901110 0950 901030 0935 ROW90: The RAAM Open West, quailfier for the RAce Across America The experiences of Vance "Old Fart" Vaughan and his ace crew: Amy "Toonz" Smolens Bob "The Chef" Kridle Elaine "The Chief" Mariolle Executive Summary: 0 Started at 0800 PST on Saturday, 27 October in Valencia CA. 0 Finished at 2119 PST on Sunday, 28 October in Twenty-nine Palms CA. 0 512.4 miles, 508 officially (required to drive a 4+ mile stretch of dirt road) 0 37 hours, 19 minutes elapsed - 36h 19m official time (3 20-minute mandatory stops are deducted from the total time) 0 6th place overall (25 started, 10 finished) 0 1st master (riders over 50 - 5 started, 3 finished) Official Finishers: Place Number Name Age Time 1 20 John Stamstad 25 30:33 2 176 Premananda Childs 45 32:47 3 1633 Gerry Tatrai 26 33:25 4 1503 Robert Rye 31 34:29 5 L25 Tom Davies 46 36:04 6 L68 Vance Vaughan 50 36:19 7 9 Ken Bell 42 41:45 8 L23 Ted Epstein 55 44:29 9 298 Charles Hanson(*) 60 46:31 10 36 Mary Burns 28 47:44 * double by-pass surgery 2 years ago! My progress through the timestations and distance: Time Dist- Time Elapsed Overall Masters Station ance Time Place(*) Place 1 85.2 1322 05:22 19(57) 2(10) 2 157.3 1757 09:57 18(2:07) 2(30) 200 12:57 3 257.1 0050 16:50 11(3:07) 1(+39) 300 19:45 4 331 0707 23:07 8(4:02) 1(+1:28) ?341 24:00 5 388.3 1105 27:05 6 1 400 27:47 6 436.6 1558 31:58 5(4:52) 1 500 2020 36:20 Finish 512.4 2119 37:19 6(5:46) 1 * 19(57) means I was in 19th place, 57 minutes behind the leader Details: The race started in a parking lot near the hotel. There was a small crowd of cyclists, support crews, and officials. I chatted with several people but didn't fix on any. Spoke with Jeff Born and his brother Steve. Promoter Chris Kostman got the 5 old farts to come to the front and then Mary Burns, the only lady. We took off. Bikes and cars took a different route for the first few miles. Jonathan, an old acquaintence from RAAM and professional skater, showed up and skated the "closed" section with us. When we got to the Circle K where we joined our pace vehicles, I changed to the disk wheel and tightened the cleat bolt in my shoe which had come undone. I came close to losing the bolt before I had a chance to tighten it, which would have been nuisance. Due to the repair break, I got out dead last, but only by a few seconds. At least I knew exactly where I was. The route starts up a long (10 miles) gradual climb, which spreads the riders out pretty fast. I picked off a few of the old farts and Mary, made my way up to about 19th place by the time we got over the top. My heart was consistently up around 170 (I was wearing the monitor), which seemed very high, but I couldn't or wouldn't slow down enough to let it drop. Damn near hit a truck in California City. Had just gotten into town, the road had widened to four lanes. The van had gone ahead to the time station. A white pickup was entering the street from the left. He should have seen me. The truck came slowly onto the road and seemed to be making a left turn, but then he just kept coming and coming until he was right in front of me. I had to brake severly and I cursed at him. Time Station 1, 85.2 miles, 1322, 19th place Rolled by without stopping. Almost quit that first day, at about the 100 mile point. Struggling, cramping, not having any fun. I had been slightly ill on Thursday and I just didn't feel right. My heart rate seemed unduly high for the level of exertion and speed. 400 more miles just seemed like a long way to go while suffering - that was still further than I had ever ridden before. I discussed quitting with my crew. At dusk, we stopped to put on the lights. Mary Burns was catching up with me, her crew pulled up behind us and asked permission to park! I took a crap. That improved my outlook a bit and I got back on the bike. I decided to ride at least into the second time station at Trona. Time station 2, 157.3 miles, 1757, 18th place Trona was a big lift. A twenty minute mandatory stop. Elaine, Bob, and Amy hustled to get the van together, I got adopted by Jonathan and Cindy Staiger. Sat in a lawn chair, got my legs rubbed and tons of advice. It was swell being made such a fuss over. Elaine got me out right at twenty minutes, only a few minutes behind Marion (the librarian), the last remaining master in front of me. Marion had beat me to the time station by 30 minutes, but spent extra time on the ground. It was dark, it had cooled off, and I could see the flashing lights of other rider's vehicles on the road. Felt really good after the break and the food, got down on the aero bars and rolled. Picked up a rider after a few minutes, but it wasn't Marion. There was a string of 6 or so riders visible ahead and over the next hour or so I chewed 'em up and spit 'em out. When I caught Marion we were on some awkward hill with traffic or something and Elaine told me to jump on it and get past his car and into his lights, which I did easily. I asked him how it was going, but he didn't say much, not sure if he was pissed or uncommunicative or just working hard. We left our little string of riders behind and started the climb up Townes Pass, elevation almost 5000 feet. I was still cramping damn near anytime I did anything. If I stood up, I paid with calf cramps. My quads would cramp. I had new and different cramps that I never experienced before. My faithful crew had analyzed my diet as we left Trona and discovered that there was no salt in the Pro-Optimizer, which was all I had eaten since 0700. We started supplementing with Rehydrek and it would eventually work, but Townes pass was a bit