Brett slugging across the Rockies Photo by Garry Edmundson

I am often asked how I get over this, hiked through that, crossed that river, made that dramatic climb. I honestly don’t think that I do anything different than anybody else out on the trail. I treat every physical obstacle as a separate problem to be solved and then relate its cost to the overall picture. Upon entering a difficult section I have concepts of what might solve the problem. Yet, until I see the physical nature of the problem, I keep a very open mind of what might be the best answer. What follows is a collection of my approach to the first four days, sprinkled with other stories that I have been able to bring together about my peers.

My partner and I were having a straight-forward race regarding our equipment until his freehub stopped freewheeling on day two. He was forced to continue pedaling at all times, which included a steep downhill at speed after the pass, over waterbars, never to stop his pedaling otherwise his rear derailleur would risk being ripped off. His brakes were heating up from checking his speed and he had to completely change his perspective on how he approached any obstacle where he wanted to shift his weight on the bike. He couldn’t level his feet to brace for impact of a waterbar otherwise the derailleur would back-feed and get ripped off. Other than slower pace off the pass, we managed well.

On day three my brake pads were giving off telltale signs of contamination and by day four they had become anti-lock brakes. I was having difficulty hiking for I use the bike as a crutch and with inoperable brakes I would slide backwards, making it difficult to get up the hill. Matt’s brakes worked superbly, so he would stop on hiking sections, where we would trade bikes so I could hike with his machine. He would push my bike until it became rideable, and we would trade back.

Later that day with brake pad and rotor contamination I gave up checking my speed when we hit the mud sections at end of the day, which inadvertently helped me carry more momentum through thick, clay-like mud. In the midst of that same day I noticed the mountain streams water levels were high. I brought this detail to Matt’s attention, for we had a major river to cross at the end of the day. My strategy of utilizing the bike as crutch in possibly waist deep, rapid, current might not work. When we approached the river they had strung out rope with help steady racers. So no problem, I utilized Matt as a crutch and we hobbled across the river one step at a time.

I had a bit of apprehension regarding the seismic lines of day two and three. The stories of aggravated Achilles tendons and abandoned riders made me apprehensive of my damaged tendons in my elbows and remaining left foot. The seismic lines are notorious for going straight over hills and mountains with no switchbacks or reasonable grade in sight. Day two’s seismic difficulty never materialized due to some changes in the course.

When we arrived at the first major seismic line for day three we surveyed what we could see. I quickly came to the conclusion that there were rideable sections intermittently sprinkled into the hike. Thus began a game of riding into the redline/anaerobic, get off and breathe, hike until the foot needed a release, or the upper body loaded up with lactic acid, breathe, find another section to clip back into the pedal and again ride into the red for as long as possible, start over. As I noted before it worked superbly. We were able to summit the two major climbs without aggravating the tendonitis in my elbows, or making my upper body so weak I would be unable to hold onto the bike, or more importantly, leaving my left foot inoperable from strain/nerve compression. The above method for the seismic line allowed me to evenly fatigue all the parts out on the body, muscles in particular, rather than a specific area. Both Matt and I found great joy in riding trails and working the single-track in its variety. We were constantly finding faster lines, sliding around, riding every section we could rather than getting off the bike. This helped me immeasurably by decreasing wear on my foot, elbows, ankle, and hands while keeping me psychologically motivated yet mentally disengaged from the strain my body was undergoing.

Will I go back? Yes, I can consolidate the mechanicals to certain amount of time lost, sickness cost me another section of time, and my lack of training in very specific areas cost me time and recovery. I see an opportunity to go faster next time. It’s part of the curse and charm.

Everybody experienced the incredible views, the different environments, the failures, the successes, the dirt, the fun, the challenge...the camaraderie. Day one was a drawn out warm up, day two we started climbing, day three we hit the jackpot, day four back on course with more adventure and trail textures, day five checking account of fuel was overdrawn...but the trails were fabulous and made for faster day than my body should have really produced, day six head cold took hold, yet no fever therefore the views up on the ridge couldn’t be missed, day seven back on the program, fun technical single track with a finale of some nasty root/rock filled descents to make this mountain biker happy to see the smooth texture of pavement.

Editor's Note: For more stories about Brett's epic adventures, check out:

Trans Rockies 2003
La Ruta: First One Legged Finisher

-- Written by Brett Wolf