Tuesday, July 21, 2020

The Demise of the Checklist Queen ⎼ A CrusherEX Cautionary Tale


Todd Poquette, Director of Adventure, 906 Adventure Team

60 hours later I still do not know how a perfect ride could go so wrong.  I feel embarrassed and dumb, but I am telling the story anyway. Maybe it will make you just a little bit sharper when you need it most.  Those autopilot times when things go awry.

When we take on adventure, even the most prepared, experienced person can mess up.  No one died or got injured this time.  That is good.  My mistakes just wasted many people’s time, caused anxiety, maybe panic.  I know I cried a few times and swore a lot. I like efficiency and there was nothing efficient about the events late on July 18th. 

Like most riders who relish a full day in the saddle (and now a night and day too) preparation for a long event was not new.  I had my spreadsheets and checklists. I used my-phone-a-friend and messaged a lot with Chad Schut who has ridden the Hamr, the 2019 Crusher, every Marji and backpacked all over the proposed area.  He gave me lots of intel and suggested gear and set up.  My work was paused, I had lots of time to make my plan and I loved it – the bike set-up, training, tweaking, spending too much money on “adjustments to the set up” it was awesome.

When COVID hit, like probably everyone who had signed up for The Crusher, I figured it was off along with all the races I had in my schedule prior to it.  Then sometime in April, Liz Belt, owner of Intrepid Cycling, who I’d been training inside with all winter until the Executive Orders, told me she heard Todd might hold it after all.  She wondered if it did happen, would I do it with her.  Liz had never participated in an a “long” event. She was doing Marji Gesick 100 in the fall so The Crusher seemed like a good first step.  Only a Marquette native, Army vet, with two tours of Iraq, would use a 225 mile race (really its 250) as  their initial foray into endurance racing.  I love Liz.  In my 7 years of endurance racing I had never ridden a race intentionally  with another person.  This would be awesome!  Liz is 25 years younger than me with the strongest mental fortitude I know, and she is strong as an ox. Most important, I knew she could stay awake all night – something I was not 100 % sure about for myself.  Plus, Liz had asked her best friend, Lindsay, also from Marquette, to be our trail angel and find us on the course.  That sounded less risky for the event format, which was no longer a single-weekend Mass-start but performed at the participant’s choice, between July 1 and October 1. Though I was behind my original Crusher Training plan due to COVID, I thought, sure, I can rework this and get enough volume in for it. Let’s do this!  It’s an adventure!

Originally, we were going to do it on July 11th, and ride in a group with Todd and some guys from Traverse City and GR.  But Liz experienced a death in her family, and we pushed our ride to July 18th.  I went up to Marquette anyway.  Did some recon, worked on our time management plan yet another spreadsheet.

The forecast race week was not promising.  I had completed one 100-mile race entirely in the rain and wasn’t too worried about it – it’s Marquette, the puddles will just be bigger, I packed a 2nd jacket and added another light source.

July 18th started with thunder. We got poured on just after getting down from taking our bikes up and down the Hogback. Lightening and the works sheets of rain so dark we had to continue to ride with lights. Dramatic but I knew the sand riding would be improved.  Rain stopped,  Liz was riding strong, I felt good.  Mile 31, we saw Lindsay and Addie, Liz’s daughter, and their friend, Marty.  Cheers, more chamois butter and cleaned up the drive chains a bit.  That first time check we were a little behind my plan, but I knew we would steadily improve. Water spigot and snow plow selfies. More climbing, puddles, some water crossings.


Elevation profile of our CrusherEX day


We climbed to Mt. Arvon (70.1 miles).  It was just under 11 hours close to 4:30.  We were out of fluids, but a trail angel saved us. We needed to trim our stop time.  The course was beautiful, never boring.  We descended Arvon.  Lindsay and Addie met us again, some new rider friends, Josh and Ryan, came by and  took some goodies. 40 more miles and we would be at the Huron River  We’d make it well before sunset. I was really looking forward to that Lake Superior, the beach, the river. 

We descended some more and climbed a little and then headed east and north.  There was more climbing going toward the Lake than I expected.  I had not really studied that part of the map to that degree (bad idea- don’t be me).  The roads were sort of bumpy. I was tired but I just kept climbing. Liz was just ahead.

I was watching the Wahoo data screen instead of the track for 100 miles to hit because I knew that would be a good milestone for Liz.  I called it out, we talked about being ready to descend. I keep climbing.  I am in a zone (another bad idea). 