of a chore. I switched to my other bike with the triple to climb the hill. Thank God for my Grandpa gear. I was ground down below 50RPM even on it. With the gears on the Brink bike, it would have been at least an ordeal, perhaps impossible. I could only stand for a few seconds before the cramps got me and it was pretty slow going. Fortunately, the evening was sweet, there was a quarter moon, Orion was rising, and my spirits were OK in spite of the problems. I could see another set of lights well up the hill ahead of me. At the summit, I stopped briefly for a long-sleeve jersey, changed bikes, and rolled. The descent into Death Valley was a thrill. Amy, driving the chase van, did a good job of keeping the lights on me. I don't know how close behind me she was, but I didn't worry about it either. Occasionally, I would fly out of the car lights and into darkness, but the road was pretty predictable and there was enough moonlight that it didn't really slow me down. As we got near the valley floor, I caught the lights in front of me and rolled by. I said hello to the driver and hello to the rider. Didn't get much response. I have to tune that technique, it's worth spending a few minutes to say hello. Turned out to have been Jeff Born, friend of Scott Terriberry, with whom we took a ride some years ago and gave advice for his brother Steve, who was about to do RAAM. They had both spoken with me at the start and now I blew by with a very unsatisfactory exchange, I didn't even know who they were until after the fact. There was yet another set of lights visible ahead as I left Jeff behind on the basically flat run into the time station at Furnace Creek - elevation minus 252 feet. Time station 3, 257.1 miles, 0050, 11th place John Marino was there. Amy had been looking forward to waking him up and parked the van right behind his car where he was sleeping. That gave him a front-row view of me changing my shorts and fixing my bottom, but I assured him it was just a bad dream. I urinated for the first time since I started riding 17 hours ago. The evening remained mellow as we left Furnace Creek and rolled along the floor of Death Valley. I felt good, but my butt was starting to bother me, I couldn't stay down on the aero's for very long. There were still lights ahead, beckoning. Our van lights had gotten into trouble. The flashers had quit, a problem which remains unsolved to this moment. We got dispensation from Kostman to run with the mars light. In his place, I probably would have insisted that it be fixed before the vehicle could continue to follow me. Chris may be not hard enuf on these things, but we were thankful. Dawn found us starting the long climb out of the Valley. I was reasonably comfortable, except for not being able to stay down on the aero's. I switched bikes back to the climber. We started to catch up with crews on the ground. I think a lot of people were just burning out, not able to stay on it. I passed Mark Dawson sitting by the side of the road. He passed me back before the top of the climb. I could see several other riders on the hill ahead of me. Time station 4, 331 miles, 0707, 8th place There was another mandatory 20-minute stop at the time station at Shoshone. Jonathan and Cindy were there and I was happy to report that the cramps they had helped me with at Trona were a thing of the past. I toweled down (very unsatisfactory, not enuf water and the towel was smelly) and changed my jersey. I rolled out, leaving the van behind to tidy up. On the road, I realized that I was very cold and I was on the wrong bike. When the van picked me up, I changed bikes but I had already warmed up, so the clothes situation had solved itself. The run into Baker was a bit of a drag. I caught Mark again, on a downhill. He called me by name, "Vance!". At the time, I didn't know his name. He got on it and passed me back. We exchanged positions several times, I got to recognize his two crew vehicles. We formed a bizarre and sparse friendship based on a few sentences every 10 or twenty miles. Once I informed one of his vehicles that Mike was off the bike with his other vehicle back up the road. Time station 5, 388.3m, 1105, 6th place I beat Mark into Baker by a few minutes. I was now in 6th place. Baker was a pit. It was hot and crummy. The timestation was at an abandoned restaurant, which fit the overall mood quite nicely. Roger De-Enrico(?), a RAAM groupie, was the official at the time station and asked me if I was trying to qualify to ride RAAM. I said "no" and he gave me a kindly nod and explained that I was slipping out of the qualifying window. Furthest thing from my mind. We stopped for a few minutes and it stretched out to more than was probably reasonable or necessary. Mark got out ahead of me. Elaine gave me a lime popsicle which was hard as a rock and way too strong for my tender stomach. I gave it to Roger and rolled out, leaving my faithful crew behind searching for appropriate restroom facilities. The road was hot, straight, awful desert. I was a bit low. I had picked up 40 minutes on Marion by TS3 and over an hour and a half by TS4, but I was dragging my butt. If Marion was a hard-charger and used to the heat and the distance, he could eat me up in a few hours of this sort of stuff. Roger told E et al the lay of the land to time station 6 and when they caught me, they relayed the good news: it ends on a gnarly climb. But there was much desert ground to cover before that, and a nasty wind had picked up. Naturally, it was nose-on, seemed like 30mph, was maybe 15- 20. I passed Mark sitting on the tailgate of his van. He