This feels like a strange time to celebrate personal accomplishments. This experience, along with the reflection/write up are opportunities for me to breathe. My hope is that this will give you at least a few minutes to be distracted, to breathe. I can’t help but tie our current events into my story. Please take care of yourselves. It’s a long game and we need to stay energized.
Chapter 4
The Arrowhead Ultra 135. I’ve heard stories, read articles, and watched videos. I’ve seen the documentary. I always thought, “That looks pretty hard. Maybe I’ll do it one day.” Well, that day came and went and I have survived to tell the story.
TL;DR: I finished with no frostbite! Goals achieved.
I traveled from Minneapolis to International Falls on Sunday morning with Trenton and Andy. Trenton was generous enough to drive since his vehicle has AWD, often a necessity in those parts. Sunday’s events include gear check-in, mandatory racer meeting, and a pasta dinner to squeeze in a few final calories. We also spent some time doing some recon on the trail to determine proper air pressure for my tires (more on that later).
Gear check-in is critical to ensure that each racer has what they need to survive. Requirements include items like a -20°F sleeping bag, hand warmers, enough calories to survive getting snowed in, a stove to melt snow for drinking water, etc. I passed my check-in, got some peace of mind at the racer meeting, and enjoyed some pasta and conversation at the dinner. All that was left to do was make sure the bike was ready, grab a beer at Loony’s Brew in nearby Ranier, and try to get a decent night of sleep. 5am comes early.
Race start time is always on Monday morning at 7am to avoid the busy weekend snowmobile traffic. The sun has yet to come up at 7am; the starting area slowly grows into a sea of headlamps, nervous chatter, and final checks. The temperature was -18℉ with a windchill of -30℉. It was chilly and I was looking forward to spinning my legs to get warmed up. However, I was very conscious of the fact that I did not want to start sweating right away which can happen when I’m trying to keep up with other riders. To that end, my plan was to start in the middle of the pack so that I could start with a relatively easy effort. At 6:58am I lined up in the starting area and found myself on the front; not where I wanted to be.
Fireworks in the sky meant ‘do or die’. As my legs started spinning I quickly realized that my tire pressure was much too low. I was immediately passed by about 80% of the riders who appeared to have motors on their bikes. I was putting out incredible effort and getting nowhere, starting to sweat in the process. I pulled off the gas and decided to roll easy, let my heart rate come down, and settle into the race.
At mile 9 is a hard left turn and a small shelter that is (kind of) enclosed on 3 sides. You’ve seen them. They typically include a small fire ring with empty beer cans and cigarette butts from the local high schoolers, as did this one. I decided that this was a good place to add some air into my tires so I screwed my Lezyne hand pump onto my valve and pumped it up a few PSI. As I unscrewed the pump, the valve core decided to come with it and my tire went completely flat. Not good. As I tried to reinsert the valve core, the entire valve came loose and sealant began leaking at the connection to the rim. I tried to fix it and was offered help from several strangers. I thought I had it fixed and started to pump it up again when my pump broke and the valve popped loose again. I did as much as I could with gloves on, tried a bit with gloves off (bad idea), and finally decided that my day was already done. I spent 45 minutes at this spot… I was shivering… My fingertips were starting to ache (uh oh)... and I was frustrated.
Plan B: Start walking. And so I walked. I was passed by XC skiers, several runners, and I assumed that I had been passed by all of the bikes. I couldn’t help but think about how ridiculous it was that after all the training, the prep, the excitement, the visions of success… I was done at mile 9. Oh well. It beats getting frostbite.
About 30 minutes into pushing my bike I had decided that I would hitch a ride if a snowmobile were to pass by. Resigned. And then… “Do you need some help?” asked a voice as they pulled up next to me on their Surly Ice Cream Truck. I told him that my pump was broken, he said I should try his, and I decided to humor him and myself. And this is where a stranger named Christian saved my adventure. I futzed with the valve one more time, attached his pump, and filled the tire with air. It held! I can’t explain it and I don’t intend on trying. Thank you so much, Christian.
