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Test of Metal - June 17, 2006
Squamish, BC
A Race Report by the Evilbeaver
One unusually pleasant day late this past Autumn a group of my teammates and I went for a brisk ride on the roads in and around Seattle. The local cyclocross series had just ended, and my mind was on the upcoming mountain bike season. We spun along, discussing our race schedules and shooting the breeze as the miles disappeared beneath our wheels. Bill, the most experienced racer in the group, mentioned a race he'd ridden in Squamish called the Test of Metal.
My mountain bike race experience amounted to a few tame cross countries by that point. I wanted to try something more challenging, an event whose memories wouldn't fade so quickly. I had never visited Squamish, and I had never heard of this "Test of Metal." His description planted a seed of curiosity, prompting me to do a little research.
The Test sounded epic. The race's website (http://www.testofmetal.com/) declares:
"The Test of Metal (TOM) is one of the most successful mountain bike races in North America. The 67 km. course offers leg-numbing climbs and bone-crunching technical sections.
More than that, the TOM is an event. The town of Squamish comes out en-masse to volunteer or cheer on the racers. In its 11th year in Squamish, and with 800 spots available, the Test is always a guaranteed sell out, this year doing so in a record 4 hrs and 19 minutes."
I was one of the lucky eight hundred who secured a spot in the race this past New Year's Day. Now I get a kick out of the fact that it took less time for the race to sell out than for me to finish it. More on that later.
I figured the Test of Metal would be a nice graduation present to myself. This past year has been pretty taxing due to the death of a close family member in combination with finally finishing my bachelor's degree. I planned to spend the Test of Metal weekend up in Squamish with my girlfriend. Since she's not the kind of girl who would ever choose to sleep in a tent, we chose a beautiful looking bed and breakfast a short spin from the starting line.
The days ticked away, I put in a lot of miles, and raced a decent amount of cross country. My excitement for the Test of Metal grew. Unfortunately, my relationship with the girlfriend eroded and we parted ways. I decided against cancelling my bed and breakfast reservation, figuring a hot shower and comfortable bed would be preferable to the back of the truck my family uses to haul horse manure. I had to borrow that mechanical wonder to make the trip, as I live happily car-free in Seattle. Suffice as to say a five hour drive each way in a radio-less rattletrap truck that hasn't been washed since the late 1980s made for an adventure in and of itself. When my Salsa Moto Rapido was strapped in the newly-washed out bed the truck's value was at least quadrupled.
I arrived in Squamish Friday, the sixteenth of June, with legs fresh despite riding a pretty fast training race the preceding Wednesday. Jim and Claire, my hosts at the Coneybeare Lodge Bed and Breakfast, gave me a friendly reception. They are both mountain bikers who have completed the Test. Jim is a locally-reknowned trail builder who is a prominent member in the Squamish mountain biking community. They went out of their way to make sure I had a good experience at the Test of Metal, giving me indispensible trail beta. This was incredibly helpful considering I had never ridden the course.
The night before the race I rolled the manure truck down to the Shady Tree pub and enjoyed a delicious chicken sandwich and a pint of Stella Artois. It wasn't the ideal pre-race meal, of course, but since I was aiming to merely finish the race I figured it couldn't hurt me too badly. I returned to my plush room for the night, sucked down a few bottles of water, and slid into bed. Sleep did not come easily.
I woke to the smell of coffee brewing and the low clinks and rustlings of kitchen activity. My hosts had prepared a energy-rich porridge for breakfast that I greedily consumed. My body would need every calorie it could get for the day's effort. Another guest at the Coneybeare Lodge emerged and introduced himself as Wilbur from Austin. He has a television show in Austin that deals with wellness, psychology, and spirituality. We briefly discussed cycling before I finished my coffee and saw to my bicycle.
The Salsa Moto Rapido is a frame I'd coveted for a long time before finally acquiring one this Spring. It's a silly-light hardtail with Scandium tubing and carbon seatstays. Replete with a Fox F80X fork, XTR widgets, and my favorite Crank Brothers Ti Eggbeaters the bike weighs in just under twenty-three pounds. It is currently my only functioning mountain bike and I hoped the two of us were up to the challenge at hand.
