2023 - Desert 100

Published 2023-07-16

Images from https://stumpjumpers.smugmug.com

It's official, I'm damn near the slowest man on two wheels.

461 - Doug Brown Snohomish, WA - 30-39 years old - KTM - 2 Laps - 06:33:15.056

How to Prepare to be this slow

capturing this so I don't forget for next year

Workout

Sometime around Novemeber '22, a Desert 100 prep group popped up on facebook and at the same time a local rider went and rode the Baja 1000 as an Ironman with only 6 weeks of prep in his 40s. I’ll likely never race a race of that magnitude, but I figured despite sitting at a desk for a living I could get in shape for 100 miles and a few hours if THAT guy can do 50+ hours on a bike. Yea, I over-estimated myself.

I could have done a lot more but generally from December-March:

• I worked out 3-4 days a week
• Rowing 30 minutes
• Used a heart monitor to have an idea of if I was in cardio/vs fat burn zone
• 20-30 min - “cooldown” ride a stationary bike (I switched this up and started primarily riding)
• Raced 4 NMA Offroad short course races in the weeks beforehand. The weekend before the D100 are back to back races also hosted in Odessa about 15 miles away. I bruised a rib and sprained my thumb on my throttle hand at those races.

This helped me a lot, but I wish I had pushed harder. Specifically, I wish I had rowed for an hour or more in a single session on the weekends more frequently. Of course, riding more would be a great workout but the reality is I can’t ride 3-4 times a week.

Supplements

For 2 seasons I dealt with cramping mid-race. I would hydrate like a fish beforehand with water and sport drinks but still have my legs cramp up in only a 90 minute race. This was until I found out about salty sweaters. Everyone loses sodium and other electrolytes at different rates, some much faster. An electrolyte deficit is mostly the cause for cramping, so I tried some more concentrated electrolyte supplements during the races in the 6 weeks before the Desert 100. I saw a dramatic improvement.

I drank a gallon a day the two days prior to the race. A 20oz bottle of liquid IV that morning. I had hydration bladders prepared with Liquid IV and Ryno Carb Supplements. One for lap 1 and another for lap 2. I took Ryno pills (additional electrolyte, 383mg sodium + others) in line for the race and another set in the pits. I avoided supplements with caffeine. I had a 5hr energy that morning, but I wanted control of how much caffeine I’d have since it dehydrates.

It worked! In 6.5 hrs I had no cramping.

• Ryno Electrolytes Supplement (pill)
• Ryno “Endurance” Supplement (pill)
• Ryno Carb Supplement - long term energy - In Hydration Bladder
• Liquid IV - In Hydration Bladder

The Race

Lap 1

I got one piece of advice from a Desert 100 veteran. Don’t race to the holeshot unless you actually believe you can get it. People get hurt piling up there. I don’t, so I didn’t. Since my shoulder injury I’m less keen on getting into 4th or 5th gear on the bike. Crashes happen fast, and I remember feeling tendions snap in my shoulder. Ick.

I walked to my bike and rode my own race across the square, where 922 riders were funneling into a gateway that must be only 20ft or less wide. When I got to the gate there was a large traffic jam to my right, and I got to sneak through. Races aren’t won at the beginning, but it always feels good getting to get through jam with ease.

The dirt was great, it had rained Friday night so by Sunday the dirt was still pliable and the dust was minimal. Despite that, the sheer number of riders means even if you are good enough to ride fast, its damn near impossible early on in the race unless you were in the first few hundred riders through the gate. For me, there weren’t many traffic jams, just a lot of riders to work through. It’s rattling to see all the fast riders take off the line and disappear into the sage brush, to then pass some of them crashed out and unconscious a few miles later.

The first lap was hard. I crashed in the silt pits 20 miles in. I just had a low-side washout. I knew there was a line of bikes behind me so I tried to tuck my head in towards my knees (kiss my ass goodbye), but this didn’t stop the rider behind me running me over. His front wheel hit my head and he crashed a few yards away.

“ARE YOU OK!?” - I gave the thumbs up. I was fine, the Leatt 9.5 (carbon) did its job. I’ve been concussed before, it didn’t feel like that and we were all going pretty slow. He was behind me after all. My neck started hurting on lap 2, I don’t think it was related and I felt fine the next day.

