Guest Blog: Austin Rattler, A Season Finale

“I’ve noticed that in life in general, and particularly in cycling, women like to sell themselves short.”

This quote by the late Moriah “Mo” Wilson has stuck out to me recently, though tragic that it’s been through the lens of her murder and unraveling of all that encompasses that story. Of course I didn’t know her personally, really at all. I don’t read a lot of cycling news or headlines.

She was a big advocate for believing in yourself and not letting the outside world tell you that you weren’t worthy of winning. And win she did. She was just getting started, and the world of women’s cycling will not be the same without her.

But that quote really stands out to me because it’s so true. It especially hits home for me. I’ve been doing it my entire life. It’s my comfort zone.

To this point, it was only a few miles into the Austin Rattler that I found myself repeating that familiar phrase: “I can’t do this.”

It’s crazy what our inner dialogue is like sometimes, isn’t it?

It was 60 miles and 6,000’ feet of elevation on trail. By far and away the longest I’ve ever ridden on my mountain bike.

I’m most certainly not an amateur when it comes to long, rather grueling races and rides. It sums up my 2022, basically, let’s be honest! This was a challenge that I wasn’t really sure how to handle, though.

Fueling on the mountain bike is so much different than on gravel or road, and so is the energy demands (though Belgian Waffle and Big Sugar definitely blurred my sentiments toward this thought a little bit). But I wasn’t completely oblivious to what was going on. I’ve been working hard on fueling this year, and I felt pretty confident that my plan would work. I’ve gotten to know myself over many long hours on my bikes this year.

Another big difference for this race is that I was joined by Andy. It’s the first time we’ve raced together, and I’ve never been able to experience that before. He is a strong rider, and he inspires me every day, so I felt a lot better knowing that we were in this together. We rode the course preview together and worked out the best spots for nutrition and hydration as well as where we needed to pay close attention so we didn’t stray off the course.

We rolled up to Reveille Peak Ranch the night before and camped in the 4Runner. Pre-race dinner was a delicious stir fry with ground bison, rice and veggies, plus gummy bears for dessert. (Yum, my favorite.) We got up early before sunrise and made some pancakes and bacon on the camp griddle. Bottles and packs were filled with nutrition and electrolytes. We stuffed gels in our pockets. We prepped the bikes and the race area.

It was chilly when we rolled to the start line. I started with arm warmers. Andy was shivering for a few minutes. We both hoped the warmup would be fast once we got moving.

The official race started at 8 am on the dot. We went in wave 3 to avoid any rider bottlenecks. It was chip timed anyway, so it really didn’t matter when you started. That also gave me a chance to calm some nerves and breathe before rolling out.

Those six minutes went by quick, though. The start was fast — everyone was cold. The first lap followed the jeep road all the way to the gate (laps two and three went through singletrack instead). Rolling through the gate and onto the first bit of singletrack, it finally hit me. This was it, we are racing!

My first lap goal was 2 hours, which I set based on last year’s top women finishers. I managed to squeeze in the lap in 2:04. Hella proud! Here’s what it was like:

The jeep road section wasn’t long, but it was quick. with not a lot of climbing. There were a few other women who started with me, so I kept tabs on them. I did not want to let them out of my sight.

There was a tiny little loop of singletrack once we got past the gate. It looped back around close to the start, and then we hit the main trail, the endurance loop.

I feel like there were 3 distinct sections of the course. I knew it pretty well because I did two preview rides, which is something I’ve never done before for a race. I definitely needed it for this one, though, and it really helped — I need to remember that going forward for other races, especially MTB.

After the jeep road, the first section was about 6 miles of steep, loose pitches. Lap 1 had the benefit of still being slightly packed down due to recent rain, so that helped with uphill speed and downhill momentum, though that doesn’t mean your strength and technical skills didn’t come into play.

When you were going up, you were going up. Just strolling through some of the grade data on my Strava shows sections of 10%, 16%, 17.2%. OUCH!

And when you were going down, you were going down. So many of the descents were off-camber or around turns. They were steep and loose. You had to be on 100% of the time. You had no other option.

The first ~6 miles were the hardest in terms of pure climbing power. After you got out of that, you entered this forest section with lots of chunky rocks. On lap 1, a lot of riders got stuck up here navigating through tight singletrack with some light technical rock garden navigation. A few riders had to dismount and walk through.