I lubed the chain, checked my bolts, and affixed my race number. The bike had performed above expectations in its previous races and rides, and I was anxious to see how it would fare against a more technical course.
Claire, one of my hosts, was also riding the Test that day. Two of her riding friends (whom I believe were called Manouane and Sean) arrived and we rode the three miles to the starting line together, picking up another rider along the way. We arrived at the Brennan Park Recreation Center an hour before the 11 a.m. start to find more than eight hundred riders and probably at least as many spectators anxiously awaiting the gun. I positioned my bike rubber side up in the starting area in the first available spot, two-thirds of the way back.
I recognized a group of Seattle-area riders (most of whom are much, much faster than I am) and made my hellos. Another rider from my team, Brett, was up competing for points in the Hell of a Series (hellofaseries.ca) marathon race series "comprised of the three toughest and 'hellish' marathon cross-country races in BC." Brett is an animal, having already competed in the Brodie Rat Race, the first event in the Hell of a Series. He was looking to have a breakout race. He had ridden the Test of Metal in the past, and added some useful insight into what I could expect.
The very front of the pack was reserved for Elite/Pro racers, and was followed by the mass of Citizen racers to which I belonged. The energy at the start was incredible. I got a little anxious when I noticed approximately 95% of the racers were on full suspension bikes. My hardtail and 80mm fork were definitely not the weapon of choice for this event
Once everyone was astride their bikes, a moment of silence was held for a local mountain biking luminary who had unfortunately passed away in the months before the Test. Immediately thereafter the gun went off to cheers and the zip of knobby tires on pavement. The teeming throng of riders erupted onto the street, tracing its way through Squamish along highway 99 and up through the Garibaldi Heights neighborhood. I tried to make a conservative start, but it was hard not to get caught up in the excitement. The only spill I witnessed involved another Seattle rider, a really fast guy named Mike. He collided with a nervous rider who had inexplicably hit the brakes nearly as soon as the gun fired. Luckily Mike was fine, and once he he picked himself up he steadily made his way through the field.
I settled into my pace somewhere in the middle of the pack. We entered some fast rolling doubletrack that gave me my first taste of Squamish's topography. Rocks are everywhere up there. I held my position and began weaning myself off the brakes as we raced tire-to-tire on Jack's Trail up to Alice Lake Provincial Park. Unfortuantely, my tire choice (fast-rolling Hutchinson Python in the front, Michelin XCR dry 2 reversed in the rear) in combination with a grab at the brakes saw me wash out on a corner at high speed, resulting in an awkward kiss with a tree. The crash was minor, but I had to watch in dismay as maybe one hundred riders passed me before I could get back on the course.
We rode on, hitting a road in the park which made for easier feeding and drinking. My legs felt good, and I was able to tame my heart rate after the initial rush. Once we made it around Dead End Loop we encountered the hike-a-bike at Rock and Roll. This was the first of several times I'd thank myself for assembling such a light bike. Once at the top, a short climb brought us into the fast, rooty, rolling Rob's Corners followed by Cliff's Corners. Slower riders politely made way for faster ones, and I was no exception. I happily followed a very fast woman who put on a clinic of fast rooty trail riding.
The trails in Squamish are amazing. They take their trail building seriously, and every piece of trail was a joy to ride.
I picked up a couple banana pieces and a cup of water at the feed station before Nine Mile Hill. One of the most prominent features of the course, Nine Mile Hill is a soul-crushing granny gear struggle that persuades all but the strongest to just settle in and survive it. I climbed alongside another Seattle rider, Kevin, another previous Test of Metal finisher. I mentioned how good I felt. He told me we were almost halfway through and encouraged me to just soft-pedal my way up the hill. Also since this was my first Test I should be concerned with just finishing, not my finishing time. I took his advice to heart, but some damage had already been done. While climbing Nine Mile Hill, especially on the Bonk Hill section, I noticed some twinges in my calves.
