Photo courtesy of John Early
I have mentioned in the past that another of my passions is mountain biking. Most of the time, I ride for fun, adventure, and exercise. I tried racing a couple of times, but going racing turned mountain biking from a source of relaxation into yet another source of stress.
With this in mind, I decided I wanted to try a local event in the name of adventure. A local trail organization, the Warrior’s Society, puts on a few events a year. The biggest event is called the Pow Wow, and two race courses are offered during the Pow Wow. The toughest is the Vision Quest: a 56-mile course that includes 11,000 feet of climbing. The easier of the two is called the Counting Coup, and is 44 miles long with 8,000 feet of climbing.
The distance and required climbing are tough enough, but the Warrior’s Society throws competitors a curve by placing cut-off times at checkpoints along the course. If you reach a cut-off too late, you’re out of the race.
I decided to race the Counting Coup. The Coup starts out with an 8-mile climb up Black Star Canyon in the Santa Ana Mountains of Orange County, California. Once the top of Black Star is reached at a spot called Beek’s Place, the course follows Main Divide road. Main Divide includes many steep climbs as it follows the backbone of the mountains. Main Divide has a well-earned nickname of “Pain Divide.” It’s not fun, but it is a challenge.
The Coup follows Main Divide until the top of the Silverado Motorway, a singletrack trail that plunges into Silverado Canyon. At the bottom of the Silverado Motorway is Checkpoint One. We had four hours to reach Checkpoint One. From Checkpoint One, we had two hours to reach Checkpoint Two, which lay atop another steep 8-mile climb. After Checkpoint Two we weren’t under any more time pressure, but still had a grueling climb up to Santiago Peak, followed by a run down two gnarly singletrack trails, called Upper Holy Jim and Lower Holy Jim. At the bottom of the Holy Jim singletracks, we had four miles to ride to the finish on a rock-lined dirt road.
The Counting Coup starts early: at 5:30 am in the dark. I’m not a morning person, so the start time was gonna be tough. We had until 9:30 am to make it to Checkpoint One and until 11:30 am to make it to Checkpoint Two. Anyone who didn’t make the cutoff times was out of the race. At the end of the ride, the Warrior's Society gives out Native American-style feathers instead of trophies. Trophies are nice, but in my mind having everyone receive the same reward for finishing the race places the emphasis on the experience instead of the competition aspect. Forty-four miles is a long way, and 8,000 feet is a lot of climbing! Trophies or no trophies, a race is a race. Everyone wants to get to the finish faster than the next rider.
The balance of this blog is an account I wrote the day after the race. I’m part of a mountain biking website, which explains the screen-name references to other riders. I know several riders by their real names, but others by screen name only.
For me, this year's Counting Coup started in '08. I'd signed up but got in a traffic accident that January and injured my foot. I pulled out.
Passing up the '08 Coup gave me a full year to obsess about riding the Counting Coup and getting to the cutoffs in time. It HAD to happen this year, because I didn't want to have it on my mind another 365 days!
Despite a dose of melatonin and an Rx I take to calm my stomach down at bedtime, sleep was impossible the night before. I got up at 2:45 and poured myself a bowl of cereal. I'm a night owl, usually going to bed right about then, so the early start time was extra-tough for me.
I recognized a few faces in the cluster of riders waiting at the gate. The biting chill had us all anxious to get cranking. With the beat of a drum and some words I couldn't hear, the starter sent us off on our journey.
I spent a couple of stretches in Black Star chatting with Zippo (nice to meet you) before he and his lime green Ventana accelerated out of reach. Shortly after that, another rider went down in front of me, causing me to crash, too. I couldn't get unclipped from my pedals, and was holding myself up by one arm to keep from falling the rest of the way. "Get offa me!" "I can't!" I shoved myself up as far as I could, and a helpful soul pushed me the rest of the way up. We then helped the fallen rider to her feet, and the pedaling resumed. The sun inched its way over the horizon.
Several turns later, I met up with Jordansrealm. Jordan is my co-worker, and I knew he'd been training hard for the Counting Coup. I'd looked for him at the start, but between the pitch black night and the hundreds of bikes and riders, I hadn't seen him.
I continued climbing, pushing a pace I felt I could maintain. For me, the toughest miles are between Beek's Place and the Silverado Motorway, and I knew I'd better not blow up early. Right before Beek's, I felt the first twinge in my left quad. "No problem," I thought. "I've got an electrolyte capsule ready to go." I stopped long enough to down it, along with yet another swig of Spiz (www.spiz.net).