I took two breaks 1st lap, my hands hurt and I was out of breath and I was feeling sorry for myself. The mantra for the rest of the race was “don’t stop moving” or some such morale boosting nonsense. I knew if I stopped moving I’d be slow to get back at it.

Pit stop

My pit stop was slow.

I had caught glimpses of the RV camp a few times through the lap so finally pulling in was a relief. A friend of mine got hurt the day before screwing around in the square and tore a ligament in his knee so he and some other injured riders pitted for me. (Thanks, Brian, Waffles and Tyler) In about a minute my goggles were wiped, bike fuelled and hydration bladder changed.

I got off the bike and took my Go Pro off. The mount broke and it had been bouncing around attached to a safety tether for 30 miles. Annoying. I ate most of a PB & J sandwich, downed my next dose of electrolyte supplements, talked some shit and started on my second lap. The winner had just come in before I came into the pits. I had 15 minutes to get out before the course would be “closed” and riders wouldn’t be let out of the pits for their second lap.

Lap 2

It was a huge morale boost knowing the track ahead and riding out of the pits into clean air. Dropping into the silt and letting the 2-stroke scream on the hill climbs without anyone else around to bump into was a welcome change. I felt good, no cramping, minimal soreness. No more go pro bouncing around hitting me in the chin.

I have a 2-year old son and another on the way. I kept thinking about how I could explain to them why finishing something like this was important to me, especially now that I knew I’d likely be nearly the last to come in. Finishing is both meaningless and somehow profound. How do you explain to your kids what grit is? I would finish this race because of my will (and a running bike). All I wanted was to be done and eating a taco and having a beer, but I didn’t allow quitting to be an option. Had I stopped and a course sweeper caught me, I would have been directed to the nearest checkpoint and my race would be over.

There are no trophies for last place. My likeness won’t be on next year’s t-shirt or sold on posters in vendor row, but who the hell cares. That’s what I want my kids to get. Things worth doing aren’t always easy and they don’t always come with an award.

My mood changed a bit a few miles later and I began playing the “one more mile” game. Just keep moving. I know my average speed went down but I know I would indulge too long if I stopped for a break. I was beat. I was sitting about 90% of the time but standing for the hills climbs. The whoops were killing me and my neck was hurting. Bargaining & prayer kept me moving. The bargain: Tacos & Beer. The Prayer: not being caught by the course sweepers and having my race end.

I was forced to stop once for the bathroom. I had held it for 80 miles and it wasn’t going to be possible to keep going with how much water I had been drinking.

Probably the coolest moment in lap 2 was on the final deep silty hill climb. I came around the corner into the silt with no momentum. There was a blue machine about a 1/3 of the way up hitting the rev limiter. Brapapapapapapp. The bike rising up with the RPM but sinking back down, an exhausted rider next to it. They were throwing their arms up and looking around. I stopped for a moment. Got into 1st and tractored up the hill. I saw we had an audience at the top. Stump Jumper volunteers camped out to watch the carnage. I should have focused more on modulating the clutch instead of looking their way. I killed the bike a few yards above the frustrated rider. “God Dammit”. If you ride, you know starting halfway up the hill with no momentum is probably the worst way to take a hill. I hit the E-start. Throttle. Clutch clutch clutch. I got a cheer from the orange clad volunteers when I shot over the top. They knew how relieved I was to not have to fight the hill the way the rider I just roosted for the last minute was having to. Ok, it wasn’t that cool but in that moment it was cool to have someone else sharing the small victory.

A few minutes later, on the home stretch it began to snow. Visibility was bad. I had ran out of roll offs. Snow flakes were sticking to the goggles but without them I was getting stung in the eyes. Slowed down, squinted, just kept moving.

I rode in through the zig zag of the queue, over the stage, hammed it up for the crowd, and rode off to get my finisher tchotchkes. The only t-shirts left were small or XXL. Neither are my size. A few feet away from the table I dropped my bike and had to have a spectator help pick it up. I was sloppy. I’ll be back next year in better shape, with a better go pro mount and hopefully I’ll be handed a shirt that fits.

Learn More about Stump Jumpers Desert 100!

Facebook Group for Desert 100 prep

Tacos El Rey Taqueria