I was surrounded by veterans. Should be an interesting day....
Thinking about Loretta Simpson and her super-BEAST powers, I started eyeballing her ride. She was sporting a Trek Top Fuel, loaded with top-of-the-line components and it just looked fast. I didn't know why but I wanted to be a beast too... maybe I could chase her down? Hahahah riiiiiiiight.
The race begins and I see at least a half mile of riders climbing the gravel hill in front of me and what seemed like an ocean behind me of racers. I felt rested, strong even. Climbing along I passed a few people I heard talking at the starting line. Some people went screaming up on my left and right, weaving through the crowd and making this hill look like it was flat. Suddenly I was halfway up the 9 mile gravel grind, and I looked to my left. I was riding right next to her. The BEAST. She was breathing easily, her Trek looked ready to launch at any second. I kept on my pace, and before I knew it, I was ahead of her. I still felt pretty good even at the top. About 2 miles later though things took their first turn for the worse.
I stopped at the first SAG stop, and asked for my bag. I could sure use a gel I thought. They didn't have my bag. What? What do you mean you don't have my bag, It should be righ..... SHIT!!! It dawned on me I put all my bags on the same table, but didn't know which one. Oh hell this could be very bad. Just then, Loretta went screaming by on the downhill. Her Fuel with it's Disc Brakes and BEAST power driving it, quickly took her out of sight. I never saw her again actually.
At the next SAG stop I stopped again, with the same result. I stopped, people passed me, and I left without my bags. Lucky the SAG stops had excellent volunteers with H.E.E.D. mixture in the water jugs. 30 Miles in, and I was still feeling good. Only 20 to go, what could possibly go wrong? Just when you think that kind of thought, only one thing happens. You go down. You don't see it coming but you should. You are riding and everything seems fine, and then WHAM!!! You get to meet the ground, and in a hurry. And so I did.
I just passed this guy for like the 4th time, and pulled out of sight, when suddenly I'm picking myself and my bike off the ground. He flies by me in a blur and shouts "You alright?" and then he is gone. It happened so fast. I felt sore, but I had to get up and continue. Blood was barely trickling out of my right leg, but I smacked my knee cap on the handlebars, so it was throbbing pretty badly.
After I rode another mile, I had to stop and straighten my seatpost. The crash knocked the think about 10 degrees off to one side, and that is NOT comfortable. Then I get to an uphill, and realize that only 2 of my gears work without skipping. Ahhhh right, I bent my derailleur hanger. This is not good. Sometimes they snap if you aren't lucky. I was lucky.
I made it to the 40 mile mark, and started running on fumes. A volunteer with a bike-work stand tried straightening my derailleur. It sort of worked. Now I had about 4 functioning gears. When I rode to the finish line, I put the bike down and walked to some shade and laid down. I was on the verge of passing out. Later I made it to the racer's food line, and got huge portions of lasagna, pasta salad, and some other items, before going to check my race time. I was hoping to finish, and nothing more, so I had no idea what to expect. I heard that some pros came through for lap 1 of their 2 lap race at around 3:46 or so, and went back out for the 2nd lap. Turned out the first place 100 miler turned a 7:30 something time. I was fortunate to finish, especially considering the crash, and the bent derailleur, and even the SAG issues... but I turned a solid time of 5:46. "Something to shoot for next year" I told myself. I had to check it too, but the BEAST turned a time of 4:57. She was the only woman to turn a sub-5 hour 50 mile time. Wow.
Maybe next time I will lay back a little, and send my SAG bags someplace on purpose.... lol
