Editor's note: This is a post in an ongoing "How To" series. Have an idea for a How to post? Let me know. And if any topics come up that I am no help at all with, I will track down someone who is!

Also see, 'How To: Get Sponsored'.

I have been asked several times how I "switched from XC to endurance riding". And I usually offer up what is probably an unsatisfactory answer.

"I just sort of rode my bike more."

Not exactly helpful. So I thought I'd go through some of the process that I experienced when I was preparing for my first endurance event. Feel free to add your own tips and ideas in the comments section.

When I knew that I wanted to try off road hundred milers as well as 12 and 24 hour events, I realized that I would not be able to simply line up and successfully finish one of these demanding rides. So I planned out a course of action that helped me be a little more prepared for that first 100 mile day in the saddle.

1. I read everything I could on the topic. I surfed forums, blogs (in fact, that is how I discovered Kerkove--the first cycling blog I read), articles, magazines, and books. I sent off emails to people who were already established and successful and asked for their advice. I became a sponge.

2. I rode my bike more. Knowledge is powerful. But putting that into practice is even more so. In addition to the regular riding and training I was doing, I tried to incorporate a few 5-8 hour mountain bike rides into my schedule. These rides allowed me to figure out how my body would react to different pacing, food and time in the saddle. I learned a lot in those first few long rides about myself. And about what would work and not work in an endurance setting.

3. I trained a lot on the road. Road riding is boring. Well, it can be. But it is excellent training. The consistency of it means you can target your power or heart rate very specifically for extended periods of time. And because you can rack up a ton of miles on the road relatively easily, it became a big confidence booster. It feels great to look back on a day and see 60 or 70 miles behind you in only 3 or 4 hours. I also did my first road century in preparation for my first off road one. It was a huge help in getting everything dialed in for an dirty hundie.

4. I tried a lot of different foods. I tried different drinks, gels, bars and real foods (bread, fruit, etc.) out on those big rides. It is important to go into your first dirt century (or any big ride) with a clear plan for how you will fuel. Experiment. Find out what tastes good after 6 or 8 hours in the saddle. Find what needs your body has during long efforts and plan accordingly.

5. I had a plan. It is important to have a goal for your big rides and races. But be realistic in those plans. I always try and set a goal that is a little ambitious, even a bit unrealistic. I do this in hopes of pushing myself harder and further. I have had mixed results with this strategy. Use it with caution! Realistic expectations will help you be flexible on race day.

6. I had fun! Riding a mountain bike is fun. A hundred miler, or a 12 hour race should be no exception. Ride the day with a good attitude. Be determined but flexible in your strategy. Roll with the punches. Ride with a smile, and you will most likely finish with one as well.

Riding a bike all day long can be an intimidating proposal. But I think you will be surprised at how well you will do. If you have been riding even somewhat regularly over the last year or two, then you are well on your way to riding for 100 miles...and beyond. Pick an event, train for it, focus on it, set some achievable, process oriented goals and go for it!

Sometimes it is as simple as lining up and pedaling that bike!

Labels: 24 hour, great divide race, how to, tips

Don Quixote was delusional. Idealistic. Insane. He lived in a fantasy world. A place where he was the hero of the story, a noble knight, capable lover, and eccentric adventurer.

Just like a mountain biker.

In each of us is a little, or perhaps a lot, of Don Quixote. We fool ourselves into believing that the world is full of giants, ogres, and evil magicians who plague the helpless, the poor, the masses. It is our sacred duty to intervene. To make things right.

But these mythical beasts are not creatures, rather they are mountain passes, desert valleys and endless plateaus. They are ideas. Small voices that whisper doubt and failure, misery and demise. Sanity (whatever that is) is the enemy. That ever blithering noise of content and sense. "Leave well enough alone" it bellows, "there is no reason in this madness!"

But Quixote was not looking for reason.

He sought after a thing which was impractical, dated, ridiculous. And he never found it. Not literally. But then, perhaps he was not ever meaning to find anything at all. He just wanted to go looking.

In my own mind, in that corner where ideology and impracticality sit together and plot against the stuffy twins of conservation and rationality, I find a bit of Don Quixote. I fool myself into believing that each new ride is bigger, more important, and more meaningful than it ever will be. I deceive my rational mind, convincing it that what is about to happen will be an exciting, romantic, even noble task. A great adventure. I've been telling myself these lies for so long that I embrace them now as fact. As gospel.

And in fact, those delusions of grandeur have indeed become tangible, their veracity gripping at my imagination. In my own mind the ride is a grand tour, a high speed chase, a vision quest. Each soul searching moment, every dark self doubting hour, every failure and each triumph is a turning point. Each a slain beast. A fallen giant. And every last one as real and corporeal as anything I have ever experienced.

Our world is too literal. There is an emphasis on practicality that is like a disease spreading through the veins of the people. Poisonous rationality corrupting the hearts and minds of man. Let us imagine more often. Let us be delusional. Let us see the world for what it should be, or could be, rather than for what it is.

At least once in a while.

With the Divide riders thinning out and finishing (or not) the route, I can't help but wonder what thoughts tyrannized their minds as they pedaled the lonely miles along the spine of the continent. What giants did they battle? What demons did they suppress? What beauty did they discover?

They return home differently. That awkward out of place-ness that follows any life altering event. They return like a seer, a prophet, as one who has seen and who knows. Only those who have been there will ever understand what that is like. I envy that misplacement, that experience, that knowledge. I want to understand it.

