Mohican 100

Two weeks prior I was in the lowest point of my racing experience. For a couple days I seriously considered the idea of giving it up, with ‘it’ being the time, effort, and money that I put into preparing and traveling to these races only to be crushed, both mentally and physically. After those first few days in the doldrums, I decided to pick myself up and look forward to the next event, the Mohican 100, in central Ohio.

I used to think Ohio was flat and boring. In the Mohican State Park, Amish country, there are short, steep hills and they are painful. Somehow they managed to string enough of these hills together for a total elevation gain of 11,000 feet over 100 miles.

In past races over the years, both on and off the bike, I have paid close attention to my heart rate and pacing. I tend to have a higher heart, with a race pace of around 170-180, and the ability to burst up to 200-205 quickly which can be bad in a long race. At Mohican, I decided to try something new and just ride by feel and try like hell to hang on to L&B's rear wheel.

The start is a field sprint up a steep climb for about a mile before rolling down some double track and into the woods single file. Luckily we were all able to get into the woods safely without too much trouble; only one crazy jack leg buzzed B’s rear tire before crashing out. Our 100 mile race started at the same time as the 100k race. They both sound similar in difficulty and length (what’s another 38 miles, right) but the fact is that the 100k race will often draw in individuals who have never raced such a distance and will go out of the start gate a little overly ambitious. In the 100 mile crowd, we generally know each other and, although we only see each other a couple times a year, have shared respect and exchange some common courtesies on the trail. Not so with the 100k new comers, who breathe fire and think they can pass through whole field in the first 5 miles of single track. L&B and I had particular trouble from a guy in a Marian Jersey. We named him, uncreatively, Marian. Marian tried to do his best to put us all out of the race before it got started.

I’m trying to work on the aforementioned common courtesy in these races and not tailgate racers in front, unless I’m looking to pass. As a result, I tried to leave about a 10 yard gap between myself and L. Unfortunately, Maid Marian did not share my view and saw the gap as something that needed to be closed. This sequence was repeated about 6 times; Marian would pass me, almost immediately bobble on a root or crash into a tree, then I would pass back. On one such event, Marian got in front of me, tried to jump a tree and get around L, immediately flew over his handlebars and narrowly avoided t-boning B. L passed back but I could not get around before the knuckle head jumped up and started running with his bike. In my moment of frustration I unloaded on the guy with some colorful language. It’s funny, in that moment I was so pissed that I was ready to throw my bike down and go to blows with the guy. What’s more funny is that, unlike road rage where you can yell at someone, roll your window up and be on your way, this guy wasn’t going anywhere. Almost immediately I regretted my outburst and when he managed to make his way back up to us, I apologized and made amends. L says I handled it well enough but it is important to remember that this is just a game that’s supposed to fun. If a guy wrecks in front of me I shouldn’t be pissed that he’s slowed me down, I should see if he’s ok. I need to maintain the perspective that I’m doing these races to for fun and to learn important lessons about myself like patience, perseverance, that when it gets bad, the bad never lasts. Marian did manage to pass l and I one more time before unceremoniously crashing off the trail. Like In tennis, if you bobble the ambitious ace attempt, you need to go for the lob. I don't think Marian plays tennis.

The rest of race is mostly a blur. I got dropped by L&B about mile 30 (they’re too fast in/out of the aid stations and just too fast in general). However, somehow I managed to stay within 9 minutes of them through to the finish, though I never saw them again. I did make a friend shortly after the L&B left me to fend for myself: Brian Collier. Brian talked just enough to keep me distracted but not so much that I wished he’d shut up. Brian set most of the pacing and provided me with the moral support to keep the pressure down. It’s amazing how much simpler it is to allow my mind to shut down and just focus on sticking to his wheel. Instead of the constant, “Am I going to hard? Too fast” argument in my head, it’s just, “stick to his wheel and don’t fall off.”

The cool weather definitely helped in keeping me from overheating and allowed me to eat more regularly but I’m hopeful I can build upon this experience and continue to improve. I’ll never see the front of the race, but I don’t think the NUE has seen my best. Next Up: Lumberjack 100 in North Michigan next week. I’m looking forward to see what the future holds. Here's a great highlight reel from the folks at cycling dirt.


Watch more video of Mohican 100 2012 on cyclingdirt.org