I am a slow walker, but I never walk backwards: Abraham Lincoln.


Well this past weekend was the Whiskey Off Road 50, in Prescott, AZ. This race is like a mini Leadville 100. The Whiskey 50 is, as you would guess, a 50 mile mountain bike race. Well it’s more like a 50 mile torture fest that will test every facet of your mountain bike skills and intestinal fortitude. This was my first year racing at the Whiskey 50 so I did not completely know what I was getting myself into. I had heard the rumors and the horror stories but until you actually race the 50, you cannot completely grasp the difficulty of it.

I started off in the middle of the pack of over 300 riders and as we navigated our way through the back neighborhoods towards copper basin road I worked my way up into the lead group. I must say I was rather surprised on how well I felt. I kept telling myself “back off, it’s a long race” but according to my heart rate I was not working that hard. The pace was steady but as soon as we hit that steep section of pavement the boys got separated from the men. By the time we hit the dirt I got passed by about 5 guys or so, but as we hit the single track the order was pretty well sorted out. To my surprise though, on trail 48 I was climbing like a goat. I never felt like I was working that hard and as we hit the water bars I was passing rider after rider who were having fits trying to negotiate all the water bars and rocks that were riddled throughout the climb. I did manage to clean all but one water bar.

As we crested the top and the trail turned to the downhill section, at that point I felt like I had wings. I was in my element at that point. I was jumping every water bar and trying to double every whoop that I could. I managed to pass another 8-9 guys before I got to the bottom of the climb and then had to repay the mountain bike gods for that great DH section. As I climb up FR53 towards the Skull Valley out and back interchange, I still felt good even though I got passed by 2-3 guys.

The descent into skull Valley is awesome, there is nothing like doing 30-40 mph on a fire road. As the lead riders were coming back up the road I was able to determine that I was somewhere in the top 50. At the turn around I was still feeling good and I had a nice conversation with myself in which I told myself just it’s a long way back up, so just settle into a nice easy pace. Unfortunately that was the last civil conversation I had with myself from that point on. At approximately mile 28, I started to feel like I had no power left in my legs. My stomach and legs started to cramp and my mental stability was starting to waiver. I struggled to try and keep the pace up and the harder I tried the more I faded. The worst part was that I was so far ahead, all I was able to see was strong riders go by and it appeared to me that the only one, who was suffering WAS ME!!!

Somehow I was able to drag my sorry carcass back up to the aid station where I tried to put as much food into my body as a fat guy at the all you can eat Sizzler. I was hoping I could come back from the dead and salvage what dignity that I had, but I was done! I left the aid station and felt like I was on a death march to the top of the mountain. The entire way I had to stop every 2-3 hundred yards because I cramping so bad. At the top I started the downhill push into Prescott. This was not a fun descent. I was so tired that I could barley hold onto the bars. What made matters worse at one point towards the bottom the trail parallels the fire road. It was torture I wanted off the trail and off my bike so bad and to know the road was just to my left was torture!!! I will say though once you actually get onto the road it was like a fresh breath of air.

The road winds its self aback into town and you think “is this thing going to ever end?” BUT then you make the turn onto the finishing straight and you are able to look down the road and see the enormous finishing stage and as you make you way across the finishing line you are greeted by the overwhelming cheers from friends and family who have all been waiting to see their favorite rider(s) come across the line. It is one of the truest feelings of emotions one could ever feel.

So how did I fair? Well…..for the first 28 miles I ran in the top 50 and for the remaining 22 miles….. Well let’s just say I found out what I was made of inside. For that last 22 miles I felt like I had nothing. I felt like I had no energy, no strength, and no motivation. Maybe….Maybe, BUT what I did have was pride, will power, and determination and in the end that is why we go out and suffer in a race like this.