Quick Note: I am back from my super awesome trip across the Rockies. I’m working on material to share with you, but for now, a little race report.
The Vapor Trail 125 is an endurance mountain bike race that takes place in and around Salida, CO. Among average mountain bike racers, it is virtually unheard of. Among the best of the best, it is legendary. Having successfully completed it this past weekend, I now know why. The stats are well published on the website:
It starts at 10 PM on a bridge over the Arkansas River at 7,000 feet elevation. Participants ride through the night, and most of them through the entire next day never dropping back below 9,000 feet until the last 8 miles. The course draws a large circle through some of the highest mountains in North America. There are multiple high points near or above 12,000 feet. There are six long sustained climbs that each can take 2 hours or more to complete.
It can rain, it can snow, it can be windy and/or cold. The night is always cold in the high country, temps below freezing can be expected for 6 hours or more. There is roughly 20,000 feet of cumulative climbing.
A couple things I might add: “…and 20,000 feet of descending, some of which is absolutely jaw chattering and wrist destroying. It can also be hot the very same day, expect to hike-a-bike several difficult miles, you might be lucky to ride with company, but expect absolute solitude, expect sleep deprivation,” and probably a few other superlatives that are slipping my mind at the moment, probably due to lack of sleep and all the toxic waste in my blood at the moment. Another thing you wouldn’t really know unless you tried to register is that they just don’t let any ‘ole mountain biking cat into this race. You gotta submit credentials, and if they don’t like them, TS. Unlike Leadville or Breck, this field size is kept intentionally small.
I caught wind of this race when Austin friend Vance McMurray said he was going to do it. Since then, it has been in the back of my head. It appealed to me not only from a challenge perspective, but also because of its underground and slightly cult status. It just has this aura about it that I had to experience for myself, and so I did.
The only real expectation I had for this race was to finish, and hopefully before 4pm on Sunday. If I was having a superhuman day, then I might focus on a top 10 finish, but, that was unrealistic knowing that I hadn’t raced in nearly a year, and my fitness was good, but not the best.
Before the race even began, a moderate headache and severe tiredness were bothering me. I hadn’t been sleeping well the week before, and the 3 1/2 drive from Durango that afternoon put me in a state of “Go to bed”, quite the opposite of “go do a grueling 125 mile race in just a little while.” I popped 3 aspirins and a lot of water, which helped a little, but that headache seemed to stick around until about 4 in the morning. The sleepiness only got worse until sunrise came. At several points along the course, I just wanted to curl up in a ball in the woods and go to bed, I pushed on though.
Pushing on is the name of the game in this race. A rider will encounter several hardships, the greatest of which I believe to be mental. The body will no doubt be submitted to great abuse, but it is how the mind reacts to that abuse that will determine the outcome. Having only pre-ridden a small portion of the course, I didn’t know what to expect on portions unridden. I am still cringing just thinking about 2 particular sections that nearly broke down my mental resolve, despite having the physical capacity to overcome them. Anyone who has ridden the course knows that I am talking about the Granite Mtn. hike a bike and the Poncha Creek road climb following the Starvation Creek descent. These aren’t the only two portions of trail that will severely test you, just the two most severe. For me, I was slowly and painfully pushing, carrying, and cursing my bike and body up that steep rock strewn rutted trail at 5am, the coldest part of the day. Luckily I was generating so much heat I didn’t notice the cold, that is, until the summit. Even after putting on every layer that I had, the 10 mile descent down Canyon Creek to the next aid station froze my extremities (still a little wet from the light rain that came down overnight) and cooled my core more than I would have liked. I didn’t care though, because the sun was coming up and I knew there was coffee a few miles ahead, plus, that downhill portion of trail is just a rippin good time, probably my single favorite part of trail in that whole race.
The climb back to Monarch pass sucked, but at least it got me to the Monarch Crest trail, which I had ridden 6 weeks prior and really like too. The dreaded Poncha Creek road climb came shortly after.
Then back up the Poncha Creek Road. Westbound. Back to the Continental Divide once more. A grunting, rocky climb to the divide. Turn your back on the descent to town and a nice hot hamburger. Just forget about that. Go back to climbing up to the spine of the continent.
This again is from the website description. How did they know I would be thinking about shortcutting it to town for a hot hamburger? The road itself is not all that steep, nor technical, but at this point in the race (about mile 92) and whatever time of day it was (it was 93 degrees according to aid station volunteers), that climb seemed to go on forever. Another aspect that really seems to add to the mental suck factor is that from Marshall Pass, you have to descend the Starvation Creek trail (granted, this is a lot of fun) only to have to turn around at the bottom and climb that stupid road back to Marshall Pass. That was a kick in the balls if ever I’ve had one. I knew that I’d be homefree, almost, if I could just crest that effin climb.
I eventually did, and after that I had two small climbs on the Continental Divide Trail and a few more on the Rainbow trail following the bumpy yet classic descent of Silver Creek, and then it was FAST pavement all the way to town. I jammed it into the 32-10, tucked into my aero position, and hauled. The smell of that hot hamburger and taste of post race IPA waiting at the finish gave me energy I didn’t know I had! I even picked up a few spots en route!
Unofficially, I ended up 27th of 66 in 17 hours flat at 3pm. The winner finished at 11am, 4 hours faster! There are some truly amazing athletes who toe the line at this event, and as far as am concerned, it is an honor just to have the privilege and the cajones to do so. To finish is an even greater accomplishment. There is no prize for a podium finish. There are no belt buckles. There is no crowd on main street to cheer you to the finish. There is only the mystique and glory of knowing that you conquered one of the hardest races on earth. As it stands, I consider this to be the most difficult race I have ever completed. I’ve done some grueling 24’s, the San Juan Hut race was pretty epic, but the Vapor Trail has ’em all beat.
This race kicks off my rather late race season this year. I’ve got some grassroots 100 milers coming up and hopefully some cyclocross. Absolutely no 24 hours of Rocky Hill this year. I don’t have the time, money, energy, or desire to do it. I need a break from that place. It would also appear that 24 hour racing might be a thing of the past for me. I’m really digging the adventure and challenge of bikepacking and point to point type racing. Rolling around in circles is a bit silly and monotonous when you think about. Colorado Trail Race, Trans Rockies, Tour Divide thrown in there? Now we’re talkin!
Check back soon and I’ll have some stuff posted about my Rocky Mountain Pilgrimage.
Caveman Greg
