Whipped by the Wendigo (And I don't mean Lois)

Warning up front....may be a little shorter on the ha-has on this post than usual.  Last week was quite the daunting week.  I'm told there is a stinkin flu going around...well I struggled through it last week Tuesday to Thursday.  Yummy...sorry Paul....(apparently I spread it to BicycleWorksPaul...who is just getting over it now after a 5 day stint...but now his bowels are cleansed!)

Friday came, and I wasn't yet 100% but feeling much better...just in time.  As Giant and I loaded up and headed north to the Ottawa valley, for the Wendigo, an Ultra Endurance (90km; 45km out and back on the same trail) Fatbike race, starting out of Cobden, Ontario.

We had Giant's Ford Escape loaded to the gills with all the necessary gear...

I'm sure there is a cat in there somewhere...

Anyways...we overnighted in Pembroke (just north of Cobden)...and woke up Saturday morning (raceday) to this....

Holy Mother of Mercy!!  I don't believe I had ever ridden in temps colder than -15...and that was brutal.  So we layered up like crazy, (actually it was a tough call, it was supposed to warm up drastically in the mid-afternoon, then cool just as drastic late afternoon)...and headed to Cobden...at least the sunrise looked nice along the way...

Sorry, it getting too artsy and emotional....and sorry again, cuz it's gonna get worse...


We get bikes, and gear ready...

Or at least Giant does...while I apparently stand around like a dipstick...
And then we head over for the mandatory gear check.  Mandatory gear, which includes (amongst other things) minimal calories and hydration, a pealess emergency whistle, an emergency bivy bag and sleep pad, multiple blinky lights (to be obvious to snowmobilers), and reflective surfaces...

As we see the other racers getting ready, they have impressive gear and bikes.  They are experienced and hardcore so we know we are in a tough crowd.  Then the prerequisite riders meeting (rules, etiquette, lawyer stuff....blame our lawyer friend Unglued...).  Then a start line photo to commemorate the first ever Wendigo...

And we were off...
The first obstacle started immediately...with an 11km crossing of Muskrat lake.  The route had been 'groomed' with a cross country ski groomer, but the majority of it was soft an squidgy....like riding through 6-10 inches of sugar.  It was, ride for 20 feet then fall or step off....ride for 20 feet then fall or step off...or just get off and run the bike.  An energy sucking nightmare that left the legs depleted and shot 5km into a 90 km race...and when Giant and I eventually (2 hours) did make it to the end of the lake crossing together, our leg muscles were shot.  Giant and I had ridden much of the lake crossing in 2nd and 3rd place, but positions changed continuously as riders looked for more rideable lines...and we came off the lake somewhere in 5th or 6th place.  We took a moment to gather ourselves, and let pressure out of our tires in an effort to get better traction.  We even posed for a pic...

Letting air out to gain traction, which we did repeatedly throughout the day trying to find that magic pressure...

The group crossing the lake...

Me and Giant crossing the lake (another artsy pic....)...

Dave...coming off the lake crossing, still smiling...

Alexis adjusting air pressure on the lake crossing....

BrunoSuperstar (yes selfnamed) struggling at the end of the lake crossing...

Jack, who was in second place for much of the race but had a mechanical that caused a delay, and he eventually finished neck and neck with Alexis for 4th and 5th place...

Greg the eventual race winner....barely...

The running man.  This guy ran the half ultra, 45km (22.5km out and back).  That is some serious shite in these conditions.  And to give you an idea how much we were struggling on our bikes, this guy passed us running on the lake crossing!!

At least there were goats.

Seriously, coming off the lake bed we passed through a farm yard where the goats greeted the riders...

So...finally off the lake, through the farmyard, and onto a twisty mountain farm road.  2km of steep climbing, on already spent legs.  But it was almost pleasant because it was on well packed completely  rideable road...as long as you could keep the legs churning.

Then onto glorious gravel road!!  We hammered!!  Giant and I took turns pulling....passing the running man who was well on his way.  It was so good to actually ride, and to be able to ride fast (well, at least fatbike fast).  But it was shortlived....we were done the short gravel road section in minutes.  Then we turned onto rail trail...for the next 50 kms...mind-numbingly straight flat rail trail.

And while there was the occassional packed section like this...

Most of the rail trail was exactly like the lake crossing.  Soft and sugary.  Ride, slip, step off...ride, slip, step off (or fall)...adjust pressure....continue.  We did manage to pass a couple of riders.  And occasionally we would find a line that was a little more packed by the riders ahead of us....then a skidoo would come along and tear the line apart...and we would start over...

We were both running out of energy quick...but I was depleting faster...and eventually Giant rode away from me.  As the sun rose, so did the temperature...up to -5....and all of the intense effort combined with the slow speed had us sweating buckets in our -20 degree gear.  I drank (had lots of water), and ate....but I was depleting fast.  And I had a pervasive feeling, for the entire day, that I had to  use a washroom (that euphemism for dump)...but I didn't...I was empty.  Must have been a hold-over from the flu days before....but it made a very, very difficult ride even more uncomfortable.