I thanked him profusely and pushed on to Gateway General at mile 35, the first of 3 checkpoints. Waiting for me there were the smiles and hugs that I so badly needed. With strong encouragement from Trenton, I used a pump to add some pressure to my tires, drank some coffee, got some encouragement from my social media team ;), and some bonus positive vibes from Risa, Joe, and Raven. It was time to start racing.
Not a whole lot happened between CP1 and CP2 at Melgeorge’s on Elephant Lake, except that I averaged about 2mph faster while climbing a hell of a lot more hills. That tire pressure was a game changer! The final mile into Melgeorge’s has you ride across Elephant Lake. With a headwind and occasional white out conditions, I did my best to follow tire tracks and the reflective markers guiding me in. Once there, the volunteers were amazing. They made me 2 grilled cheese, filled my hydration, got me coffee, all while helping every person that walked through the door. CP2 is also where racers are allowed to pick up their drop bags. Mine contained Skratch drink mix and food. I reloaded, used the bathroom, and was off.
For those that are curious about my nutrition strategy:
Left pogie (sweet): Bobo’s and Fig bars cut into manageable pieces, as well as Clif blocks with caffeine
Right pogie (salty): Pub mix, PB pretzels, and a few Reese’s PB cups to surprise me
Top Tube bag (random): Run Gum (caffeine), nerd clusters (never opened) and backup Clif blocks
Hydration pack: water with strong mix of Skratch Labs mix
The miles from CP2 to CP3 were the hardest. It’s the longest stretch at about 40 miles, a lot of climbing (see walking my bike up hills in cycling boots), and it’s overnight. The overnight aspect was amazing. Once the snowfall stopped, stars and a half-moon were visible. If I stood still the only sound was the ringing in my ears. It was dead quiet. The downside to the dark is that I was more reluctant to bomb the descents. This is typically where I make good time because I am a strong (see risky) descender and the momentum carries me up the following climb; or at least a portion of it. However, despite my strong headlights, the falling snow and darkness make it difficult to see exactly what was waiting for me at the bottom of the hill… caution prevailed. Very often, there would be a large hump at the bottom. In fact, on two occasions my blinking red light popped off and slid down the hill (should’ve used zip ties for extra security). It was during this section that I started to set small goals for myself. “Get to mile 85…” “Get to mile 90…” “OK, get to mile 88.” :/ When I was able to find some flow and glide along for a bit, I imagined the tenths of miles ticking off my Wahoo; pretending I was physically gobbling them up into my mouth (the ability to entertain yourself comes in handy on these occasions).
It was with about 5 miles until CP3 that the hallucinations started. To be clear, there is nothing manmade out there. It is snow, trees, brush, and shadows. Despite that fact, I found myself riding past an apartment building with one of the windows lit up as though people were getting their day started. I saw dozens of drink coasters strewn down the trail, stopping to find that they were footprints in the snow. Five minutes later I swore there were dozens more coasters all over the trail, stopping again to inspect them… footprints. For miles I felt that I was riding through a junkyard. There was a long line of cow-shaped mailboxes, which I assumed were for sale. Nope. The shadows play tricks on you and questioning your peripheral vision is probably a good idea. A snowmobile stopped to check on me around this point. “I’m good.” He told me I had 3 miles to CP3. Keep in mind that I’m riding somewhere between 5-8 mph, so this could take another 1/2 hour. This was a turning point in my confidence… when I started falling asleep on the bike. I walked to keep myself awake and to reduce the consequences of a fall, but continued dozing off. I tried singing, humming, shaking my head around… and somehow made it to CP3: Embark Maple.
As I pulled past the tiki torches, there they were: Andy and Trenton; my rocks; capturing video, snapping pics, and telling me what an amazing job I was doing. I didn’t buy it. I think I’m done. Real fear set in. The thought of falling asleep (accidentally) in these temps with no one behind me for miles was terrifying. This was no longer a “really long bike race” and challenge of endurance. It felt more like survival. I climbed into the warming tent and tried to thaw out my frozen gear near the wood stove. I drank some tea and maybe some milk with coffee syrup (?). I’ll be honest. I was confused. But I only had 22 miles to go! More than anything, I just wanted to sleep. My Wahoo was at 1% and my power pack wasn’t cooperating, until suddenly it was. I spent about 45 minutes at CP3, similar to each of the other CPs. Once I had about 25% power on my Wahoo, I got myself dressed and convinced myself that I deserved that trophy with the arrowhead on it.
