Disclaimer 1: This is a long race. Really long. Five hundred plus miles long. The better part of two days long. So the blog is also long, would be long even if I knew how to be brief in writing (which I don't) or I didn't feel passionately about the subject matter (which I most definitely do). So if you were looking for just a "so how'd it go?" update without any real interest in a thoughtful and complete answer to that question, check out the facebook updates posted during the race. But if you came to relive the event with us in salty scalped, chapped-lip, saddle-sore, sweat from your pore(s) detail (which is really the only reason to blog about it in the first place) well then you've come to the right place.
Disclaimer 2: If you are looking for an objective evaluation of this event or a critique of the people who promote it, this is not your blog post. After returning to it for the fifth time I am far past neutral reporter mode, the fact is I Love this race and am probably its biggest homer* even though it has pushed me to the breaking point (and on more than one occasion beyond that point) every time I've done it. It is crazy-fun in the way that you have to be a little crazy to find it fun. So many reasons for that, first and foremost it's a bike race, so I'm already interested. Second there's the landscape which is literally world renowned. People come from all over the planet to drive these roads, hike these trails and see these sights. Third, it's a road trip with three other people with whom you will share an experience that will bond you to them in a way that only the shared suffering of '525 grueling miles-one goal' can. And finally it's the people who organize and support this 'kick off the racing season with a bang' event every summer: the Rockwell family (Daniel, Cort and Jeff Stewart, Tyler Servos, Michelle Lyman and all their kids, cousins, aunts, uncles, in-laws and out-laws) it's as if every year a member of their family gets married and we are all invited to celebrate for an entire weekend with the June Bride & Groom. If you come away from this race without a feeling that you've been adopted into the Rockwell Clan, it's because you didn't spend any time talking to the people wearing the event staff T-shirts.
*possible/probable exception would be Fat Cyclist and that's only because he's done it an equal number of times and his blog reaches a larger audience than mine by a factor of a Gajillion (yes Gajillion, with a 'G') and he practically sponsors the race or vice versa. So if I'm number 2 on that list I'm OK with that. I've got a dozen Rockwell T-shirts and several bib kits, my vehicles are festooned with Rockwell decals and I own every finishers ring they ever made. He's clearly a much more popular writer and ridiculously faster rider than me, but I can match him blow for blow in Rockwell homerism.
I can't love something this much and not want to share it with everybody I know who enjoys cycling and encourage them to try it out for themselves. This is especially true when it comes to my wife Jennifer who loves cycling, loves racing and loves riding with me (most days). You would have to ask Thad if his experience was the same, but from the first go-round in 2011 I wished I could ride it with Jenn. She observes a strict 'no overnight races' policy the reasons for which are myriad and mainly involve her not wanting to destroy friendships by confining herself to tight quarters on very little sleep and poor nutrition while doing something that's not just physically demanding but challenging even under ideal conditions. Rockwell does all of those things (in spades) so Moab to SG seemed like something we would never share but that changed last spring when she decided the feather her cap was lacking was The Triple Crank*. Since that time we have been planning (and training) for this weekend (and truth be told worrying on an unspoken level that it might all be a really, really bad idea). Whether a bad marital decision or glorious bonding experience we are here, no turning back now. Nowhere to go but forward.
*see previous blog posts
For those not familiar with the race I have lifted some info from the holy Race Bible:
Moab to St. George – The Rundown
June 12-13, 2015
What is the Rockwell Relay: Moab to St. George? It’s taking 3 of your buddies and cycling, non-stop, from Moab to St. George. One teammate in the saddle at all times makes for a ‘never forget’ experience. Covering 525 miles of majestic beauty, it is a ride that only invokes a sense of awe. It will test your mind, body, and soul.
The race begins in Moab, UT on Friday, June 12 at 7am | 9am | 11am. Start line is at Swanny Park. The course will follow the scenic backroads of southern Utah, traveling through two National Parks and Utah’s most beautiful landscapes. The race will continue through the night into Saturday until each team reaches the finish near downtown St. George, UT at the Bluff Street Park. Total miles traveled will be 525.
Each team will include 4 cyclists. Each cyclist will ride a total of 3 legs of the course. The average of each leg is 44 miles. Cyclist 1 will ride Leg 1, then at the first exchange switch off to Cyclist 2, and so on until all 12 legs are completed.
Each team will include 4 cyclists. Each cyclist will ride a total of 3 legs of the course. The average of each leg is 44 miles. Cyclist 1 will ride Leg 1, then at the first exchange switch off to Cyclist 2, and so on until all 12 legs are completed.
As you can see from the route map, there are no straight roads between Moab and St George.
Also, and perhaps more importantly, there are no flat roads between those two points either, as the elevation map so aptly illustrates. It looks like a heart attack* if this were an electrocardiogram tracing and those peaks don't lie. The route takes you over, around and through at least four mountain ranges, several river valleys and lots and lots of desert. For future reference (and for those who like to code by numbers and colours) the blue parts are me, Jenn is red, green legs are Thad's and the yellow peaks belong to Kim. It's like one big game of Sorry (Ha! that just occurred to me and it's perfect, only when Jenn says it it comes out as Sore- Ree... That's Canadian linguistic critique number one, three is the limit for this weekend and given the circumstances 0-1 might be a better range, she's a generally good-natured Canadian who is about to be starved of food deprived of sleep, exposed to the elements and prevented from showering after multiple workouts. Don't push her).