It probably came out pretty rude, but I let them know that I wasn’t happy to be stopping and walking behind them. They weren’t the first people I saw walking — some were struggling up the hills on lap 1, too — but I thought this section was pretty easy so I was mad they were threatening my time goal.

There were some hills here, but more descent. One of the descents went through this super sketchy creek bed with insane rocks. I took it pretty fast and seriously thought I was going to get yeeted off my bike. It was terrifying, quite frankly. But whatever, I guess we made it through unharmed. I don’t think I was the only one who thought I got lucky on that part!

Once you get past there, the course kind of opens up. This was the “part 2” of the trail that felt a little speedier. The pitches weren’t as insane, but the terrain was markedly different. Loose dirt turned to loose sand and gravel with enormous granite batholiths sprinkled in.

The sand definitely slowed you down. As a small rider (who is also not very great at navigating sand), it was easy for me to lose all of my momentum almost instantly when rolling through it. Of course, some of that we self-imposed by braking, but to me staying upright was more important trying to blast through and hope I didn’t crash.

Riding on the granite batholiths is wild. Of course the stakes are high — that shit is hard and firm and textured like sandpaper, so you do not want to crash on it — but it’s also very rider friendly in a way because it’s insanely grippy. Your wheel will not slip, so none of your power is lost on climbs or turns. Descents are bumpy as all heck, so you have to stay in a good position to absorb all the shock.

During our pre-rides, this section definitely freaked me out a little bit. But come race day, I felt confident and comfortable here, moreso than anywhere else on the course, actually. I really found my flow once I made it here. This was the section where I passed several of the ladies I started with. (I actually didn’t see them again after that.)

There were definitely some steep climbs here, and you had to be vigilant on the rocks to follow the course because there’s not a whole lot of places to put flags. On one of the descents, when I was behind another of the women riders, we ended up following a rider taking a bad line and got ever so slightly off course. “I shouldn’t have been following that idiot.” She cracked me up.

Part 3 of the course turns into some really flowy and fun singletrack. I knew from the course preview that you still couldn’t lose your guard here, though, because around every freakin’ corner was a huge pile of sand. (Are you starting to sense a theme here?)

Even though I did a lot of braking here, I was able to calm down, breathe, collect my nerves and enjoy a little bit of relief from insane climbing and descending. It was the part of the course I looked forward to the most … minus the sand, but whatever, I’ll take what I can get.

The miles ticked by here. A few batholith climbs and descents. A little technical bump up some rocks (which got blown out from all the riders, so I actually had to bail on this one, doh!)

There were a few sketchy descents here down the granite batholiths and into sandy/rocky pits (you know, those I sure as hell don’t want to crash here kind of places). I made sure to choose a good line and had no trouble.

Toward the very end was an enormous, sketchy, winding and loose descent with a 90 degree turn right before the g-out. I kind of hate that they put that there, but maybe it helped control speed and prevent crashes, I don’t know. I understand why they did put it there, though, and it was because there was a little loop added on for some extra mileage.

That little loop was easy enough. Some tight tree gates but mellow nonetheless. It ended with a berm to g-out plus a steep pitch up. (During the pre-ride a week prior, I lost it at the top and fell into some cactus … cactus spines in your butt are no fun! But I made this one all three times during the race. I didn’t want cactus in my butt for 60 miles!)

And then — the climb back up, out the gate, to the jeep road, and back to home. As much as you wanted to relax here, this was the smoothest you were gonna get all day. Might as well send it, right? So I flew back to the start line, stopping at our little aid station at the car to refuel.

On to lap 2!

I wanted to keep that 2-hour-per-lap pace, but the course was so different the second time around. First of all, there was the addition of the singletrack at the very beginning, and it was slightly technical with even more climbing, so that slowed you down quite a bit. But by then the course was also so blown out. What was smooth and grippy before was now so loose and dusty. Climbs were slower. Descents were slower and more sketchy. I went as fast as I felt that I could, but I knew it wasn’t going to be as fast as before.

