mt. taylor quad race report

[PMcDC]

MT. TAYLOR QUADRATHLON RACE REPORT
(from Peggy McDowell-Cramer)
the mt. taylor quad is quite an event. maybe more event than race. it starts
in grants, n.m., about 90 miles west of albuquerque, in the middle of not one
thing at all. this year it was held on february 19 with a couple of
alterations for insufficient snow cover.
the basics of the quad are: bike 13 miles, run 5, x-c ski 2, snowshoe 1. at
this point you've risen 4800' and find yourself atop mt. taylor, 11,301. from
here, as you gasp for any available oxygen, you truly can see for 100 miles.
it's quite a sight. breathtaking, in any sense. then you do the whole thing
back down. this is understandably a good deal easier.
the quad is the baby of grants, a town trying to get something, anything going
to help their economy. they started it 17 years ago, for that reason, & it has
grown into something of a cult race for a number of people. you can do this
solo, in pairs, or as a team of 4. this year 52 women & 238 men were solo
competitors, & 200+ in the other categories. i did it as a solo since i didn't
know anyone else daft enough to do it.
the race starts out flat, & the first 10 miles of the bike are not bad: pretty
good road (empty) and gradual incline. the last 3 miles of it are hard. i
was plenty warm when i finally arrived at the transition area, although the air
was around 30f. what this race lacks in amenities it makes up in volunteers:
they grab your bag, pull out the things you want, take care of what's left, and
do lots of encouragement. they are uniformly nice.
the run up is on a gravel road. i'd planned to shuffle up, but actually
walked most of it since i could go as fast or faster than my attempt at
running. the altitude (8200-9400' on the run) does get one's attention,
particularly when one normally lives at the beach. the mindset for this leg
is: i'm walking now, but i'll be running when i come back down.
T2 was very fast since i only needed to grab my backpack with my snowshoes.
the x-c ski was out & we could either run that leg or use snowshoes---which we
had to have with us at that point, anyway. i chose to take my poles with me
and was glad for it, both in shoes & on snowshoes, as it gave an extra measure
of stability on uneven ground & snow. i did put on my snowshoes after about
3/4 of a mile & they went well, even on bare ground. the last part of the x-c
ski leg is essentially straight up. it's also around 10,600'. all things
considered, including groaning fellow wayfarers alongside, i decided it was
depressing to look up at/for the top, & that i was better off just looking at
my feet & the ground. i was going up by single digit inches, & figured i'd
eventually get there. i did eventually get there, & in the process reconfirmed
my original intent of this being a one-time race for me. think rock climbing
wall & you have the proper idea of this incline.
T3, at the top, was really no more than an overhead banner & people writing
down your number----no stop for us since we were already snowshod. this part
seemed to be a little road & was fairly easy to navigate. the first part
wasn't very steep, & it ended at a point with signs alerting you to the fact
that you were about to look out over the entire countryside. it was an amazing
sight! since i had the leisure of being the only one in my age group, hence
unhurried or harried, i'd brought along a little disposable camera and took
pictures here & at the final top. the last climb--maybe just 1/3 of a mile or
less---was hard, hard, hard. when you rounded a last curve of the mountain you
could see an american flag flying, but you're still trudging inch by
inch-----felt like the speed of people going up everest. there are people at
the top taking numbers & giving congratulations & encouragement & some deal of
general hoopla by racers who've made it. a few pictures, whoops, then down,
glorious down.
i'd planned to run the down parts, but ended up walk-running the next 3 miles.
it was hugely jarring & i thought i'd just save it for the actual run down the
road. there's a tremendous change of viewpoint at the top which goes with the
change in terrain slant. you think: however long it is, it's not much work
from here on. somewhat akin to: well, in the worst case i can just roll home.
in this stretch i really appreciated my poles as stabilizers. a combination
of the work just expended & the altitude made me occasionally have a spacey
moment.
i noticed a big change at the T to the run. it was much easier, and i felt a
good deal more energized. alas, feelings are deceptive and don't seem to be
related to slow, slow, slow times. i had a lot of company on all of the legs
of the race but, oddly, hardly any on the run down until almost the end. then
there were a lot of people, racers & spectators, all upbeat & encouraging.
what a lift. the run wasn't hard, but seemed long, and i was anxiously
awaiting the bike back. this is because i perceived it to be merely a balance
and point activity.
i'd practiced with downhill biking after runs & was glad: it's very cold & i
did get the clothing right. i had on LOTS of layers, of everything. there's
just one brief spot on this downhill leg where the road goes up & it seemed
like an insult at that point in the game. and, i thought i was going to be
parboiled with all of my layers + newly generated heat. it was soon over,
though, & the rest was enjoyable & uneventful.
the awards are done at 7pm & it's unfortunate that many people had already
gone. nambe` is a race sponsor & did all of the awards---they are very nice,
all appropriately engraved. the solo awards are 3 dimensional stars which sit
on a slant, quite heavy.
this was assuredly a wild experience, and a fairly fun one. i wanted to try
it out, did so, had the leisure of no direct competition, beat the life out of
my hips & legs, thought my lungs were leaving me after the end of the race, and
was fine by tuesday. it was a kick. but once is plenty.