Or, as Peter O'Toole says, as the Man of La Mancha:

I've been a soldier and a slave. I've seen my comrades fall in battle or die more slowly under the lash in Africa. I've held them in my arms at the final moment. These were men who saw life as it is, yet they died despairing. No glory, no brave last words, only their eyes, filled with confusion, questioning "Why?" I don't think they were wondering why they were dying, but why they had ever lived. When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? To surrender dreams - this may be madness; to seek treasure where there is only trash. Too much sanity may be madness! But maddest of all - to see life as it is and not as it should be.

To those Great Divide wanderers who were lucky enough to slip into delusional thought, idealistic meanderings and irrational expectations, I salute you. I envy that sort of passion and motivation. That maniacal throbbing that pushes you to live, and to see.

Life is madness. But only for those who are not already mad themselves.



Quijote and Sancho, by Ruth Haggerty

Labels: great divide race, quixote

Unsupported racing appeals to me on many levels. But none more basic than that it is unsupported. Yes, incredible insight I know. We live in a world of excuses. A world of finger pointers. Even a world where a village will blame a corporate conspiracy for bad weather.

We blame marketing campaigns for our children being fat. We blame the President for high gas prices. We blame video games and movies when a kid guns down his peers. We blame referees, umpires, doctors, teachers, cab drivers, politicians, our mothers, our pets and our old crappy cars for all that troubles us in this world.

But nobody wants to blame themselves.

Can you see now why the philosophy behind unsupported racing is so appealing? It is a wave of fresh air in a world gone stale with rationalizing away it's failures. In a self-supported race there is nobody to blame when you can't finish. Nobody to yell at when your bike breaks down. No bad course markings. There is no corporate conspiracy.

You are the one responsible.

This is why I still get steamed about the BLM dishing out a fine for the 2007 KTR. They stuttered and stammered trying to come up with a legitimate reason for fining us. Safety was continually cited. Safety? Safety? Really? Paying a fine will increase our safety in a 142 mile mountain bike ride? I don't need the government telling me what is safe or not. Let me be the judge of that for myself. Let me decide if riding solo across the desert and into the mountains is something I can handle. If it's not, then let me be the one to get myself out.

Something that determines which candidates I vote for more so than any other thing, is the principle of dependency. There are countless programs and initiatives designed to keep people dependent on the government. I believe that the Katrina aftermath could have been largely avoided had people been prepared to take care of themselves in such a situation. Instead too many men and women waited for someone, the government, to come and save them. Some of those people may have not had any other choice. But our culture of dependency is raising up a generation of people who have no idea what it means to be self reliant.

"I predict future happiness for Americans if they can prevent the government from wasting the labors of the people under the pretense of taking care of them."


The Tour Divide, and the Great Divide Race, The Grand Loop and all the rest are small but significant movements. They represent the idea that we can be successful on our own. That we don't need a road paved with gold, cleared of all obstacles, and sanitized with parental connections, corporate string pullers and ivy league credentials to make a life for ourselves. They teach us that failure is an inherent risk. And that in facing it we will all be better off.

What we do need to be is prepared. It does nobody any good to set out in the wilderness (or into the real world) with no map, no fitness, no idea. Don't be Chris McCandless. These races encourage and require us to be self reliant. Today the Tour Divide racers will set out on an epic adventure. Indeed, the epic adventure. No doubt each of them will return, successful or not, better off for taking a risk. Together, yet alone they put themselves out there, with only their wits, fitness, and maps, (electronic or otherwise) to get them through to the other side. It's an endeavor that much of the world would look at with ignorant condemnation. But to me, these sort of expeditions are an echo of that great American spirit. The spirit of independence.

And that is a beautiful thing.

Labels: great divide race, solo, unsupported

Not too long ago I told my dad about the SPOT locator. He loves gadgets even more than I do, and so I thought he'd really like the SPOT. My mom was listening, and as soon as she found out what the SPOT was capable of, she insisted I allow her to buy me one.

"But mom, I don't think I really need one."

"That doesn't matter. You are getting one, and you are carrying it with you on every ride."

"Well let me research them a little more."

"Fine. But I am getting you one."

And so she did. I have had it for a few weeks, and I really like it. It adds a little security, but also makes it pretty fun for people at home to check the website and see my progress. As I have talked to other people with a SPOT it became clear that the driving force behind the little devices are our parents. Jill wrote today in fact that;

"Geoff's mom bought him the SPOT receiver and threatened him with future panic if he didn't carry it along the Continental Divide. Now, all he has to do is push a button and his exact latitude and longitude point is broadcast on his very own tracking site."

I know from talking to Chris and Essam that their parents were also very interested in their children having this handy tracking device. I guess parent's will never stop worrying, no matter how grown up we get. The idea of us traipsing all over the mountains, without support, and often times alone must be nerve racking at best.

My parents happened to be at a meeting in Park City the day of the '07 E12. That was the day I ended up in the local clinic with an IV stuck in my arm. I think my mom tried to talk me into a different hobby, something that did not involve pushing the limits of mind and body. Something to do with board games.

The SPOT leaderboard for this year's Tour Divide ought to add a lot of excitement to the race. The ability to see in real time where each rider is and how fast they are progressing will bring the race to life I think. Add in the audio check-ins and we at home will be treated to an unprecedented level of coverage.

And while that will bring entertainment to us, and comfort to loved ones at home, I have to wonder... does it tarnish the remote solitude of that route? Maybe. But then, maybe not.

Labels: great divide race, SPOT