I figured the twinges would go away and I could avoid cramps if I stood and pedalled, stretching my legs out as I did so. That seemed to help for a while. I made my way up Nine Mile in good shape cardiovascularly, but my legs started to revolt. Soft pedalling through the cramps became more difficult. Once I started descending the Ring Creek Rip my calves cramped terribly, literally wrapping my body around my bike causing me to crash on the fast downhill. I yelped and extracted myself from the pedals, trying to stretch my legs out and move my bike out of the trail. Each time I got back on and pedalled, I cramped again.
I couldn't believe this was happening. My heart rate was fine. I had hydrated well in the days preceding the event, and I had consumed a lot of fluid to that point. I felt like I had energy to ride fast and hard. My legs just wouldn't allow it. So, I struggled on, haphazardly coasting downhill, trying to pedal, and walking the bike when the cramps gripped me.
Other racers flew by, asking if I was alright. I replied, "Yes, I'm just cramping."
"Ouch, I feel for you! Try to ride it out!" was the general reply. So I did.
Some stretching and easy riding helped a bit. I reached the Powerhouse Plunge, an amazing downhill section lined with spectators that's currently being threatened by logging. I was ready to ride this section out, but near the bottom a trailing rider gooched my rear tire sending me off my line and into a spectator. Luckily, neither of us were hurt and I made my best cyclocross effort to shoulder the bike and hop down the rest of the descent. I remounted and rode on, but again and again my legs were wracked with cramps. Initially only my calves seized, but now my quads, hamstrings, and groin were all involved.
I nervously rolled down a forest service road section, each twinge of an impending cramp causing me to unclip in an effort to straighten my legs. Such a position was precarious and I don't recommend it. Once the course tipped back up I got off and pushed, trying to jog a bit. I swore that I was going to finish no matter what. I no longer cared that I had been on pace to ride the course in four hours, I only wanted to overcome the problem of my uncooperative legs.
I pushed my bike up the hill to the Power House feed zone to the encouragement of many spectators and volunteers. An angel appeared, asking, "cramps?" She smiled at my meek nod and filled my muddy, gloved paws with cinnamon bagle pieces. I devoured them, washing them down with gatorade and a couple of orange wedges. It was then that I noticed the many other riders around me suffering the same fate.
(I'd like to note here that the volunteers at the Test of Metal are amazing. There are literally hundreds of them, and every single one I saw was smiling and helpful. If it wasn't for their help, one, the race wouldn't exist, and two, I would have never finished this year. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.)
While I munched away and collected myself, I thought about the potential causes of this cramp-fest. This was a learning experience if there ever was one. Retrospectively I believe I made some mistakes regarding my nutrition choices on race day. I had a 2L bladder filled with Hammer HEED (High Energy Electrolite Drink). The stuff has never let me down in training or during cross country races. I also had a bottle full of Hammer Perpetuem, one of their more ultra-distance oriented fuels. My teammate Brett who was competing in the Hell of a Series there at the Test had a bladder full of Perpetuem and was also using Hammer Gel. His was definitely the way to go. I am also going to try Tums to ward off cramps, something suggested in the Endurance Racing and XC forums here on MTBR.
Refuelled, I pushed up the hill as I digested the much needed food. My legs slowly started to feel better, but not before entering a highly technical section of trail that forced even non-cramping riders off their bikes to make some of the muddy descents and exceedingly rooty sections. We made our way through Far Side and S&M. The second half of the Test is much harder than the first, especially after the major hill climb preceding it. There were enough obstacles, catwalks, and potential falls onto rocks that I couldn't risk a cramp causing me to crash. I trudged on, gradually regaining my ability to ride without worrying about my legs tearing themselves apart.
While avoiding a rider who was actually on his bicycle I tripped over my own and fell off the trail, landing on some rocks. The hillside was steep enough that my fall precipitated calls of concern from everyone that saw my tumble. I was okay, but ass over teakettle. I righted myself, irked more than hurt, and got back on my bike. I rode the rest of the course, cleaning things I don't think I could have when I was fresh! While I rode along I realized why they handed out neon yellow survival whistles with everyone's race number. There are portions of the Test where you don't want to crash and not have anyone find you.
