Better Late then Never
My goal was to start the Big Fat Ride, June 4th, 2006, (also known as, America’s Most Beautiful Ride) about 30 minutes before the masses were let loose at 6:00 AM. It would mean that I would get to the Emerald Bay climb at about the same time some of the elite riders would and just about the time the road would be closed from car traffic. Since I was already in Tahoe the week before the ride—all I needed to do the night before the ride was to transfer all my biking gear and bike to the hotel and check-in for the ride. Unfortunately, I missed the person handing out the ride materials (stickers, ride number and ride band you need to get past the checkpoints) by five minutes. I called and she said she would leave it at the hotel lobby after she returned around 10:30 PM the night before the ride. I decided to go to dinner and then bed—thinking I would pick up the information first thing in the morning.

I got a good night’s sleep and was waking up feeling excited and energized at 4:30 in the morning. Dressed and ready to go (lycra, leg warmers, arm warmers and chamois in full effect)—I made my way to the lobby of the Edge Hotel just before 5:00. Unfortunately, the lobby was closed and no one was there for me to plead my case to. I could see my ride package from outside the locked glass doors. The lobby opened at 7:00. Ugh!

The Edge Hotel is located near the peak of Heavenly Ski Resort. You can ski to your room during winter and there is a ski lift about half a mile below the hotel. From my room I could see all of Nevada. The elevation of the hotel has to be close to 8k feet. It was only 4 miles from the start line at the casinos but due to the nature of the grade and road—it takes about 15 minutes to get down to the bottom.

The late start added an unneeded element of stress. The event has a sweeper wagon that will pull you from the course if you are falling behind and move you forward resulting in less then a 100-mile ride. Also, the road closure at Emerald was for an hour and a half—starting a little over an hour after the official start time— which meant I would have to push a harder than planned.

Emerald
Steve Asche and I left behind the last Team in Training group with a bunch of independent riders. It looked as if Team In Training made up 99% of the 3K plus riders that filed out on the route this Sunday morning. Steve is a phenomenal rider—so it was nothing for him to hit 20+ mph on the flats to make up a little time before we got to the road closure/check point. Just after 7:00 in the morning—my legs were wondering why I am asking them to push so hard. We arrived at the first of many lines of the day. We caught up to and passed many TnT teams from around the states. At the checkpoint we had to show them the green sticker on the front of our helmets, a plastic wristband and ride number which was safety—pinned to our back. Shortly thereafter—we were climbing the one thousand foot climb of Emerald Bay.

Billed as one of the hardest climbs of the day—the fact that it is a short climb (about a mile) and includes a couple switchbacks—made it more then “doable”. I was not fast, but I made it up without thinking too much about it. I did feel the normal strain in my lower left back that I feel with big climbs—but it was something I fully expected. The sneaky part of the emerald climb is the second hill—which I think is harder then the first. Shorter and less steep—it doesn’t get much hype, but after pushing up the first hill the second hill was harder for me.

Just after the first major climb we ran into a huge pack of people and had to come to a full stop. We crept along (walking not pedaling) but we actually were just closing the gaps in the pack, as it was not moving. There was an accident between two riders which resulted in emergency vehicles driving up the closed road to gather the riders and take them away. Just as we started rolling again we passed the first rest stop. I was only a couple hundred yards from it but because of the mass of people and the location – I had no idea I was so close to fresh water. Thinking back, it is a little like NASCAR, if I would have known we were under a yellow flag, I would have pushed forward to make a pit stop and grab some water. We were only waiting 10 minutes and once I had a green flag—I was still eager to make up time lost due to my delayed start and skipped the pit stop.


Picture "borrowed" from Bing Zhan

At the Top of the second climb we ran into another pack of people—this gathering was even larger and looked liked it caught most of the people out that day.  Because of the first accident we are now sharing road space with cars. For the first time I actually felt sorry for cars who had to share space with cyclist on the road. They were stuck in traffic and surrounded by thousands of adrenaline-filled cyclist waiting to get their day under way. We waited for 20 minutes this time—turns out a lady from Texas had a serious crash on the backside of Emerald and had to be air lifted out. The thought of the accidents and being bunched up in a huge pack took the fun out of the downhill from the second hill. I love the speed but going 30+ mph surrounded by riders of different experience/comfort levels made me feather my breaks down to the bottom of the hill.

Riding Out to Truckee and Back
Catia, Sally, Roger and my Mom were waiting for Steve and me at the corner of Squaw Valley Road and Highway 89—which is mile 56 if you are keeping track. My original goal was to be there at 10:30 with a start time of 5:30. Steve and I were there at 11:00 (not that I am bragging but you have to factor in the 1 stop for checking stickers, 2 stops for the accidents and the late start to grasp how hard Steve and I were cranking the pedals) At mile 56, I was dehydrated and a little hungry. I should have been drinking more water. Skipping the rest stop was a stupid mistake on my part. We took a 30-minute break to eat a banana, drink a diet red bull, and eat an energy bar. We refilled the water bottles, shed the leg warmers and took a couple photos, and then we were back at it.

All I Wanted was a Slurpee
Lunch was at Kings Beach, a place I spent a couple of summers as a kid while I helped my dad build a cabin in the area. I remember one summer when I was 11, my older brother Gary convinced me to ride our bikes over to Tahoe City so he could meet a girl. At the top of Dollar Hill there is a 7/11. He told me if I went with him (which included climbing Dollar Hill) he would buy me a 32-ounce Slurpee. I had to walk part of it back then but I made it. (He still owes me a Slurpee—like a typical big brother he duped me and when we finally made it to the top he just kept riding.) More then 20 years later I made it to the top without having to stop (reverse direction). However this go around, at the top, Steve had a cold Redbull for me. At that point in the day—a Slurpee would have had the same motivating factor as it did when I was 11.