Next thing I remember, I look up and Liz is not there.  I am still climbing, she is not. I look down at my Wahoo. I switched my screen back to the track.  I was off-course and alone for the first time all day.  I had been riding 14 hours and 8 minutes.

I panicked a little and yelled for her. At the time, I did not know how far I had ridden past the intersection. I immediately turned around and headed down.  It was not far, maybe ¾ mile or less.  I saw where I had missed the slight right that was a downhill. I wasn’t too worried; I ride a lot. Getting off-course and correcting it is just part of the deal. That detour took 10 minutes.

I got back on course expecting at some point to see Liz, either waiting somewhere or riding back towards me.  After all, there was still 10 miles to get to the Lake.  It seemed inevitable that I would run into her. I did not. She had her own ride issues, tried to find me, lost nav, got to the Huron crossing and waited for me.  I never got there.  I kept going. 

One rider passed by me I remembered seeing earlier in the day. Shortly after that I rode up to Bruce, who we had chatted with somewhere before Dodge City.  He said he thought we were well ahead of him.  I told him I’d gone off course and was separated from Liz. He had not seen her. I passed two more riders I remembered from earlier in the day.  My Wahoo track showed go straight.  I was distracted.  I kept going.

It had been almost an hour since I had gotten back on course.  I thought I should be close to the Lake now.  The two-track got more enhanced. I started swearing at Todd, thinking he was a jerk for choosing this crappy dead fall littered crap to take me to the Lake.  I crashed hard on my left side trying to avoid a mud pit, swore some more.  It took me a few minutes to get myself back together.  I wondered where Bruce was (which should have triggered me looking at my Wahoo more closely or pulling out the phone).
But I kept going.

The two-track became a logging trail that was a mess of deep, muddy machine tracks. I wondered what was going on.  I glanced at the Wahoo.  The track was still there, a straight line heading north towards the Lake.  I pulled out my phone and pulled up the Gaia GPS app. I was off-course again.  Way off.

As it turns out, my Wahoo ride froze back at mile 107.1, at 14:35. Using the Gaia GPS app on the phone, my first inclination was to try to make as short a line as I could toward the course.  I was so mad at myself.  I knew if I didn’t get back on the course as fast as possible,  people were going to worry.  I knew I’d be DQed but if I got there fast and found Liz, we could continue and her race plan would still be OK.  I moved as fast as I could. 

I was seriously bushwhacking now.  I kept running into dead ends, trees, creeks, pitches, mud.  The Etrex (more on that later) shows hours to sunset on the screen.  I was losing light.  I studied the phone and realized Eric’s Bridge was showing on there and there was some sort of trail that wasn’t too far from me. I headed that way. It had been too long.  I just wanted to find a house so I could contact Todd and get the word out, I’m fine and heading their way.  End the worry – try to fix it.

Todd was very clear in all of the information about this event.  Most of the course has no cell service. ( I was confident in my navigation.  I had a plan.)  He also suggested we ride with a partner or small group.  (I did that too, but that went sideways with my first off-route.)

I know what you’re thinking now ⎼ she’s just an almost senile old lady – that would never happen to me/us.

I kept heading south. Looking at my Strava file closely, you will see I also made a full circle at some point.  The ride file which was thankfully saved on my Etrex (my key navigation redundancy that was on my bar) shows I missed the turn for the Lake at 110.8 miles. My ride time at that point was 15:04 (8:34 pm). Looking at that map now and seeing the obvious turn for the river crossing, I just can’t imagine how I missed that. I was so close, but completely oblivious. Todd likes to quote Mike Tyson too; “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face.” I was officially punched.



                                                                                     Area of my Demise

By the time I got into the logging area north of Eric’s Bridge, it was dark. Eventually, the mud turned to gravel and I could ride out to the road.  I found a house a short ways down and the kind and helpful people were receptive when this filthy woman on a bike rolled in asking them if they have a landline, cellular or wifi.  They asked me if I was doing the “Tour of the Lakes”.  I said no, definitely not (and chuckled to myself).  No cell service but they had a landline.  Called Todd – no answer. They gave me their wifi password. I got a text to Todd.  He told me they were looking for me. I texted Todd back and told him I would be on Skanza Rd. heading west towards Finn’s Bar. I thanked the people at the house profusely, accepted a coke and water and headed back out. 