Cruising along, I made my way through Endo and onto Plateau Drive: nearly home! I rode behind a guy who said we were doing great and going to finish with a good time. Three hours earlier I would not have agreed. However, simply knowing I was going to finish this difficult race brought a smile of pure joy to my face.
The finishing stretch of the Test of Metal is a tame mix of streets and doubletrack. I cruised in the big ring, happy my legs finally decided to cooperate at the end. The finishing chute came into view, and another rider and I laughed as we gave our best impression of a finishing sprint. I nipped him at the end, coming in around 4:42.
Though I felt fit enough to ride in the four hour range, my nutritional mistakes taught me some important lessons. I look forward to returning next year better equipped to pass the Test.
The finish line area was a blast, despite my exhaustion. I left my ride at the bike check and headed off to the barbeque tent to pick up my pulled pork sandwich included with my entry fee. Greasy food always tastes amazing after such a protracted effort. I hobbled around, chatted with my buddy Brett and some of the other Seattle guys, and watched the announcers throw WTB tires into the crowd. Once I washed my legs off with some ice cold water I made my way to the massage tent to get some work done. A rather comely Australian woman worked the knots out of my legs…and it was free! Limbered up, I retrieved my bike, washed it at the bike wash, and rode back to the B&B to luxuriate in the sauna. I tried to stretch out in that hot little room, enjoying a view of the Tantalus range, hoping my legs wouldn't cramp in my sleep. Later, I made my way to the Brew Pub to stuff my face and enjoy some beer.
I highly recommend that anyone able to do so should visit Squamish. Bring your bike. Better yet, register for the Test, and see what you're made of! I would recommend a full suspension cross country bike or all mountain bike for the trails in that area unless you're a full-on freerider. There's something for everyone. Also, be prepared to fix anything that breaks if you ride the Test. Though I only had to deal with a loose headset, the trails are rough and the course was littered all day with people fixing mechanicals.
I send my sincerest thanks to Jim and Claire at the Coneybeare Lodge, everyone who made the Test of Metal possible, and my truck for not dying on the way to and from Squamish.
Squamish, BC
A Race Report by the Evilbeaver
One unusually pleasant day late this past Autumn a group of my teammates and I went for a brisk ride on the roads in and around Seattle. The local cyclocross series had just ended, and my mind was on the upcoming mountain bike season. We spun along, discussing our race schedules and shooting the breeze as the miles disappeared beneath our wheels. Bill, the most experienced racer in the group, mentioned a race he'd ridden in Squamish called the Test of Metal.
My mountain bike race experience amounted to a few tame cross countries by that point. I wanted to try something more challenging, an event whose memories wouldn't fade so quickly. I had never visited Squamish, and I had never heard of this "Test of Metal." His description planted a seed of curiosity, prompting me to do a little research.
The Test sounded epic. The race's website (http://www.testofmetal.com/) declares:
"The Test of Metal (TOM) is one of the most successful mountain bike races in North America. The 67 km. course offers leg-numbing climbs and bone-crunching technical sections.
More than that, the TOM is an event. The town of Squamish comes out en-masse to volunteer or cheer on the racers. In its 11th year in Squamish, and with 800 spots available, the Test is always a guaranteed sell out, this year doing so in a record 4 hrs and 19 minutes."
I was one of the lucky eight hundred who secured a spot in the race this past New Year's Day. Now I get a kick out of the fact that it took less time for the race to sell out than for me to finish it. More on that later.
I figured the Test of Metal would be a nice graduation present to myself. This past year has been pretty taxing due to the death of a close family member in combination with finally finishing my bachelor's degree. I planned to spend the Test of Metal weekend up in Squamish with my girlfriend. Since she's not the kind of girl who would ever choose to sleep in a tent, we chose a beautiful looking bed and breakfast a short spin from the starting line.