King's Beach was awesome. It was littered with bikes, had a DJ playing classic rock, and a fresh fruit buffet in the shade. I was not hungry—which was an early sign of a problem to come. Steve managed to eat his sandwich and my sandwich. I stuck to the fruit. People ranged from the walking dead to dancing in lycra (hard to shake your booty in lycra—nothing moves). I was not dancing—I had everything my momma gave me sitting on a park bench—resting before the Spooner climb.

A Heaping Spoonful of Pain
The tightness in my back had not released even after resting for longer then planed at the lunch stop. In my previous rides the back pain would ease up by just taking a few minutes off the bike. But all things considered, I had a lot of push left in my legs, my tucass was good to go and I was still smiling ear to ear at mile 75—thrilled with my accomplishment thus far, the people I was meeting, and the view while riding around the lake. And then my world shifted.

By mile 80 the back pain had turned in to a full back cramp—running up and down both sides of my lower back. The lack of water consumed earlier in the day and not getting some salty food in my belly at lunch—left me wanting for electrolytes. At mile 82, I hit the first climb of the 8-mile climb known as Spooner's. With cramps in my back—breathing became even harder and the more I road, the less air I was finding at the higher elevations. This is a bad equation.

There is nothing pretty to report for this part of the ride. With every push of the pedal, the muscles in my back got tighter—it felt like the muscles were wrapping around my lungs—making my breathing short and fast. And the bottoms of my feet were getting pretty raw from pushing on the small clip-in pedal platform. It felt like I had a humming bird trapped in my chest.

Spooner kept serving up challenges mile after mile for what felt like forever. I went from averaging 15 mph to 4 mph. The weather on this side of the lake was much warmer and there was not a lot shade. It was ugly. I left everything I had physically on the Spooner climb. I was nothing short of exhausted when I finally got to the downhill portion at mile 88.6.

King of the Down Hill
Reaching a top speed of 44 mph down the 6-mile descent of Spooner's, my little heart was racing for all the right reasons. I love going fast—but I knew I did not have all of my wits about me after grinding up the 8-mile climb. So I feathered the breaks around 44 mph and took it back a couple notches. It was still a blast. The mass of riders took ownership of the right lane on a two-lane highway. For the first time in 2 hours, I was passing people again, breathing normal and smiling.

I knew I had three more small climbs ahead of me—so I took the downhill time to stretch my calves, neck, shoulders and back. No one told me how hard it would be on your neck. If you think about the position you are in for hours upon hours—you are constantly holding your chin up to see the road. After 8 hours, my head felt like it weighed 100 lbs.

Picture of a downhill grade in Tahoe "stolen" from Sammy Hilali — what is great besides the view in this picture, is the fact he went back the day after the ride (JUNE 5TH) to take a picture of the downhill portions of the ride. Which makes him too a "King of the Downhills" in my book.

Ten More Miles
The last 10 miles of the 100-mile loop had three little climbs that continued to rock my little world. As much as I enjoyed the downhill—my same physical ailments, mention before on Spooner's, came rushing back immediately on the first of three little hills. My back cramped up, my feet were raw and I was having a hard time breathing. I could see the Casinos around the bend of the lake. I knew I was close—but not eating lunch and not getting enough liquids—left me high and dry with ten miles to pedal.

Insert adrenaline! (and Rocky Theme Music) My body found another gear and pushed forward. Running on empty, cramped up and stiff, I found myself pushing up and down the hills and getting closer and closer to the Casinos.

8 hours and 45 minutes later, I crossed the finish line.

My parents were among hundreds of other supporters, and riders there to cheer people on as they crossed the finish line. It was a great feeling to finish and even better to get out of the saddle. Steve warned me that I would feel sick when I was done—and sure enough my stomach was turning. I collected my patch and pin for completing the 100-mile ride and headed over to my truck.

What Goes Down Sometimes Goes Up
My parents were kind enough to drive me back to the hotel and get me a cold bottle of water. As we headed up the windy grade to the hotel at 8K feet of elevation—the feeling of sickness was only getting worse. We parked and unloaded my bike and headed to the hotel room. My parents had never been to the hotel—so I was showing them around. I had an urgent need to see the inside of a garbage can (not part of the tour) as I let go of whatever food and water I had in my stomach. The impressive part—I managed to open the garbage can lid that had a bear latch on it to keep wild animals out. I am sure that not even the wildest of animals would want to get to what I left in the can.

I got to the room. Brushed my teeth and showered. Within an hour, I was feeling better and ready to head back down to the Casino for the after-ride celebration.

I said it before—it was an epic achievement in my life and I could not have done it with out the support of friends and the coaches from Team in Training.

Head TnT Coach for Silicon Valley Karin Jeffery


A special thanks to Steve Asche who helped me change my lifestyle to include working out, eating right, signing up for Team in Training, cycling and sticking with me every mile on my big fat ride.

June 4th was my one-year anniversary of when I committed to changing my lifestyle. I have lost 90 lbs since that day. I have a long road ahead of me. Stay in touch and read the blog to see what I do next. I have big plans and I am sure they will put me in situations and outfits that will cause a giggle and maybe even put us on the same path.

Scott