I think it was about 4:30 am when I rolled out of CP3. The next section starts with a very long climb that required walking. I was literally taking 10 steps, then stopping to catch my breath. 10 steps. Rest… My legs were on fire, my lungs were done, and I had a long way to the top. Once I overcame the neverending hill I was gifted with a long descent. This energized me for a bit until I started falling asleep again. I knew the Sleep Monster was going to shadow me at some point in the adventure and frankly, I couldn’t wait for the sun to start rising to wake me up. Once the sun said “Good morning, Paulie. You’re almost there,” I snapped out of it. It’s amazing how your mood can change in mere minutes, completely changing the perspective of your surroundings. I felt good again. I felt strong. Nature was beautiful again. I remembered why I was doing this. Why was I doing this? Great question. I’ll get to that.
I rolled into the finish line at 8:44am on Tuesday. I did it. I was an Arrowhead Ultra 135 Finisher.
I went through the required post-ride gear check, received my award, and took some pictures, all in the company of my amazing crew, Trenton and Andy. It was at this point that Joe, Risa, and Elena walked in and gave me congratulatory hugs. I was far from home, surrounded by my community. I am so grateful for that moment.
Why do I do this? Because Trenton told me it would be easy. Lol. Ok… I knew it would be a challenge, but I have an entirely new respect for anyone who has lined up for AH135. It’s no joke. It’s the hardest event I’ve ever attempted. I would not have finished if it weren’t for the encouragement of these guys. There’s no way. I didn’t believe in myself. But they did. Then I did.
There are a lot of layers to why I did this and I could write about it for hours. At the risk of getting sidetracked, the overarching theme is that I am privileged. I know that. I don’t have to face the challenges that some of my neighbors have to face. I don’t have to worry every time I walk out my front door. In fact, I could probably get through life and lie on my deathbed saying, “Well that was pretty easy.” No thanks. I’m going to do hard things. I’m going to step out of my comfort zone, whether it’s to challenge myself or scare myself a little.
I had a lot of time to think over those 25+ hours. I had to push a lot of angry thoughts out of my head. After getting hugs from Andy, Trenton, Joe, and Risa at CP1, I rode for about a mile and broke down crying. Sobbing while I pedaled. I thought about my city; about our fight. And I thought about how strong our community is. That is how we are going to win. By being there for each other. Not by looking away and shrugging our shoulders. I thought about how lucky I am to live in such a steadfast city and how grateful I am to have such amazing, generous, and supportive friends. I thought about Renee Good and about Alex Pretti. I cried more than once. Anger at the monsters. Sadness for everyone who has been on the wrong end of their callousness. Gratitude for my community standing up to all of it. I don’t know which tears were which.
To be clear, I am not suggesting that my self-imposed challenges on a bike are comparable to the challenges that my community is facing. That would be ludicrous. All I can tell you is that when my days are waning, I want to look back on what I’ve done, what I’ve stood up for, and what I’ve shown up for, and say, “That was worth fighting for.”
Ultimately, I was able to go for a long bike ride in the woods. I was able to test myself. To reflect on what is important to me. To experience what friends, and strangers, will do for each other. To try to find some peace, even if momentary. Thank you so much to those who care for the Arrowhead State Trail and places like it. Thanks to Ken and ALL of the volunteers who make this event what it is. Thanks to my partner, Emily, for her support, love, and for understanding the part of me that seeks this adventure. Thanks to my Mpls people who always show up. And thanks so much to Trenton Raygor and Andy Lageson for believing I could do this and for their unwavering support. Much love. -Paulie
Some key stats:
Distance: 133.56 miles
Bike: Otso Voytek
Ride Time: 19 hours and 38 minutes
Total Elapsed Time: 25 hours and 44 minutes
Elevation: 6,493 feet
Crashes: 1
Place: 19th (61 bikes started, 41 finished)