The days ticked away, I put in a lot of miles, and raced a decent amount of cross country. My excitement for the Test of Metal grew. Unfortunately, my relationship with the girlfriend eroded and we parted ways. I decided against cancelling my bed and breakfast reservation, figuring a hot shower and comfortable bed would be preferable to the back of the truck my family uses to haul horse manure. I had to borrow that mechanical wonder to make the trip, as I live happily car-free in Seattle. Suffice as to say a five hour drive each way in a radio-less rattletrap truck that hasn't been washed since the late 1980s made for an adventure in and of itself. When my Salsa Moto Rapido was strapped in the newly-washed out bed the truck's value was at least quadrupled.
I arrived in Squamish Friday, the sixteenth of June, with legs fresh despite riding a pretty fast training race the preceding Wednesday. Jim and Claire, my hosts at the Coneybeare Lodge Bed and Breakfast, gave me a friendly reception. They are both mountain bikers who have completed the Test. Jim is a locally-reknowned trail builder who is a prominent member in the Squamish mountain biking community. They went out of their way to make sure I had a good experience at the Test of Metal, giving me indispensible trail beta. This was incredibly helpful considering I had never ridden the course.
The night before the race I rolled the manure truck down to the Shady Tree pub and enjoyed a delicious chicken sandwich and a pint of Stella Artois. It wasn't the ideal pre-race meal, of course, but since I was aiming to merely finish the race I figured it couldn't hurt me too badly. I returned to my plush room for the night, sucked down a few bottles of water, and slid into bed. Sleep did not come easily.
I woke to the smell of coffee brewing and the low clinks and rustlings of kitchen activity. My hosts had prepared a energy-rich porridge for breakfast that I greedily consumed. My body would need every calorie it could get for the day's effort. Another guest at the Coneybeare Lodge emerged and introduced himself as Wilbur from Austin. He has a television show in Austin that deals with wellness, psychology, and spirituality. We briefly discussed cycling before I finished my coffee and saw to my bicycle.
The Salsa Moto Rapido is a frame I'd coveted for a long time before finally acquiring one this Spring. It's a silly-light hardtail with Scandium tubing and carbon seatstays. Replete with a Fox F80X fork, XTR widgets, and my favorite Crank Brothers Ti Eggbeaters the bike weighs in just under twenty-three pounds. It is currently my only functioning mountain bike and I hoped the two of us were up to the challenge at hand.
I lubed the chain, checked my bolts, and affixed my race number. The bike had performed above expectations in its previous races and rides, and I was anxious to see how it would fare against a more technical course.
Claire, one of my hosts, was also riding the Test that day. Two of her riding friends (whom I believe were called Manouane and Sean) arrived and we rode the three miles to the starting line together, picking up another rider along the way. We arrived at the Brennan Park Recreation Center an hour before the 11 a.m. start to find more than eight hundred riders and probably at least as many spectators anxiously awaiting the gun. I positioned my bike rubber side up in the starting area in the first available spot, two-thirds of the way back.
I recognized a group of Seattle-area riders (most of whom are much, much faster than I am) and made my hellos. Another rider from my team, Brett, was up competing for points in the Hell of a Series (hellofaseries.ca) marathon race series "comprised of the three toughest and 'hellish' marathon cross-country races in BC." Brett is an animal, having already competed in the Brodie Rat Race, the first event in the Hell of a Series. He was looking to have a breakout race. He had ridden the Test of Metal in the past, and added some useful insight into what I could expect.
The very front of the pack was reserved for Elite/Pro racers, and was followed by the mass of Citizen racers to which I belonged. The energy at the start was incredible. I got a little anxious when I noticed approximately 95% of the racers were on full suspension bikes. My hardtail and 80mm fork were definitely not the weapon of choice for this event
Once everyone was astride their bikes, a moment of silence was held for a local mountain biking luminary who had unfortunately passed away in the months before the Test. Immediately thereafter the gun went off to cheers and the zip of knobby tires on pavement. The teeming throng of riders erupted onto the street, tracing its way through Squamish along highway 99 and up through the Garibaldi Heights neighborhood. I tried to make a conservative start, but it was hard not to get caught up in the excitement. The only spill I witnessed involved another Seattle rider, a really fast guy named Mike. He collided with a nervous rider who had inexplicably hit the brakes nearly as soon as the gun fired. Luckily Mike was fine, and once he he picked himself up he steadily made his way through the field.