said "It is NOT a headwind." We had been back and forth for the last 100 miles and I enjoyed Mark's company. I tended to pass him like this on the ground, but this time would be the last - the next time he passed me, he was in the car. I was sorry to see him quit. The promised climb comes into view at Kelso, where we passed L-25, Tom Davies, on the ground. He got on and followed and we raced up the hill. E was "micro-coaching" me, in Bob's words. Tom kept surging after me, but I was climbing nice and steady, sitting and standing. I held him off. Time station 6, 436.6m, 1558, 5th place The climb ends where the pavement ends at TS6. Here, we drive for four miles. Tom rolled in seconds behind me and loaded and left before we did. The drive was bumpy. We got to the pavement to find Cindy the official and Tom the rider waiting out the last mandatory 20-minute period. "Only" 75 miles to go. I was pretty wasted, I had climbed hard and had now been on the bike over 30 hours. I wanted to talk to Tom and congratulate him, but the time slipped away and it was time to ride. I rolled out with him right behind me. I instantly got cold and asked for a long-sleeve jersey from the van. They pulled ahead to park and left me with Tom. I dropped back and spoke with him briefly. We congratulated each other on the climb. He commented, sort of a question, if I was over 50. I said "yes" and he said "I guess you've got the master's division locked up". I said "If I don't die" and he said "You're not going to die" in a friendly-but-exasperated tone. The van stopped, I stopped, and Tom rolled out of sight while I put on a jersey. It was a beautiful long downhill, miles. Even counting the stop, my average speed got up well over 20mph before we bottomed out. I started losing concentration, would drift off into some sort of nether exhaustion, could have lost it and crashed. It scared me and a little adrenaline rush restored alertness. It was the only time I was aware of sleepy fatigue, as opposed to feeling trashed, which I had been for some time. We got back into civilization (relatively speaking), on a highway with noticable traffic. I worried about the flashers on the van not working. I could see Tom's lights ahead and did a bit of chasing, down on the aero's. I caught him on the ground again and gave him an "all right!". He took up the purusit again and we started climbing. We had a replay of the earlier climb. This one was awful. It went on forever. It was now dark and I couldn't tell where the crest was. Several times, I made long efforts thinking that I could see the top, only to behold another uphill vista unfold before me. I was heavily into competing with Tom and quit eating and drinking right, a stupid mistake. I held him off, but not by much, and I paid for it. We hit the last downhill. Elaine was still pushing me, asking me to pedal, saying that Tom was making a run at me. I literally couldn't crank at the 130+ rpm that it would have taken to keep pressure on, we were going 50mph. In fact, my legs were such a mess that I couldn't really even turn idle circles to keep my legs loose. Tom caught up with me and - I flatted my back tire! It was kind of like rescue - I didn't have to race with Tom anymore. We were side by side. Elaine had told me that they were dropping back to let Tom's car pass and we were in his vehicle's lights. I warned him that I had a flat and tried to warn the van that I was stopping, but they were involved with the other car and communication was disrupted so I didn't know what was happening. Tom asked if I was stopping, I guess he hadn't completely understood that I had a flat, I said yes, and goodbye, slowed and let him go. We changed to my last wheel. I had a crap attack and didn't make it to the porta-potty in time, splattered the potty and the van. Elaine rose to the occassion and was cheerful about it, just encouraged me to keep rolling. Somehow, you don't give too much thought to this sort of unpleasant scatological stuff, just accept it and get back on the bike. I was out of enthusiasm and was very discouraged to find that we had 21 miles to go. It seemed like forever. I could see Tom's lights ahead. Again. But I wasn't into chasing him anymore. 6th place would just have to do. When Elaine pointed him out, I said I'd only catch him if he was waiting for me. We spotted the penalty box at TS7 (time station 7) ahead. (If you get a "ticket", for example by getting caught running a stop sign, you serve out a time penalty at TS7.) Tom's lights hovered near there for a while and we speculated if he had gotten a penalty (no). After the penalty box, there were 7 of the longest miles I have ever done. I pressed on as best I could, but it was without joy. The Twenty-nine Palms city limit sign was a beautiful sight. Finally a left turn on Utah, then a couple rights into an unmarked parking lot. Tom's vehicle pulled out just as we turned in and I never saw him again. He had finished 15m in front of me. Finish, 512.4m, 2119, 6th place Chris was there, with a couple locals. He congratulated me and gave me my prizes - sunglasses, some handlebars, and a promissory note for some grip shifters. We took some pictures and left for the promised Best Western Motel in the sky. It was miles away and took a bit of finding, but we did it. I limped into the shower while my idefatigable crew unloaded the bikes. I couldn't lift my legs, had to sit in the tub to wash my feet. Fell asleep standing under the spray. Totally forgot about dinner, did a face-plant on the bed and was out. Slept well, woke up proud of the ride and glad I did it.