I was struggling.  The riders we had passed earlier passed me back.  Then I was alone...no one ahead...no one behind.  Ride, slip, step off....ride, slip, step off.  Pull over for a skidoo....continue.  Continue.  Continue...for hours.

Then there was Greg...he had been to the halfway checkpoint and was heading back.  "Three km to go to the checkpoint!", he said....trying to encourage me.  But it was the worst, softest, deepest 3 km of the race.  It took me almost an hour to traverse.  There was Jack...chasing Greg down...but he looked beat...and was struggling mightily on the very soft trail.  Then there was Andrew...then Giant.  He stopped to tell me I had about a km to the checkpoint/turnaround.  He was wiped.  He said he was going to hammer as hard as he could to catch as many as he could before he quit.  He was as upset as I was...and unsure as to how much he wanted to continue...but he did.  He took off hard on the gas...to see how far he would get before calling it.

I continued on...met Alexis who said the checkpoint was just minutes ahead...and there it was...finally the checkpoint in sight....over 5 hours into the race.  Dave1 and Rodrigo were just leaving the checkpoint as I refilled my water...and topped up on food.  Perhaps I could find some energy reserves, and catch them, I thought.  I dropped my tire pressure to near nothing (was about 2psi).  I would either flat out, or be able to stay on the trail.  It made staying on the trail easier, but it made for a slower, even more intense push.

There was BrunoSuperstar coming into the checkpoint as I headed out to try to catch Dave1 and Rodrigo.  I never did....but little did I know, that they soon DNF'd....they had had enough.

Then there was Dave2...walking through the sugar.  I told him he was almost to the checkpoint.  He said he was calling it there...he was done.

I continued...but my tank was on fumes.  I had to stop to stretch...and to drink...and to eat.  I didn't have the energy to ride while eating/drinking anymore.  Bruno passed me...I scolded myself repeatedly...I should not have been this wiped.  Yes, conditions were beyond extreme, but my training and nutrition were going well.  I was either having an off day...or still feeling the tail end of the flu...or these conditions were just not my forte...either way...I was bottoming out.

I continued...sometimes riding...sometimes walking....just to keep going and get it over with.  Then the temperature started to drop....fast.  My chemical toe warmers and hand warmers were running out.  I started shivering while sweating....thinking, this can't be good.  Just keep going....keep moving.

Then it started getting dark.  I turned my bar light on...afraid of getting smoked by a tired snowmobiler (the blinkies were required to be on permanently).  As it got colder, and darker, I got even slower...more and more chilled...shivering uncontrollably...and I knew...with 25 km to go....and the cold, windy, dark lake crossing still ahead, the smart thing to do would be to call it.  Lois would kill me if I died out here, or even if I lost limbs...and I realized that out here in the middle of nowhere, that was a distinct possibility.

Disgusted at the naivete, arrogance, and lack of foresight that put me in this position, and literally sick to my stomach at the realization that I was considering quitting, I reached for my phone...and it was gone...my heart hit my throat!!  I couldn't feel it there in my pocket!  It must have fallen out on one of the falls I had in the soft shoulders...   Then as I pulled my hand out of my pocket, there was my phone...floating there in my hand.  What sort of mirage was this?  I pulled the glove off my other hand and grabbed my phone....sure enough...it was real.  Apparently, my fingers of my right hand were so frozen I could not even feel the phone.  Seriously, all tactile and proprioceptive (nice big word use, eh??) senses were gone...

(some guys might be tempted by a numbed hand...'the stranger'....but luckily I don't think that way...)

Anyways....that locked in that quitting, as galling as it was...was the right thing to do.  I called Cameron, the race organizer, and he had a truck come to the next gravel road to meet me...I was done.

Back at the start/finish I jumped in the car that Giant had graciously had warm and running.  It took forever for me to stop shivering...and somewhat warm up.  But what had happened with Giant after we parted on the trail??  He hammered...he passed guys.  As much as he considered quitting, he kept hammering afraid of getting caught in the dark....and he kept going, and passing guys that were spent.  He hit the lake crossing while it was still light, but starting to get dark.  He ended up sprinting Greg to the finish line...coming in second by mere seconds!!!  Seriously!!!  He ended up damn near winning the whole thing!!  You can't help but have so much mad respect for this guys toughness and resilience!!!  He may become as famous as this guy...

Anyways, this story, like this race, is going on way too long.  I didn't finish....but I survived.  And, if nothing else, I learned a lesson.  I am pissed off now.  As much as I said to myself during the race that I would never do this again...I will be back...I will have to beat this thing.  The Wendigo won this time...but I will be back to kick its ass.   I will whip it like a kitten...

So...-20 during this race....come home to +20 temps this week.  What a country!!

That happens sometimes when you get older...

Anyways, if I wasn't ready for the race season before...I am now.  Nothing I have planned...no solo 8 hours, no summer solo 24s, no Ocups, or XC Marathons can be tougher than this was.  Barring mechanical or injury, I will not ever quit a race again!  I'm amping up the training, I will actually rest on rest days.  I will follow the nutrition plan to the letter.  Never again!  Bring it on...I'm ready!  Look out!

Stay posted!!

Fk U Wendigo!