I settled into my pace somewhere in the middle of the pack. We entered some fast rolling doubletrack that gave me my first taste of Squamish's topography. Rocks are everywhere up there. I held my position and began weaning myself off the brakes as we raced tire-to-tire on Jack's Trail up to Alice Lake Provincial Park. Unfortuantely, my tire choice (fast-rolling Hutchinson Python in the front, Michelin XCR dry 2 reversed in the rear) in combination with a grab at the brakes saw me wash out on a corner at high speed, resulting in an awkward kiss with a tree. The crash was minor, but I had to watch in dismay as maybe one hundred riders passed me before I could get back on the course.
We rode on, hitting a road in the park which made for easier feeding and drinking. My legs felt good, and I was able to tame my heart rate after the initial rush. Once we made it around Dead End Loop we encountered the hike-a-bike at Rock and Roll. This was the first of several times I'd thank myself for assembling such a light bike. Once at the top, a short climb brought us into the fast, rooty, rolling Rob's Corners followed by Cliff's Corners. Slower riders politely made way for faster ones, and I was no exception. I happily followed a very fast woman who put on a clinic of fast rooty trail riding.
The trails in Squamish are amazing. They take their trail building seriously, and every piece of trail was a joy to ride.
I picked up a couple banana pieces and a cup of water at the feed station before Nine Mile Hill. One of the most prominent features of the course, Nine Mile Hill is a soul-crushing granny gear struggle that persuades all but the strongest to just settle in and survive it. I climbed alongside another Seattle rider, Kevin, another previous Test of Metal finisher. I mentioned how good I felt. He told me we were almost halfway through and encouraged me to just soft-pedal my way up the hill. Also since this was my first Test I should be concerned with just finishing, not my finishing time. I took his advice to heart, but some damage had already been done. While climbing Nine Mile Hill, especially on the Bonk Hill section, I noticed some twinges in my calves.
I figured the twinges would go away and I could avoid cramps if I stood and pedalled, stretching my legs out as I did so. That seemed to help for a while. I made my way up Nine Mile in good shape cardiovascularly, but my legs started to revolt. Soft pedalling through the cramps became more difficult. Once I started descending the Ring Creek Rip my calves cramped terribly, literally wrapping my body around my bike causing me to crash on the fast downhill. I yelped and extracted myself from the pedals, trying to stretch my legs out and move my bike out of the trail. Each time I got back on and pedalled, I cramped again.
I couldn't believe this was happening. My heart rate was fine. I had hydrated well in the days preceding the event, and I had consumed a lot of fluid to that point. I felt like I had energy to ride fast and hard. My legs just wouldn't allow it. So, I struggled on, haphazardly coasting downhill, trying to pedal, and walking the bike when the cramps gripped me.
Other racers flew by, asking if I was alright. I replied, "Yes, I'm just cramping."
"Ouch, I feel for you! Try to ride it out!" was the general reply. So I did.
Some stretching and easy riding helped a bit. I reached the Powerhouse Plunge, an amazing downhill section lined with spectators that's currently being threatened by logging. I was ready to ride this section out, but near the bottom a trailing rider gooched my rear tire sending me off my line and into a spectator. Luckily, neither of us were hurt and I made my best cyclocross effort to shoulder the bike and hop down the rest of the descent. I remounted and rode on, but again and again my legs were wracked with cramps. Initially only my calves seized, but now my quads, hamstrings, and groin were all involved.
I nervously rolled down a forest service road section, each twinge of an impending cramp causing me to unclip in an effort to straighten my legs. Such a position was precarious and I don't recommend it. Once the course tipped back up I got off and pushed, trying to jog a bit. I swore that I was going to finish no matter what. I no longer cared that I had been on pace to ride the course in four hours, I only wanted to overcome the problem of my uncooperative legs.
I pushed my bike up the hill to the Power House feed zone to the encouragement of many spectators and volunteers. An angel appeared, asking, "cramps?" She smiled at my meek nod and filled my muddy, gloved paws with cinnamon bagle pieces. I devoured them, washing them down with gatorade and a couple of orange wedges. It was then that I noticed the many other riders around me suffering the same fate.
