To be honest, I have no idea why I had such strong animosity towards the Aqueduct Stage/Stage Four. I can remember the exposed, chunky switchback descent which seems to want to throw me off the side of the mountain to land on top of the houses I could never afford in the valley five thousand feet below. I'm so in the grips of acrophobia and agoraphobia that I'm relieved when I get to the bottom and turn hard right into a face-full of rocks going up Vomit Hill. Then there's the doldrums of scrubby high country ups and downs where I usually find myself alone in the hot sun... only to mercilessly spin out my 32x20 going down the aqueduct... and then my favorite part is the eight mile climb out to some immemorable descent to a predictable punch in the dick climb to the finish?
Something in there...
I decided I would do my best to go into it this year with an open mind. I haven't seen this stage since I did it in 2019* on a Duo 100+ team with my frand Chris, so the last time my misery had company. The experience before that was my 2017 beer/bacon drop bag bonanza tour with Jeremy, so where do all these unpleasant thoughts come from?
Wake up Wednesday morning, eat my 1.5 blueberry muffins, drink from my tiny coffee cup that necessitates an accessory measuring cup of coffee to limit my trips from the couch to the kitchen, then my usual constitutional... and the power goes out at the Beaver Run Resort... and also the water.
*struggles to convince self that it's not going to be a bad day*
Tell Dahn, Rege, and Hamburgers that if they need to dispose of a "two," they can halp themselves to the spare water that's in my many humidifiers running in my bedroom as a form of "East-Coaster life support."
I line up next for Stage Four to this big dude (everyone is a "big dude" to me) on a Yeti (turq, obvs) with new XTR Di2 shifting but older brakes... and the frame has a "Joe Lawwill" sticker on the top pipe.
Dude musta bought Joe's old bike?
Look at the dude. Holy shit. It's Joe Lawwill.
I ask him about his shifting set up and the older brakes, and as we're shooting the shit, it finally dawns on me... I rode with him thirteen years ago in Sun Valley when Zac and I won a trip and bikes and memories and stuff?
Joe asked my how long this stage was going to take me to finish, and when I said "around five hours," the look he gave me did nothing to tell me if he thought I must be slow or fast or dumb. The race eventually started, the banter ended, and I went into my "game plan." Since my bad experiences seem to have more to do with loneliness than the actual trail, I opted to just follow along at the pace of other riders until we got to the eight mile climb. I was stuck in long trains going downhill, chugging up steep climbs at 5RPM, and yoyoing off the back of a small group to get through the Sargasso Sea section.
It all worked (sorta... something for later). I popped out at the aid station at the bottom of the big climb, made sure to eat and drink, and started making the most out of a consistent Zone Four (oranges not apples) effort. I was gobbling up all the carrots on the road and double track, and before I knew it, I passed Joe. Which was cool... except for the fact that when the trail finally turned down, like WAY DOWN, I was worried that I'd soon have the tire tracks of a former World Cup downhill racer up my back and over my helmet. Somehow, I managed to stay away.
I knew it was another eight mile punch in the dick to get back, but bolstered by how not bad of a day I was having, I put something into it. Before I could wrap my brain around it, I was catching the sole female single speeder who had been stomping me into the dirt every day. Then I caught up to Rege and Dahn.
I was having a good day. Too good.
Seeing that I was going to be so close to breaking five hours, I pointlessly put in way more effort than a smart person woulda made.
I made some more passes and came in (pointlessly) at 4:59:08.
I'm sure Joe was impressed by how slow or fast or dumb or accurate I was.
I didn't find out how stupid my efforts were until the next morning.
Oh yeah, get back to Beaver Run and all I wanna do is eat and shower and... the power had come back on.
Hooray.
And then shut off again.
* 2021 I wrecked out on Stage Two and 2022 Aqueduct was canceled due to weather shortening the week
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