Wilderness 101 - Mrs. C-Dubs Welcome To My Madness

It has been a week since the complete sufferfest know as the Wilderness 101 took place and after a week of nonstop drinking, to drown the pain, I have finally sobered up enough to recount the horrors that were inflicted on those of us that made the finish but had less then optimal races.
The year’s weather patterns continued unabated as the drive down to Coburn was all rain all the time. Along with softening up the course the rain ensured that campsite setups would be an exercise in frustration as shelters were erected and cars unloaded in the downpour. After sitting around for a couple of hours waiting to get a preride in I surrendered and went out in the rain for a brief ride. Preparation and training for the race had been right on schedule with the exception of heat and humidity which had been nonexistent this summer…..until the days leading up to the race when it suddenly changed from spring like conditions to full on summer in a matter of days. Based on the forecast for race day, heat and high humidity, I knew there was a possibility it would be a long day on the race course so just to get ready for the suffering I unleashed the dominatrix and requested a good whipping to get used to the pain.
A combination of injuries and the economic downturn had trimmed the ranks of the Independent Fabrication team to just 3 participants – Jeff Whittingham in open, Mike Ramponi in singlespeed and Chris Wurster in masters, with Harlan Price nursing a broken wrist and providing moral support to the rest of us. About half way up the first 3 mile climb with the sweat already pouring off of me I knew that the high humidity (90%+) was going to make this a long race, if I survived to the finish. It was my good friends the demons and they had decided to come out and play a bit earlier then usual, oh brother is this going to be a long day of suffering! By the 20 mile aid station I had managed to stay with my primary competition and kept my head down, ground out the miles and consumed as much fluid as possible to try and stay hydrated. Despite feeling like crap I managed to pull out time on the next climb only to flat on the ensuing descent, giving back all of the hard earned time plus some extra. Lady luck was not with me and I managed to flat a second time at the summit of the next climb and finally limped into the 40 mile station with yet another flat! Still not feeling great I resigned myself to being off the podium and turned my focus on making the finish.
The early cloud cover managed to give way to bright hot sunshine right as the big climbs began. The timing was perfect for getting the heat/humidity combo going at worst possible time. Despite this I continued to pound out the miles and fighting dehydration, I actually started to feel better as the race went on, taking back places over the final 45 miles of the race. My spirits were buoyed by the knowledge that short of a mechanical or a crash I was going to make it 7 straight W 101s completed. By the time I managed to get to the finish (a disappointing 7th in Masters) I was so spent and dehydrated that I couldn’t stand and my calf muscles looked like a bag full of worms squirming around. Countless beers and goji tea insured an altered state of mind that would make me forget the pain and repeated promises to myself that I would never come back again if I made the finish. Funny thing is I have made the same promise 7 times now and have broken every time the entry comes up.
One of the highlights of the weekend was the last minute participation of Mrs. C-Dubs, standing in for Marci de Sade. While she only made it to the first check point before dropping she had a great time, racked up the same finishing record as the Mayor and swore to come back next year and go for the 40 mile checkpoint.