Iron Mountain 100k

56 miles of grinding gravel climbs and tooth-rattling rocky descents.

I'd never ridden down in the Damascus area, but I will definitely be making return trips.  The mountains are big and the trails are gnarly.

Joe Fish, Travis Williams (aka Metro), and myself made Paul Leeger drive us to Damascus on Saturday, where we stayed at the Hiker's Inn right in the middle of town just a few short blocks from the race start/finish.
We jumped on our bikes when we got there and headed up the Virginia Creeper Trail to spin out the legs.
The Creeper Trail is a rail-to-trail path that starts in Damascus and runs up into the mountains through rhododendrons and pine trees alongside a trout-filled, rushing stream.
It seems that all activity in Damascus centers around riding bicycles on the Creeper Trail and hiking on the Appalachian trail or on nearby Mt. Rogers, the highest peak in Virginia.

As we rolled back into town and off the Creeper Trail I realized my tire was rubbing the chainstay on every revolution of the wheel.  We pulled out the spoke wrench and twisted a few nipples before realizing i had a broken spoke.  No wonder the back end of the bike had been feeling so flexy the last few rides.  Fortunately Travis had a spare spoke that fit and the wheel was ready to roll for the morning.

After picking up our packets we met up with Francine Rapp and Jennie Whedbie and hit Quincy's, one of only two restaurants in Damascus, for some glycogen building.

Race morning rolled around and Travis took a 45 minute shower.  Then proceeded to explicitly describe exactly why it took him so long to get ready.  If you know what I mean.

The race started with a lead-out through town and onto the Creeper Trail.  Those with a chance of placing well took off and the Regular people bunched up, got in each others way and splashed mud and horseshit all over each other.  The shenanigans continued as the race turned onto singletrack and went straight up a wet and rocky chute.  The type of climb that takes some concentration to not pinball around and end up sideways.   A lot of pushing and walking happened as it just took too much energy to pick through the rocks and all the people.  My glasses fogged up and immediately and I couldn't see the trail anyways. I saw Paul stopping to put some air in his tires because bouncing around in the rocks had burped his rear tire nearly flat.

At the top of the first climb we turned onto some smoother, but still rough, ridgetop trail that was fast and fun.  Francine, Paul and I ended up riding together for most of the first section to aid station 1.
The descent into aid station 1 was screaming fast and dropped us out onto several miles of paved road.  At this point Francine took off and Paul dropped back.  We saw each other again at Aid Station 2, but not again after that.  The trails into aid station 2 were gnarly, rocky, slippery with leaves in spots, wet in spots, and of course real fun.

The aid stations were awesome.  Station 2 was manned by a bunch of 50ish burly biker dudes making peanut butter sandwiches and handing out "pink hippie powder."
I rode by myself for most of the rest of the race.  Up until the last 12 miles the ride consisted of long gravel climbs followed by fast technical singletrack descents, over and over.   On the longest of the climbs I ended up alongside a girl from Asheville who ended up in the top 5. Riding along someone else helped me keep up pace and moral.  This was one of the only parts of the race that was in the sun, adding to the beatdown.

I rolled up to the last aid station, downed some coke and pretzels and was told there only 12 miles to go.
That's only one lap around JRPS I thought, and headed out happy that I was going to finish this feeling good and without any major problems.
The last bit of trail was up and down on singletrack and some jeep trail, ending with a screaming fast, flowy, but loose and rocky descent with so many water crossings we might as well have been riding down the stream bed.
Right at the top of this last descent, I heard a rider come up fast behind me.  I indicated that they should come around me if they wanted since they seemed to be feeling antsy to get to the finish line.
About 300 yards down the trail, he finally passed me and it was a guy out on his own ride, not racing, on a long travel bike, with no helmet, and he was out of sight immediately.  I tried to keep up for about 3 seconds, but he knew the trail and was launching off things and plowing over rocks that the ol' Stijl doesn't have the suspension for.

I crossed the line and the lady at the table said "7:15."
Sweet, I was done. Longest race I'd ever completed.  And maybe the longest distance I've ridden on a mountain bike in one day.  The last day of the Colorado Trail tour was somewhere around 50 miles but took a lot longer than that, pushing 40 lbs of bike and gear over 12,000 ft peaks.

Joe and Francine were already chowing on cheeseburgers when I rolled into the park where the post-race festivities were held.  Joe was already showered and had gotten a haircut.  He had finished two hours earlier and came in 6th place overall.
Paul and Travis pulled up about 30 minutes later.  Travis had somehow ended up off course and spent an hour riding down a paved road away from the race.  His version of the detour involves 20 miles and 5,000 feet of extra climbing, and at least 3 beers drank before rejoining the race course.


Paul and Joe and I stayed at the Hiker's Inn a second night before heading to Blacksburg on Monday morning for a quick recovery ride and a massive breakfast at Gillies.  
We only rode for 45 minutes on the Pandapas pond trails outside the 'Burg, but it was the most fun 45 minutes of riding i've done in a while.  The descent down snakeroot trail is a buffed out, bermed roller coaster that flows so well you barely need brakes.


After another 3 hours in the car, we were back that the park and ride, and I got to go back to work, where I got berated by my boss wearing shorts and smelling bad.


Great trip, Great race.  Wish I had some pictures.