No time for rest

“At any given moment we can step forward into growth, or back into safety.”  – Abraham Maslow

I didn’t want to blow the bike up, so I wasn’t going the maximum speed of nearly 100. I had it backed down to 85. Ahead I could see what I was looking for. My van stop at 524. This was an important van stop in my planning. I thought if I could get here by one hour past dark, I would be doing good. The sun was still up.

My average speed including all stops was 33 mph. That was very fast and exceeded my estimations. I was 2 ½ hours ahead of schedule – the same schedule that had me finishing in 41 hours with 7 hours of cushion for emergencies or extra rest, or a turtle’s pace at the end.

I was very much encouraged by this fact. Trevor did the math and told me I’d finish in 34 hours at this rate, but I knew the later the race wore on, the slower I’d go. Further, I was facing the second night that was to begin in an hour or so. Thirteen hours of blackness. This is why my planning had me finishing in 41 hours, not 34.

I had planned to take a rest of 30 minutes here and get horizontal. But I did not want to take any rest during daylight hours and waste them, or before the racing trucks came through. If I was going to rest, I wanted the trucks to be coming through while I was down. Every truck that passed me then, was one I didn’t have to deal with on course.

Trucks are dangerous to motorcycles on course. Truck drivers openly admit “I wouldn’t want to be a bike rider with me driving my truck on course!” They go twice as fast as the bikes and come up on you with incredible violence. Once they pass, the four giant thundering tires spitting dust, and the wind created by the truck body itself puts so much dust into the air you are blinded.

Some truck drivers used to ride motorcycles. They switched to trucks in their old age of 30 or 35 so as to not push their luck, knowing how difficult and dangerous it is. “With age comes a cage.” Roll cage around them that is.

No truck had come through yet. Its presence would be preceded by a chase helicopter that radios down course conditions and hazards ahead to the truck driver.

My crew was excited to see me, and I was equally excited to see them. The location, where the old lady had the store in the middle of nowhere, was crowded with race vehicles and fans. They put my bike on the stand and I sat to let my body stop vibrating and try to release the tightness. I hadn’t seen the truck for 5 hours. I ate and hydrated on more than just what was in my hydration pack, which was being refilled again. I had dissolved hydration powder into water into a concentrate. We’d pour some concentrate into my pack and dilute it with water. During the day we’d throw a little ice in there too.

“Where’s Tanner?” He had led the 19 rider Ironman class for 205 miles. An incredible feat in this class of hardcore riders. Now he was “in second or third.” I was happy for him and knew he was pushing hard up there in front of me. This course and this race is so damn crazy anything can happen, and I hoped he’d stay clear of misfortune.

Kids came up and asked for stickers. Franz and Ralph obliged. John dug his fingers into my traps and arms. I don’t know how long I was sitting in the folding chair – maybe 15 minutes, but I relished in being 2 ½ hours ahead. I was getting tired now, but it was an even fatigue that I only recognized now that I stopped.

My friends were good friends. I have fond memories of the camaraderie we shared at that stop and others. The chips were down, and we all came together.

Shadows were getting longer. I changed my helmet back to the night helmet with the backup lights on it. I changed my tinted goggles for clear ones again. I didn’t put my jacket on as it was still very hot – maybe 93 degrees. I had been holding off consuming any caffeine during this race. I had energy gels, but I resisted, knowing I would need them later. I didn’t want to start the roller coaster. I decided to wait some more.

I knew what was ahead now. I had to go on to San Ignacio. In my plans, I had a bit of a rest before tackling this section. It was gnarly. The second toughest part of the course – the 30 miles before San Ignacio. It was second to the 43 miles before Loreto at mile 831. But that would be later. One thing at a time. There would be no rest right now.

I was at mile 524. The next time I could see my crew was at 607 in San Ignacio. It was 83 more miles and it would get dark again soon.

Little did I know, the Goddess of Good Fortune was about to take a break…