Where is the line between an epic ride and a tragic ride. How long is an epic ride? How far? How lost? How cold or how wet? Can a ride be an epic if the weather is beautiful and the views spectacular? How bad does it have to hurt?
Pisgah National Forrest plays host to what's known as the Swank 65 mountain bike race, infamous in the south east for its self proclaimed devilish terrain. A grassroots organization of two fellow cyclist throw this backcountry race together under the name Mountain Goat Epics. This is the same group that puts on The Off Road Assault on Mt. Mitchell.
The race is held in the area of the fish hatchery, and starts in the Cove Creek campground. The ride covers 42 miles, or 65k, of steep trails and logging roads including the burly descent from one of the highest peaks in the park down Farlow Gap. The addition of the Farlow Gap trail, to this years course, weeded out some potential participants and lured others. I fell in the middle with a respectful fear for the landsacpe of the old mountain.
The reverence for the land was not enough to get my head around the difficulty of this ride. 42 miles in Pisgah Forrest is not your average 42 miles, and I knew that going in. But like the memory of the long descent, I always seem to forget the struggle to the top.
Cove Creek Campground warmed up to 37 degrees by the start, from an early morning 28, that we thankfully missed from the breakfast bar of our hotel. The Leman's start kicked off the ride, and after a jog through the woods we were on our bikes and into the long climb, which set a president for a long day. The word "long" can be used in front of every adjective from here through the end of the story.
I took off strong from the get go, holding a pace that I only now realize would not be sustainable for the duration. I hammered through the first 20 miles into Goulester Gap. With my head down, I missed the race tape and took a logging road to the bottom of a cove, which I was forced to climb back out of, and back onto the trail. This set me off, and it was hard to mentally recover from that mistake. I ended up pushing way to hard to catch up and by the time I made it to the first rest stop I was famished.
I stayed too long, at the first rest stop, eating everything I could shovel down. (Potato chips and cookies in the same bite.) The entire Harper's crew passed me as I stayed at the rest stop refueling. I knew at this point that I could only salvage this ride.
I strolled out, with a smarter pace this time, rocking with the headphones on. The next loop put me back in the game, after a lung busting climb up Longbranch I settled in for a long descent, blasting down through the laurels. At the bottom, I gathered my witts and climbed up to the rest stop.
I didn't stay long, I knew the next climb would be difficult. The climb took us up to 4,500' along a massive ridgeline. The gap between two peaks, named Farlow Gap,was the top of a long backcountry descent that takes you into Daniels Ridge. I came into this descent cool, knowing that I needed to ride smart. As the pitch steepened and the boulders got larger and looser, I stayed up and worked my way down passing several people. It was a particularly difficult day on this strecth of trail, with the leaves fluffy and thick in parts.
I crossed the waterfall section, carying the bike, barely recognizing the beauty of the massive rush of of whitewater. With my eyes on the prize, I kept moving through the hike-a-bike climbs, and grunted my way out of the woods by way of Daniel Ridge.
I came into the finish, claiming 13th on a poorly marked course, realizing later that I was not the only rider that wandered off the course and even the course volunteers flagged me into the wrong trail. I spent a good part of the day navigating, so when I came into the finish, I was unsure I was even on the right trail. It turns out that about 50% finished one way, and half went the other. For an $80 race, I would expect more, but who cares, it was a long day on the bike. I'll get my $80 worth from the keg...
