Whiskey Off Road, 2007
For the first time in my life, I brought along a 20 pack of diapers to a race. After a week of hell on the side of “business” and the introduction of the most important thing I’ve got going now, Angista, Nathaniel and self rolled down to the Whiskey off Road in Prescott, AZ to take on what has to be one of the hardest moutain bike races around to say nothing of the absolutely legit, primo singletrack.
Rolling out, this years start garnered a reduced tension as it was only the 50 milers on the line at 7am. The subsequent distances, 25 & 15, would see their own line later that morning. With the heads of state being methodical, I was able to roll on high through the primo singletrack only to crack not on the ascent up from Skull Valley, but on the way down. The way down is no water slide. The fuzz of exertion never subsided from the get go even with a conservative start. I held the effort to a threshold spin for the most part and even with that, the lack of sleep or preparation of any kind for months prior was the nail in the coffin for the Gnome.
The OTC effort was thwarted…again.
One thing they make no mention of in the brochure for that race is the flies. If it’s not hard enough that the climb back to prescott is quenched in blistering sun atop baked on steep grades for 12+ miles, then the flies will test your mind of want or desire. Go slow & they want to know if you’re dying. They crawl on your face, lick you eyes and bite your neck. You feel like that guy in the Metalica video slowly going crazy with nothing to do but bare it. The ever strong Kennedy passed me at the base of the wall and as I watched him reef his ride left and right in that agonal onespeed swagger, I was thankful not to be atop similar method. It looked as obvious as it was. Nothing but pain. I’m amazed I won this race a few years back on the single speed. I’m amazed that I was able to push a 36/18 that day. Now, I wasn’t even able to turn a 26/32. Dejay Birtch bested 3rd place in the ss cat while that Kennedy knocked out a 5th.
I hit the Whiskey on gears for the first time in 4 years. Slower because I am not forced to step up, gears are a better idea for the weak of body or strong of mind. Not to say they are supreme, they provide forgiveness when physical error is at hand yet they can hold advantage when the fire is hot. Outfitted with a 38/26 front gear setup, I was only marginally spun on the descnt to Skull Valley at 40 mph. Otherwise, the cadence of a 38t is now most ideal for these legs and without the extraneous 3rd gear on the front, the hassle of shift errors & dropped chains is reduced significantly. But, at one point on the way out, I found myself relishing in the relief of a roadside ditch until Fiddy rolled up to lend coersion. We spun out from there after a moment, slowly passing the long line of sufferers on the way out. The one thing I wished they had at aid station 3 was a beer and some burgers.
In the end, licking wounds and spun out, the saunter in was with its fun as the new route back into town rolled over supreme single track. I caught up with Keith Bontrager in those parts. I asked him if this was his first Whiskey. He said yes & quibbled something of the 25 proof. Then He said damn. Then He hit the brakes. That was the last I saw of Keith.
The Whiskey harkens back to the days before the spin cycle took hold on the mountain bike racing format…before the burnout. It’s one of those races that will hurt the unprepared. It is also one of those races which, to endure & finish is something in itself to hold value nevermind the of winning it. Indeed, the Whiskey has the potential to become a world class event and I look forward to it’s growth in coming years. I look forward to next year when I can sign up to suffer excessively yet again.