(I'd like to note here that the volunteers at the Test of Metal are amazing. There are literally hundreds of them, and every single one I saw was smiling and helpful. If it wasn't for their help, one, the race wouldn't exist, and two, I would have never finished this year. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.)
While I munched away and collected myself, I thought about the potential causes of this cramp-fest. This was a learning experience if there ever was one. Retrospectively I believe I made some mistakes regarding my nutrition choices on race day. I had a 2L bladder filled with Hammer HEED (High Energy Electrolite Drink). The stuff has never let me down in training or during cross country races. I also had a bottle full of Hammer Perpetuem, one of their more ultra-distance oriented fuels. My teammate Brett who was competing in the Hell of a Series there at the Test had a bladder full of Perpetuem and was also using Hammer Gel. His was definitely the way to go. I am also going to try Tums to ward off cramps, something suggested in the Endurance Racing and XC forums here on MTBR.
Refuelled, I pushed up the hill as I digested the much needed food. My legs slowly started to feel better, but not before entering a highly technical section of trail that forced even non-cramping riders off their bikes to make some of the muddy descents and exceedingly rooty sections. We made our way through Far Side and S&M. The second half of the Test is much harder than the first, especially after the major hill climb preceding it. There were enough obstacles, catwalks, and potential falls onto rocks that I couldn't risk a cramp causing me to crash. I trudged on, gradually regaining my ability to ride without worrying about my legs tearing themselves apart.
While avoiding a rider who was actually on his bicycle I tripped over my own and fell off the trail, landing on some rocks. The hillside was steep enough that my fall precipitated calls of concern from everyone that saw my tumble. I was okay, but ass over teakettle. I righted myself, irked more than hurt, and got back on my bike. I rode the rest of the course, cleaning things I don't think I could have when I was fresh! While I rode along I realized why they handed out neon yellow survival whistles with everyone's race number. There are portions of the Test where you don't want to crash and not have anyone find you.
Cruising along, I made my way through Endo and onto Plateau Drive: nearly home! I rode behind a guy who said we were doing great and going to finish with a good time. Three hours earlier I would not have agreed. However, simply knowing I was going to finish this difficult race brought a smile of pure joy to my face.
The finishing stretch of the Test of Metal is a tame mix of streets and doubletrack. I cruised in the big ring, happy my legs finally decided to cooperate at the end. The finishing chute came into view, and another rider and I laughed as we gave our best impression of a finishing sprint. I nipped him at the end, coming in around 4:42.
Though I felt fit enough to ride in the four hour range, my nutritional mistakes taught me some important lessons. I look forward to returning next year better equipped to pass the Test.
The finish line area was a blast, despite my exhaustion. I left my ride at the bike check and headed off to the barbeque tent to pick up my pulled pork sandwich included with my entry fee. Greasy food always tastes amazing after such a protracted effort. I hobbled around, chatted with my buddy Brett and some of the other Seattle guys, and watched the announcers throw WTB tires into the crowd. Once I washed my legs off with some ice cold water I made my way to the massage tent to get some work done. A rather comely Australian woman worked the knots out of my legs…and it was free! Limbered up, I retrieved my bike, washed it at the bike wash, and rode back to the B&B to luxuriate in the sauna. I tried to stretch out in that hot little room, enjoying a view of the Tantalus range, hoping my legs wouldn't cramp in my sleep. Later, I made my way to the Brew Pub to stuff my face and enjoy some beer.
I highly recommend that anyone able to do so should visit Squamish. Bring your bike. Better yet, register for the Test, and see what you're made of! I would recommend a full suspension cross country bike or all mountain bike for the trails in that area unless you're a full-on freerider. There's something for everyone. Also, be prepared to fix anything that breaks if you ride the Test. Though I only had to deal with a loose headset, the trails are rough and the course was littered all day with people fixing mechanicals.
I send my sincerest thanks to Jim and Claire at the Coneybeare Lodge, everyone who made the Test of Metal possible, and my truck for not dying on the way to and from Squamish.
