Wednesday, 17 July 2019

Tour Divide 2019 - Why would you do it again?

This was compatriot and TD vet Paul Lester’s response when I caught up with him recently and suggested I was thinking of having another run.  He should know, after all; having completed the race in 2016 he backed it up with another crack in 2017, where I rode with him intermittently on the day into Holland Lake.  In 2016, during his first attempt, he was ambushed by mud in New Mexico, which really blew his race apart, and I suspect he wanted another opportunity to squeeze a better time out of himself (and he did, 27 days to 22:22!).  In part going faster was my reason too, along with the fact that there is just so much amazing scenery to absorb.  

In 2017, I felt handicapped almost the whole journey by one thing or another.  I think I was in damage control from the end of day 2 when my left achilles blew.  The adjoining ankle then became incredible tender (probably related).  By day 4 I noticed my hands losing their dexterous power (insidious ulnar nerve compression), and in northern Colorado an aspen crashed down just in front of me on a windy descent and I skinned the right side of my body and badly sprained my right groin.  On arrival at Antelope Wells I could barely walk 50 m.  I was a real mess and took 4 months off the bike to let my hands recover - then promptly broke my collarbone, thus wiping out the rest of 2017! For almost 6 months solid I would catch the bus to work (rather than ride) thinking about the Tour Divide, and how for those three brief weeks I never felt more alive.

Before my 2017 run I’d estimated I’d need 20 days (~220 km/day).  Anita would fly out from Oz and meet me at the scheduled end before we’d retreat to California to catch up with her sister.  Although way behind early, I somehow managed to keep the wheels turning and grind home in 20 days 19 hrs (~208 km/day) - a great relief to be roughly on the mark, although I would have loved to have come in under 20.  In hindsight, 20 and change was a pretty good time given that I basically had no idea what I was doing or any real perspective of the route or the town frequency/layouts (I only hotel’d 4 nights) - coupled with the brutality of the Koko Claims reroute, heaps of snow, very heavy conditions in the first week, and my accrued collection of physical handicaps. That said, weather wise, apart from that first week and nasty NM headwinds I had a pretty sweet run.  Weather plays a huge part in this game.   Hence, going quicker might not be trivial.  A similar or different barrage of problems may await.  Am I really prepared to surrender myself to the mercy of the random affliction and weather generator, and its requisite hurt-box?  For reasons I cant quite explain… yes!  I’ve barely stopped thinking about the experience - it’s challenges and the commensurate satisfaction of having completed the task last time.  Now into my 50thyear I wanted to give it one another crack, and maybe become cured.

One thing for sure though, I didn’t want to finish in the same mess as in 2017.  I needed to convince myself (and Anita) that I could prevent some of the ailments that got me last time - namely hands and achilles.  Hands appeared to be the simplest to fix.  Cylindrical foam grips were swapped for the flared Ergon variety, and I added a set of tri-bars to provide different positions for hands and back.  I wouldn’t have believed how much faster the position is until I tried it, so there was that advantage as well.  Achilles was unlikely to be so simple.  I introduced some running, on and off-road, into my training in an effort to strengthen ligaments which otherwise don’t see a lot of torsional or impact stress.  On top of learning how to use KT tape, and starting with cleats fully retracted, I hoped this would be enough, although I expected some aggravation at some point, especially as Koko Claims would once again feature. 

As far as the camping rough part, which I don't mind, apart from the whole terrifying large carnivore thing, I went into this year’s race having actually researched the route properly, which was much easier having actually done it previously.  Before TD17 I found the complexity and length so daunting I really only had an inkling of how I might get through the Canadian sector, and the rest I’d have to play by ear, which in part is what made it such an adventure, including missing the crucial turn just after cresting Boreas Pass.  In 2019 I would have a better idea of when to push, when not to, and whether a target was worth it or not.  Scrutinising every inch of the route from satellite would, of course, take some of the mystery out of it, but to some extent that is gone anyway on the second running.  That said, once on the ground, in the wilderness, alone, life is pretty raw and anything can happen. 

Fingers crossed, and see you on the other side.

 My rig, ready to roll
Some of the other more colourful setups - in this case with Arizona state flag motifs
I'd be swapping Anita for bears for the next 3 weeks

Beautiful Banff
Traditional bad weather rolling in the night before the start

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