I settled into my chosen pace, and for a while it worked. Then the cramps got more frequent, and more severe. I pulled off to stretch. I pulled off to put on sunblock. I pulled off to take another electrolyte capsule. The cramps continued.
Jordan caught me close to the top of the Motorway. "Good job!" I offered. My left leg seized as soon as I tried to lift my bike over the guard rail, and I could only watch as Jordan and his friend Chris rode on to the Motorway.
My 22x34-tooth granny gear came in handy getting up the first slope, and then it was time to see whether my sidewalls and high tire pressure would get the best of the rocky downhill section of the Motorway. They did. No pinch flats.
My friend Mike and my parents were waiting at the bottom. I took on some water, traded in my empty bottle of Spiz for a full one, and handed off my light. After getting a roadie-style shove-off, it was time to face the steep paved section of Maple Springs Road.
The cramps came back in force. I would pedal a few hundred yards, pull off and stretch, pedal some more, pull off and stretch, and on and on and on. I'd reached the first cutoff at 8:30. It was now 10:30 and even though the second cutoff was within sight above, I was starting to sweat it. I was gonna make the second cutoff if I had to crawl! No way was I gonna think about not making it for another year.
A couple of turns from the second cutoff, a familiar face pedaled up. "Hey Kevin, what's up?" I greeted. The last time I'd ridden with Kevin (Xhuskr) was December '07 at Chantry Flat. He seemed a little surprised to see me. "How's it going?" "I've got bad leg cramps." "I've got a couple of packets of mustard if you want." "Thanks, that's OK." I had heard about eating mustard as a way to relieve muscle cramps, but had never tried it.
The final grade to the second cutoff wasn't bad, but I could only manage a feather-light touch on the 22x34 by then.
I grinned at the checkpoint staff, and emphatically pointed at my number. They nodded in reply. I didn't cry any tears of relief, but as I told myself "I made it," I got a pretty good lump in my throat. It was an emotional moment, even if I didn’t show it on the outside. Stoked? Oh yeah!
I though a little more about the mustard offer and changed my mind. I turned to Kevin. "Hey, I will take you up on that mustard." I like the taste, so it wasn't hard to down the packet.
After basking in the cool sunlight, the two Kevins mounted up and faced the climb up to Santiago. We joined up with another Counting Coup rider named Steve. With two Kevins and a Steve, remembering names in that crowd was easy!
As I climbed, I realized that the cramps had disappeared! Yeah, my legs were still feeling the climbs I’d faced on Black Star, Main Divide, and Maple Springs, but I was able to put some oomph into the cranks without getting cramps in retaliation.
Making the hard left-hander to descend from Santiago was especially satisfying. It was the conclusion of the hard climbing.
This was my first time down Upper Holy Jim, but the jumbled rocks reminded me of my favorite sections of Chilao Flat. High tire pressure made for sketchy traction and a bouncy ride, but staved off the pinch flats.
Steve didn't trust his hardtail to push full-suspension velocity on Lower Holy Jim, so he let Kevin and I go ahead on our squishy bikes. We came across a few hikers and one biker ascending the trail, but on the whole Lower Holy Jim was flowy and fun.
A few turns from the bottom, Kevin said "I've got some signs we've gotta hold when we cross the finish line. They're for an MS group I support." "Cool, no problem."
A friendly group cheered us at the end of Lower Holy Jim. OMR was among them, but I wasn't feeling assertive enough to go up and introduce myself. Next time, I promise!
The last few miles to the finish were a medley of pounding rocks and sweeping turns. The same tire pressure that saved me from pinch flats began to punish me across the rocks. Just a little further...
Just before the finish line, Kevin called out, "Stop, stop, stop!" We got the signs in position and rolled across the line. Done!
Mike, my parents, my friend Dan, and my wife Collette were there, clapping and snapping photos. Stoked again! The Coup isn't a spectator-friendly event, and being at the finish line involves a lot of waiting and wondering. It meant a lot for my friends and family to wait there for me. I pulled Collette close and whispered into her ear. "I finished." The lump re-appeared in my throat.
It wasn't until I logged onto STR today that I realized that Kevin/Xhuskr not only supports the MS group, but that he has Multiple Sclerosis himself. I had no idea! Thanks Kevin for the camaraderie, the inspiration, and the ride-saving packet of mustard.
It's Sunday night. Only 364 days until next time.