
It was around this time in 2003 that a good friend in casual conversation mentioned the Wilderness 101. I was intrigued with the idea of riding a 101 miles off road, gave it some deep thought for about 2 minutes before declaring I was in for my first mountain bike race. It proved to be a decision that would shape the course of my life for the better part of the next decade.
With a complete lack of knowledge on preparing for an event of this magnitude or any concept of the insanity I had just committed myself to I set about “training”. Living in New York City, not exactly the mecca of mountain biking, I diligently put in my rides up and down the bike path along the Hudson River. By the time race day came I was convinced my preparation was complete, having mastered the 20+ miles of city riding. After all how much harder could the 101 be, it was essentially the same ride just 5 times and with a bit of climbing thrown in (11,000’ worth)! Determined and cocksure I toed the line, and as my just as my good friend Footie did in his first 101, I hit the first 40 miles hard (which also happen to be the easiest 40 miles in the race) and by the second rest stop I was confident. Then the real climbing began and with it the suffering and oh did yours truly suffer. With training that was all on flat paved bike paths my misery began in earnest as I was on and off the bike hiking the majority of the climbs. In the end, despite 5 flats and several broken spokes I managed to cross the line some 12:47 minutes later.


I was back in 2006 and decided to throw in the Shenandoah 100 and it’s 14000’ of climbing just for good measure. Times were dropping and I was now down in the mid 10 hour range for each race. The new goal of a sub 10 hour time seemed to be on the horizon, until for unknown reasons decided it was time to see if I could make the line on a single speed. Having made it to the finish in both the 101 and the SM 100 on a fully rigid single speed

Suffering is what I wanted and suffering is exactly what I received in a dose that I thought was going to kill me. The first day was one that left even the pros like Adam Craig stunned, declaring it was the hardest single stage he had ever ridden, in fact so hard that the one section added to the course for that year was removed the following. How much did it hurt, well think 80-90% humidity, 55 miles and 15500’ of climbing through the muddy jungle logging roads of Costa Rica. So hard was this stage that the organizers decided, mid race, to extended the cutoff my 30 minutes and even with this over 50% of the field was eliminated.

With a little over 2 weeks off to recuperate and countless sessions of physical therapy to repair the damage to my body it was on to the next event. If I could survive 3 days and almost 30,000’ of climbing on a 1x9 how would I fair at 8 days and 51,000’ climbing – on a full rigid single speed? Welcome Absa Cape Epic where I would now be riding not just for myself but also as a team member for Independent Fabrication!



The season was great with podiums in all four races and finally cracking the 10 hour mark at both the Cohutta 100 and Wilderness 101. The icing on the cake came in Baja where I managed to evade the narco wars, not get shot, and in Masters win 2 stages and overall Masters title at the inaugural Baja Epic.



Finishing out a late fall ride and back at the house, I made a throwing motion and was suddenly dropped to the ground by a white hot pain in my knee. Barely able to walk or pick up my leg it was on the couch for the weekend chewing Percocets like candy. A visit to the knee surgeon and the MRI center showed nothing was wrong (relief) but the pain was moving up my quad and settling deep in the hip. After several weeks of sleepless nights from the pain (it only felt better when I was walking/standing) and countless sessions of physical therapy, I relented and hit the MRI center and the hip surgeon for a prognosis.
Looking me square in the eye the doctors first comment was if you were a runner we would be having a come to Jesus talk right now but since you are a cyclist things are a bit better. Up on the light board came the images of my right hip and the simple analysis from the doctor – osteoarthritis. It turns out that during all of these years I have been racing on a hip that was slowly disintegrating and the quick and dirty is my hip is now a ticking time bomb


Where has all this left me? Well it is a bit of a quandary, I still enjoy riding and racing the ultra endurance races but I now have to train and choose carefully when and where I race. Yes the simple solution is to have the resurfacing done and be back in the game, the only problem is the repair is not a one shot deal. The harder I push the sooner it will have to be repaired again as the attachments points loosen up (so nice to think about those screws in your femur elongating the holes so they wobble around)!
I will still be out on the course this season but in a much lower key capacity. The goal is still to do 10 straight 101s so I have to keep it in check and try to tailor the riding and racing so my hip doesn’t just explode one day. There are no regrets, only great memories and friendships but it looks like the time has come to quietly slip into a more relaxed mode and go back to having fun on the bike.