During the pre-ride, I knew that I had to fuel those first few miles well because of how taxing they are on the legs and your sugar stores. That was my main focus heading out of lap 1 and into lap 2 — to not get depleted there because it was definitely easy to do.

So while I may have slowed down as the conditions changed, it allowed me to focus on nutrition and how my body was feeling. I’m always hella worried about cramps, and who wants to cramp on a 17% pitch?

Not this girl!

The second lap was where you really had to psyche yourself up. You’ve seen it all before, and you know exactly how painful it is, oh and you’re not even on your last lap so the only thing you have to look forward to is doing it all AGAIN. But I think this is where fueling is the most important, and so I kept my focus on my body and how I was feeling, trying to remind myself to keep drinking, eating and breathing, and to find rest for my legs as much as I could.

For lap 3, I swapped my CamelBak bladder and grabbed as many gels as I could. (I saw some extra on the table that Andy didn’t use and I got so excited.) There was no room for nutrition error. It was now hot, dry and sunny. I needed electrolytes and sugar if I was going to stave off cramps. I needed a bump of caffeine to help focus. I needed to keep it together. I needed it all.

Heading into lap 3, I turned my thinking around. I started the race telling myself that I couldn’t do this, but by the third loop I was telling myself that there was no way in hell I wasn’t going to finish. Hell no I am not quitting. We are seeing this through.

A lot of shit hit the fan on this last lap, though.

While overall I did well, there were a few things that derailed me pretty hard.

On one of the climbs in the first part of the course, I was stuck behind another rider climbing one of the super steep pitches and the slow pace made me have to dismount and push my bike up. I hate doing that. I lose so much momentum. Of course, it wasn’t a huge deal, but I still lost my flow for a little bit because of it. I made sure to get around them as quickly as possible.

Things were uneventful until they weren’t. With about 7 miles left, after I spent so many miles stoked about how I was going to finish strong, my derailleur had a rough shift and tried to eat my chain. I hopped off my bike, uncertain if this meant I was going to be walking 7 miles out or not. It took me a minute to see that it was just a slipped chain due to all the gunk on my drivetrain, and I was able to get it working again. I did make sure to granny shift slowly and smoothly for the rest of the day, though. I did NOT want to have to walk out of there.

And then, just when I was so confident that I was going to ride right to the finish line without any issues, I hit a tree with my bars and flew off. It was right on that sandpaper granite, too. I remember falling thinking that that was the last place I wanted to crash. I was sure I’d be pretty beat up. After a moment to assess, everything was fine, though. Hardly a scratch, even. I don’t know how I got so lucky. I bruised my palm for sure, but I knew it could’ve been worse.

That one definitely caused me to slow down as I approached the final little bit, though there honestly wasn’t much to slow down for at this point.

A loose switchback climb out. The jeep road in. Then there it was, the finish line.

For some reason, I was hyperventilating a bit on the jeep road. I really had to calm myself down and focus on slowing my breathing. My lungs hurt from allergies and dust and the hard-as-hell effort of the day, along with some crazy anxiety after the crash. I did manage to get it under control though, thankfully. I had no lingering issues.

Crossing the finish line was a blur. I powered hard toward the banners. Someone cheered for me but I don’t know who it was. The finisher table had the medals. Someone gave me a Coke.

And then I saw Andy.

Just like at Big Sugar, he was there to grab my bike because I could literally not hold it up myself. All race long I was looking forward to seeing him at the end. It was one of the few things I could really focus on after passing the finish line, heavy with fatigue and extremely dazed. I couldn’t have done this without his support and encouragement, knowing that he would be there to catch me when I could barely hold myself up.

I dug so, so deep. This one took a huge toll on me, that was obvious.

But I made it. We made it.

Now I can rest.

It’s been a week now, and now that a lot of the fatigue is out of the way, it’s nice to reflect on the whole experience.

Do I love this kind of racing? Yes.

Do I still love mountain biking/trail riding? Hell yes.

Do I want to do this more or less than I am currently doing? I definitely want to put more resources into technical skills and improvement on my trail bike (also my gravel bike).

Do I still love bikes, and riding, and racing, and doing crazy epic shit on two wheels, even if scares the hell out of me?

I can’t imagine my life without it.

No need to sell myself short ever again. This race definitely proved I am capable and strong, beyond all the self doubt.