*OK, really it looks like Ventricular tachycardia trying for asystole, either way things aren't looking good for the patient
So without further ado but before we get to the riding let's meet Team Taking Turns With Spouses*
*The playful double entendre team name which is de rigeur for events like these got more uncomfortable chuckles and sideways glances than I thought it would have. It's an overnight bike race folks, not a lifestyle statement. Just so we're clear.
First up: Thad aka 'pickle juice'. He's the team Captain, team coach and team wrench. There are no broken bikes or malfunctioning bike parts on this team. There are only bikes and parts he hasn't had a chance to fix yet. That's the wrench part. As the coach and fitness guru he designs and monitors team workouts. He's earned an unofficial graduate level degree in exercise physiology, has read all the same books, blogs and websites as Jenn has and does. If the two were married neither would ever, ever get any sleep. Just sayin' (but they would both be in wicked-good shape all the time).
Steve (me) I'm the climber of the crew, mostly because I'm willing and up until this year I was the team member who was least challenged by the physical laws that climbing mountains on a bike represents. An affable attitude and above average cardio prep (buried inside an above average sized frame) will only get you so far, however. In this crowd it gets you across the finish line in a time that's about one standard deviation below the mean. I'm also the resident shutter bug and historian. I love writing about riding almost as much as I love the race itself. At some point I'm going to have to either step up my power output, tighten up my prose or be relegated to team bus driver.
This is Jared, Thad's friend and former co-worker. This is what a climber looks like. Thad told me I should be able to hold his wheel out of Moab and probably most of the way to Monticello. Spoiler alert: That didn't happen, though we did leapfrog their team for the next day and a half, mostly when Kim would pass their #4 cyclist and then Jared would catch me on the next big hill (again).
And finally Jennifer and Kim the rookies who are actually seasoned veterans with half a dozen marathons (including qualifying for Boston), twice that many half marathons, several century races and a Lotoja finish on their collective resumes. You would be a fool to dismiss them as merely eye candy, though we kinda hope that's what the competition is doing. That said (and with apologies to Rodney's irrepressible charm and winning smile and Josh's nicer than the ones the pros ride bikes and designer bib kits) the team has experienced a serious aesthetic upgrade in 2015. Both of these women are not just serious athletes but also talented, well rounded, well spoken individuals with fingers in more pies than I have time or room to mention. That said, until early last week Kim was still finishing her third year of dental school and studying for boards (which she aced, even though the result she was sent in the mail said simply and almost dismissively 'pass' but we know the truth) and Jenn is the director of a choir that will temporarily have to make do without her services. This weekend the teeth and the tenors will have to take a number because the only hurtin' that Kim will deliver will be on the Lake Powell and Bryce Canyon climbs and the only serenading Jenn does will be to the black bears and coyotes on Boulder Mountain.
One of the interesting things about doing this race so many years in a row are the traditions that are so ingrained they are almost ritualistic. This year would be different and not just for the obvious reason that there would be two more X and half as many Y chromosomes in the truck. For one, we dispensed with the leaving so late that there's nobody left at check in and no Bratwurst (courtesy Fat Cyclist, I'm not saying he's more popular than me because he shows up early to feed everybody grilled sausages but I'm sure it doesn't hurt) and no cyclists milling about and hobnobbing with fellow riders. On this occasion we left close to on time and had the chance to meet and greet friends from Relays past, like Dot and Gordon (team Escape From the Land of Entrapment) whose car broke down last year so they jumped on board in our vehicle and kept the race going while their van got a new alternator. Good to see you again D&G.
Some things you don't mess with because the tradition/ritual is soothing and keeps you grounded as we get closer to the starting gun. We go to the Moab Diner with plans to have a shake but instead end up eating a safe but forgettable meal (like always) we make eleventh hour food purchases at the local Piggly Wiggly then back to the Motel rooms for last minute bike prep and bib number management then off to bed to try to fend off the race night jitters and stockpile the last precious minutes of sleep that occurs in a fully reclined position, between bed sheets, with your legs completely stretched. It will be almost two days before that happens again. The first wave of riders (those planning on finishing in ~34 hours) leave at 7. We hope to be significantly faster than that, but leaving earlier gives you more options for working with other riders as they catch you later in the race. That and four years of doing this has taught us nothing if not the fact that the most careful and sensible of plans can be put quickly
Up next Part Two: At Dawn We Ride! (and in the afternoon too and in the evening and after the sun has gone down and after sensible people have gone to bed and after after party people have gone home and when Dairy farmers and doughnut fryers wake up and when early birds start looking for worms and when parents start making pancake breakfasts and when tired teenagers drag themselves to the table for mid morning leftovers and later when those same teenagers finally stop procrastinating and go out to mow the lawn... yeah, we'll still be riding.)
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