Fred's Excellent Adventure

Fred reporting on his race in South Dakota:

I participated in the Black Hill Road race this past Saturday - a 42 mile race through the Black Hills in Custer State Park. It is a mass start race with no race categories. This annual event typically has 40-60 riders, but only about 35-40 riders were present this year, mostly from South Dakota and Wyoming.

When we left our cabin and drove the 20 miles to the start, the car thermometer bottomed out at 36 degrees as we drove along the famous "Needles Highway" - the same route that I would soon encounter in the early stages of the race. However, the sun was shining and the winds were light - by all local standards, a quite spectacular day!.

Early in the race we encounter a small band of bull buffalos feeding along the road, that started to get a little anxious as we approached, so the race was neutralized for a few moments. A few were crossing the road in front of us, a little confused on who or what was approaching them. About 6 miles into the race, we turned onto the Needles, where the 2,000' elevation started to kick in. This 14-mile mostly uphill portion of the course had been recently re-asphalted, and so was very smooth and fast. The center lines had not yet been painted, but maybe that was the plan, as the road width was often times too narrow for both lanes! We passed through several tunnels carved into the granite hills where only one vehicle at a time could pass.

After a relatively short climb, the road made a fast descent into a blind, sweeping downhill turn. I was up near the front and suddenly a tire blew from behind. At the same time, a car was approaching up the hill. I yelled "car up", about the same time the tire blew, and the next sound was the blood-curdling sound of a bike crashing. I road hard to stay with the riders in front, who then quickly accelerated. Rumor had it that someone had slammed into the car, but not sure if it was the same rider who blew the tire. But we understood that he/they continued the race!

Several other surges occurred, and I found myself chasing a lead group of three riders. On one particular long, steep uphill, I was able to bridge up to them. One of the riders glanced back at me and said "good job". When the other two heard this, they picked up the pace started to ride me off their wheels. However, I was able to increase my lead on the ensuing riders behind me.

The race proceeded passed the cabin where we had spent the night, and turned off the Needles at an elevation of 6,250-ft and onto the highway towards the town of Custer. On a long fast descent, I passed the lead follow vehicle which appeared to be making a wheel change with several riders. It was a fast decent, and I had my head low in a tuck position to stay aero, so didn't get a good look at the situation. Occasionally, I would take a peek behind to see if anyone was gaining on me. I finally started seeing the lead vehicle about 6 miles later, once I turned onto the next highway. Were they pacing riders up to me?

But when the lead vehicle passed me, there were no riders with it, so I realized I was now in the lead. I had to climb several shorter hills, but most of the next 15 miles were fast downhills. I dared not coast in a tuck position, but continued to pedal my bigger gears in TT mode, keeping as aero as possible. Here, I averaged around 30 MPH. I crossed the finish line in first place overall. The ensuing riders later told me that they were gaining on me, and at one point thought that I had taken a wrong turn, since they lost sight of me. But I had successfully increased my speed enough to ride out of their line of sight.

Then the story started to unfold. The lead group of riders came across a pair of mule deer during their descent, when one of the deer suddenly darted out onto the highway between the riders, causing a terrible crash. They eventually made wheel changes and chased, and I also joined forces with some of the ensuing riders. But one of the crash victims eventually had to drop out (from shaking and likely in shock) and was taken to a nearby hospital (I heard that his helmet had been split upon impact). During my solo ride, I came across another small group of bull buffalos along the road, as well as mule deer and pronghorns, that spooked as I quickly (and quietly) descended past them. So, my win was really by default, and the race director summed it up by saying that I was "...the only rider to have escaped bad luck and misfortune..." along the way. After a group potluck picnic after the race, I spent the rest of the day fishing and relaxing.