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Dave Nerrow's Furnace Creek 508 Report, Part 1
By Dave Nerrow
10/10/2008 |
Dave Nerrow is an accomplished marathoner, triathlete, ultra runner and ultra cyclist. He's also the owner of the top multisport store in the Boston area, Fast Splits. His latest endeavor was racing the Furnace Creek 508 - a grueling ride through Death Valley. Here's his quick report. Check out a gallery of images here.
I always chuckle when reading race reports because they remind me of Jeff Hunt’s seminal comment years back. In his pithy inimitable way, Jeff responded to the standard ramblings of “here is why the weather/airlines /stomach/bike part/drafting/pavement issues/nutrition/Euros/waves/wetsuit zipper/aerobar pad/Gatorade flavor I don’t like” conspired against the athlete to result in a sub-par performance, with… “So you’re faster than you really are?”. As such, I strive to save you from this fate if you decide to read on. Yes, this is long, but strives to answer questions I would want to ask of anyone who has done this ‘stoopid’ thing….
The Crew (see pic #1 at top)
If you have never crewed a race, or been the grateful recipient of a crew, try it. Sport and the experience grows broader and more rich with a crew. Seriously, find something gnarly and long for yourself, or help somebody else accomplish same. It is good kharma. Without my little ‘bro Steve Nerrow, McGuyver Hughes, ‘Big Daddy’ Carmen Monks (like he needs more ego) and uber racer Alec Petro, the event may have been impossible. These guys gave up 3 days of their lives to follow a bike through the desert. I am eternally grateful.
We built a customized Crew Van in order to provide on-course support. Such vans are required for nearly all ultra races in order to provide proper lighting, safety, and support for the rider. (See pic #2)
The Course
The Furnace Creek 508 celebrated its 25th anniversary this year. As such, an additional 1.6 miles was added to the course, which perhaps became my undoing (more later). So the “509.6” was the reality for 2008. The course rolls a horseshoe-shaped course from Santa Clarita, CA to Twentynine Palms, CA. Meanwhile, it crosses the entirety of the Mojave Desert, Death Valley, and enters Joshua Tree National Forest. After the first 4 miles of a parade start, the course kicks upward and into the desert, never again to leave.
Entry to the race is by “invitation only”. By this, race organizers seek to avoid thrill seekers and weekend warriors, as the danger inherent in the environmental conditions plus the distance could lead to disastrous results by headstrong folk. Accordingly, applications include race resumes and limited “why are you doing this” essays that are reviewed by a committee in advance of receiving an invitation. Obviously this is quirky, but probably the right approach. Even with 35+ marathons, five 50-mile foot races, the Western States 100, nine Ironman races, including three Iroman Hawaii’s and the 2007 RAAM, I was still nervous about my entry. Each invited rider is asked to submit a “totem” to use as a permanent animal name for the rest of ultra racing eternity. As a dedicated Simpson’s fan, I became “Spyder Pig”.
The Commentary
Well, it was just about the hardest physical and mental thing I’ve ever done. I say ‘just about’ because cycling has gravity on its side i.e. there will always be some downhill where the legs can stop moving the body forward. That said, by the end, the down hurt just as much as the up. The first 25 mile stretch climbed out of Santa Clarita in thick fog and wet roads at 7am. Riders (83 invited solos, 65 teams of 2 or 4 riders) had head and tail lights as the fog was so thick.
I had a long panic moment as I immediately found myself in about 30th place, fearing that I was way WAY out of my league. At the top of the climb, I switched from my road BMC to a custom Guru Chrono TT bike for the descent into the desert. A 50+ mph descent had me passed by even more folks as a death wobble scared the crap out of me on the way down. Post race, I was told by a recumbent rider that he hit 65 mph on this stretch! [Note: as most of you know, and in a ‘Cobbler’s Kids’ kind-of-way, the last time I rode a TT bike was the Duxbury World Champs 2007…yes, 2007. So, I climbed on Brian Hughes’ personal Chrono (not even my own) with a total of 4 miles of neighborhood cruise time in the aero position. Recipe for physical therapist disaster, say you? Not!]
By the time we were finally on the flats, I was rolling the Chrono wonderfully, feeling quite fast and beginning to reassert myself out from the middle of the pack. The Crew drew great yucks from the fact that it took me 50 miles to pass a guy “Jarrod” in baggy MTB shorts, Tevas and flat BMX pedals. I asked the dude what he was thinking about, but out on the lunatic fringe the chuckling answer of “just doin’ whats comfortable bro” was his standard response. [Note: Jarrod was DQ’d later in the race for using a prohibited RV for race support.] The winds picked up ferociously approaching hundreds of acres of windmills (gee, imagine that), and I’ll have to bet that a steady 20-35 mph cross and headwind had us all grinding in small rings at 12 mph for an hour. But the good part about desert roads is that they have very very few turns, but when they do turn, it is to take advantage of sun and wind. So…while riding 50 miles into vicious headwind was de riguer, so was riding 50 miles with that same wind at your back.
Somehow I found serious mojo after the Windmills Climb and rolled hard through Time Station 1 at 84 miles, where I was now in 14th. The mojo continued through never ending rollers that simply climbed to the sky. They were so long, so straight, and without any terrain definition that you could look at the “top” and feel like it was 10 minutes away, only to realize that it was an hour away. The monotony of these ribbons into the mountain passes was at once terrifying, but also calming in a lunatic kind of way. As I think BD aluded during his race day blog, these roads make the Queen K look like the real estate tour through Carlisle, MA.
Rolling into Time Station 2 at mile 153 the crosswinds were steady and difficult. Unlike wind off the ocean, where gusts catch the bike and throw it, desert winds are steady and hard, forcing me to ride at steep sideways angles to stay upright. Note the sideways riding angle as Brian hands me a bottle of Perpetuem. (see pic #3)
In fact, my Spiuk aero helmet came apart during a descent on these winds, with the aero covering tearing off, flopping into my face and tossing off into the road shoulder. Kinda funny, but eery too, as I rode the next 25 miles with only the black foam underpinnings of a helmet. Although, on the lunatic fringe, this appeared totally normal. (See the 4th photo at top.)
Still feeling good, I hit TS 2, Mile 153, in 11th in 7h 15m, and gaining on the field. The desert heat was pounding me, but the crew kept me humored, fed and alive. It was here at Mile 153 that I stopped for the first time (other than the quick bike switch at Mile 25). Odd to consider that the Team Psycho Harpoon B2B Ride (same distance) completed in a huge draft pack and with 5-8 stops felt like a harder effort. Climbing over the ridge into Death Valley was next, with a 10+ mile climb at 6-13% into a headwind was down the road for me. This climb was exceedingly difficult, entirely without another rider in sight, and in deafening wind. Ugh.
Check back with us for the rest of Dave's race report, and more pics!
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