Riding on, I think there’s still a chance Liz’s race can be saved. I feel like a jerk.  A short time later, Todd and Stacey roll up, Mile 121, 17 hours and 57 minutes.  I was off-course the second time for 2 hours and 53 minutes. 

They tell me my crew is still at Huron.  They drop me off.  I apologize for causing trouble.  I am old enough to know that embarrassment is a temporary condition.  I just am really annoyed that I was the cause of unnecessary drama.  Everyone is happy to see me. They help me remove the mass of mud from my gear and we prepare to finish Liz’s race.

The adage is that hindsight is 20/20.  It is not. It is just a useful tool to improve the #nextime. The point of telling this story is to inform future CrusherEXers, shit happens ⎼ even when you think you’ve got it all covered.   If I could dial the clock back to the start and hit pause, I would have kept working on my Etrex to get the track to load.  I gave up on it.  That damn toggle switch is pesky and it was only loading the map, the trip page appeared to be active, the clock was running. There were a ton of people at Forestville that morning.  It was like a race day.  It was thundering.  We needed to leave.  We didn’t want to be on Hogback in the weather.  I figured – it’ll be okay.  There’s lots of people out there ⎼ I had also loaded the route to the Gaia GPS app and the Ride with GPS apps.

Be patient, future Crushers, don’t leave til you are completely ready.  It’s the beauty of CrusherEX, there is no starting line but the one you decide on.  Don’t rely on luck.  Todd tells you even if you have a ride partner, don’t share required gear.  We didn’t.  I had redundant navigation.  Two offline capable phone apps.  But they weren’t on my bar.  I did not have the visual I obviously needed to avoid that 2nd more critical off-route.  I didn’t listen to my brain when I crashed wondering where Bruce was.  I was just cursing, I was mad, I was distracted.  Future Crushers, don’t be me. 

Having the resources to adventure is a privilege.  I ride alone most of the time and most of the time where I live there is cell service.  Sometimes I send my ride link to a friend.  For long training rides, my friend, Janelle, who takes care of my dog, at least knows I’m out there somewhere.  But the U.P. is different. It demands your attention.  It won’t let you off the hook if your brain has a blip or two.

The second  off-course caused me to go into high alert (better late than never).  I had to get myself out because I couldn’t call anyone.  And I knew the people looking for me had just as many hurdles of no reception as I had.  I adapted, I got out of the forest to a road.  I alerted Todd.  He and Stacey were kind enough to pick me up, though I was fine to ride. 

I learned later that at some point, Liz’s Wahoo also froze, so did Josh’s.  Two friends who rode earlier in July had their Garmin’s freeze. Though route freezing can usually be corrected by stopping and starting the course on the unit, if you don’t realize it’s not moving, it might be too late and you’d be too far from the route for the cycling unit to help you find the course – especially in remote areas. 

This tale has a happy ending. As it turned out, Liz and I did proceed out of Huron.  But our CrusherEX attempt was ended in another deluge of rain and lightening with “enhanced” winds.  We loaded our bikes back up along with Josh and Ryan’s, and we all headed back to Marquette.

 I live to learn and I got a good fill of it doing the CrusherEX. It was an amazing day of riding. Liz rode her first 100-miler.  I stayed up all night!  This CrusherEX day wasn’t my plan but it was definitely an adventure.  The U.P. did not disappoint. 

Liz will come back to take care of #unfinishedbusiness.  My #unfinishedbusiness will probably look a little different, the #oldbitchesracing version.  I’ll probably go back and get those sections I missed.  I need a Lake sunset, Yellow Dog and more bug warfare and crappy trail in Mosquito Gulch.


You think this could never happen to you?  It can.  Stay alert, don’t be too confident in your checklists.  It’s wild out there ⎼ respect it and be prepared.  #getcrushing.

Thank you to Todd for giving us the CrusherEX opportunity (it totally lived up), to Liz for inviting me and trusting me to be a good guide (whoops!), to Chad for all the intel and encouragement, to Dan for the bike work, to Lindsay, Addie and Marty for being the best trail angels, to Josh and Ryan for enhancing our day with fun and friendship, and to my friends and family who probably worry a bit about me but encourage my passion.  I appreciate that a lot.  Memorable, teachable - The CrusherEX 2020 was awesome.

Over and Out,
The Old Bitch
Belt and The Old Bitch, July 18, 2020