Surviving the Maah Daah Hey 100
(Not sounding too ready… lol)
From -30°F to 103°F
−30°F windchill versus 103°F heat. My two "A" races for 2026 offered extremes on completely opposite ends of the spectrum… and I can unequivocally state that I’d rather ride in the extreme cold than the extreme heat.
There were times on the Arrowhead 135 that I was really cold. But there was a moment on the Maah Daah Hey 100 (MDH100) when I genuinely thought I might die.
My initial goal for the MDH100 was 12 hours. Once the forecast shifted to "hot AF," I adjusted my expectations to 15 hours. By the time heat exhaustion hit me at mile 65, my only goal was to reach the next Checkpoint and quit… I just had to survive getting there first.
Game Plan
The Rig: 2020 Niner RDO RKT 29er (full squish) rolling on a Maxxis Ikon on the front and a Maxxis Aspen on the back, both 2.4s.
Hydration & Fuel: A 2L USWE hydration pack filled with straight water and two tall bottles mixed with Skratch Labs. Food-wise, I carried Fig Bars, waffles, and Clif Bloks, targeting around 60g of carbs per hour.
Logistics: Refill water, down a salt tab, and put an ice sock on my back at each Checkpoint. Access extra food and my drop bag at the primary Aid Stations. Aim for a steady pace.
The Rollout & The Transition
The race starts in waves based on predicted finish times, from the 9-hour mark to the 18-hour cutoff. I placed myself in the 13-hour group, feeling well-prepared in both my training and race plan. I rolled out next to Maddux, a 14-year-old who was attempting to become the youngest rider to ever finish the 100-mile distance.
I settled into a solid group of six riders for the first 25 miles. With a few miles of open gravel and a steady headwind, having a paceline to share the work was awesome. At Aid Station 1, I grabbed my drop bag, made a quick turnaround, and felt great.
The next 25 miles were the transition into the furnace. I was pacing well, staying on top of hydration, and eating regularly. Smooth sailing, so far.
Miles 50–75
Miles 50 to 75 are widely considered the most brutal section of the course, and the weather made sure it lived up to its reputation. Around miles 60-65, lightheadedness set in. I started feeling out-of-body… a surreal, tingly sensation across my entire skin, a touch of nausea, and a wee-bit of self-hatred for putting myself in this situation..
To make matters worse, my Spot Tracker had failed, cell service was nonexistent, and my anxiety began to spike. There was little-to-no shade, not a cloud in the sky, and no place to hide. I was desperately trying to stay hydrated while rationing fluids, a delicate balancing act when you don't know how long you'll be trapped out there.
I walked the hills quite a bit during this part just to keep my heart and respiratory rates down. The buffalo gnats took full advantage by feasting on my flesh (I’m still scratching them a week later).
Then, I came upon another rider sheltering under a tiny tree. He was cramping badly and was even struggling to bend his fingers. We were still two miles from the next Checkpoint, but thankfully, he somehow managed to contact his SAG crew for help. Two miles doesn't sound that far, but when you’re cooking in the sun and struggling to walk, it feels like a world away.
I borrowed a sliver of his shade, and we kept each other company. Soon, a race volunteer arrived with ice and water, followed by another volunteer on an e-bike packed with salt tabs, ice, and cold water. I was profoundly grateful. That moment saved my day. I was passed by loads of riders at this point (including Maddux), but was just happy to see people moving along the trail.
Ready to Accept My First Official DNF
After 30 minutes of resting, packing ice into a bandana, taking salt tabs, and drinking water, I limped into the next Checkpoint where Emily and Nico were waiting… worried.
I was 95% sure I was calling it quits at this point. I felt completely wrecked and I still had 40 miles left.
Emily and Nico told me to rest a bit before making a final call. After another 30 minutes of cooling off, Emily pulled out her A League of Their Own speech:
"It’s supposed to be hard. If it wasn’t hard, everyone would do it. The hard is what makes it great."
We loaded up my supplies and I got back on the bike. lol
Because I was well ahead of the cutoff time, the final 40 miles allowed for plenty of walking and extended Checkpoint breaks. I contemplated quitting more times than I can count, but I kept moving. In events like this, some racers will choose to DNF rather than accept an "unimpressive" time on paper. But I knew I had to finish, even if I was the last person across the line. I took it one Checkpoint at a time.
My Second Wind
I struggled along until about mile 75 or 80, thinking about how much I wanted it to be over, not much enjoying the ride, frankly. My computer accidentally paused for 5 (or so) miles and I also got slightly off-track, lost for about 5 minutes before I eventually figured out where I was supposed to be going. This threw off my mileage so I was back to guessing how far until the next Checkpoint. However, my mindset became the following: If you get to Aid Station 3, you can finish this! There’s no way I was going to get the hard part over with, then bail. No chance.
And it was right about here that I got my second wind. I rolled into the Aid Station at mile 79 and was treated to a misting machine, a pickle, a fresh bandana filled with ice, and more encouragement from my crew. At this point, I even felt like dancing (while swatting flies)!
For the next 25 miles I felt like I was back to “racing.” I kept my pace high, took some risks on the descents (35mph at one point), and kept the Checkpoints brief, hoping to catch a rider or two along the way. The sun was starting to set and even though the thermometer was still in the mid 90s, it felt so much cooler with the occasional stint of shade. Don’t get me wrong, I was still excited to be done, but I was having fun again!
Crossing the Line
Crossing the finish line at the Maah Daah Hey 100 mountain bike race in North Dakota
Finally, just before the sun went down, I rolled across the finish line with a time of 14:41, meeting my revised sub-15-hour goal. I shared hugs with my crew, accepted a Stonehome Brewing MDH IPA from Race Director Nick Ybarra, and officially put the MDH100 to bed.
Out of 94 starters in the 100-mile race, 48 riders DNF’d, a 50%+ drop rate driven almost entirely by the heat.
Reflecting on the race, I keep coming to the same conclusion: I gave everything I had, and my crew did everything they could. I couldn't be prouder to finish. And, of course, I keep asking myself, “Could I do it faster?” Haha.
Huge THANKS to my SAG crew for the encouragement, showing up for me, and getting nearly as dirty as me. Also, a huge thank-you to the race volunteers, most importantly the ones who showed up on the side of the trail for us. I know that they had to rescue quite a few folks out there that day. 🙏
p.s. Maddux finished about 40 minutes ahead of me. Way to go, kid! 💪
By the Numbers
Here is how the 107 miles actually broke down from the 6:04 AM rollout to the final finish line:
| Location | Mile Marker | Time |
|---|---|---|
| Start | Mile 0 | 6:04 AM |
| Aid Station 2 | Mile 50 | 11:25 AM |
| CP Delta | Mile 57 | 12:26 PM |
| CP Echo | Mile 67 | 2:09 PM |
| CP Foxtrot | Mile 71 | 3:15 PM |
| CP Golf | Mile 75 | 4:26 PM |
| Aid Station 3 | Mile 79 | 5:28 PM |
| CP Hotel | Mile 91 | 7:02 PM |
| CP India | Mile 98 | 8:10 PM |
| Finish Line | Mile 107 | 8:45 PM |