The Bearscat 50

The Bearscat 50 is significant race for me for a number of reasons. First, it’s my home turf. Waywayanda State Park, where the race is held, is less than 15 minutes from my house. These are the trails that I ride for fun and training more often than just about anywhere else. Second, I’m a former member or Black Bear Cycling, who puts on the event. I’m still friends with many of the members of that team, and still ride with several of them. Third, my entire new team, with the exception of Monte (who placed 12^th in the open at the Mohican 100 the previous day) was in attendance for this one. Finally,  I was on my way to a 7^th place finish in the open class there last year when I flatted, and ended up just outside the top 10. I wanted revenge.

As a Masters racer this year, I was shooting for another podium finish. I’ve ridden Waywayanda so many times that I know every newt, bear, and turtle in the park by name.  I know all the best lines through the numerous rocks gardens, and the right spots to recover,  reach for bottle or take in gels. In other words, in my mind I have the home field advantage.

Since my teammate Bill Christman was racing in my class as well, we talked strategy before the race. The plan was to sprint off the start so we could get a good position going into the singletrack and from there try to work together for the whole race, or as much of it as humanly possible. Bill is a local too, and since I’m chasing points in the M.A.S.S. Endurance Series (of which Bearscat is not a part), I would give Bill the nod if we were still together at the finish. In exchange, he would do the same for me at the uncoming Stoopid 50 (which is a MASS race).

At the start, it was perfect race weather; 60 degrees going up to 75. More than 100 open men took off while the Masters riders waited. I saw Ken Welch and Terry Blanchet on the line, who were the two biggest threats to our 1-2 podium hopes. After 5 minutes we were off and racing. Ken and Terry got the hole shot into the singletrack with Bill and I in 3rd and 4th. I was shocked at how wet and slippery the rocks were…it had been perfectly dry in yesterday’s day’s pre-ride. In what seemed like a bad dream, we caught the back of the open field just as we were about to cross the Pumphouse Trail rock bridge. It was a traffic nightmare on par with the LIE at rush hour…with of big groups of racers walking the rock gardens that I’d spent months practicing to clean. We were passing riders by the dozen once the trail opened to doubletrack. We had gone by Terry and kept Ken in our sights. The acceleration needed to make all these passes was keeping my heart rate in XC race territory.

As soon as we turned onto Cherry Ridge road, Terry made an aggressive pass on the climb to get back into 2^nd. We were in that order when we hit the most technical 4 mile stretch of singletrack of the race…the dreaded Lookout/Pickle/Rattlesnake threesome. Terry bobbled in the rocks on Lookout and Bill and I flew by. We passed dozens of racers in the next few miles of mud and rocks. Somewhere along the way I lost sight of Ken in front of me and Bill behind. When I popped out on the Cabin Trail fire road, I was strangely alone. I kept pressing forward, not wanting to Ken to get away, but held back a little in the hopes that Bill would bridge up to me. By the time we hit the Pines singletrack, Bill was back on my wheel and we were working together again. I stayed in front and set the pace and Bill sat on. We never saw Terry again.

We rode the majority of the course that way, slipping and sliding through the rocks, jumping off and running when it got too sketchy or when we hit traffic. On the Porcupine trail at about mile 17, we passed Ken who had pulled off for a “natural break”. It felt good to be in the lead. Ken jumped on with us and we rode together for a while. Ken got back to the front and pulled for a mile or so until we turned into the wet and loamy Plymouth Lane trail. On a short, steep climb laced with slick roots, I slid out and lost sight of Ken. He was drilling it and I didn’t want to risk blowing up to stay with him…there was a lot of racing left to do.

We ground our way through the deep mud holes and short, rocky climbs of Hofferline trail, where we caught our teammate Daniel.  He was riding well, but clearly having some mechanical issues with his bike. Tough break!  After bombing down Black Eagle to the park road, we took turns pulling into the start /finish area. Ken was there taking on new water bottles and we did the same. 25 miles down and another 25 to go. I was feeling ok, if not great, and Bill was in about the same state.  

Ken rolled out about 20 seconds ahead of us but we could see him as we climbed the park road towards Pumphouse trail. The rock gardens on Pumphouse were easier this time around without all the traffic but we still ran the snotty little uphill and one other gnarly spot. Ken was out of sight, but the heart rate display on my Garmin kept telling me not to push any harder for fear of cracking before the finish, so I just rode my pace while Bill stayed close.

We caught up with TJ on the climb up Lookout;  he had been stung on the hand by a bee and was having trouble gripping the bars. I was psyched to have another teammate to ride with, but by the time we reached Cabin, we had lost him. It was business as usual for the next 10 miles. Then just as we reached the start of the boney Sitting Bear trail, the thunder rolled and the skies opened up. Thick sheets of rain came down and washed over us. At first it was actually refreshing, but after a few miles the trails had turned the trails to streams, and rocky sections that had started to dry out were now icier and more treacherous than ever. Jim’s rock bridge, which I can almost always clean, had to be walked, and Porcupine was slow and slipperier than I’ve ever seen it. This was going to be a slower lap for sure.

 Bill and I rode wheel to wheel for the rest of the race without major incident. There we some small victories along the way, like cleaning the slimy roots on Plymouth that caused me to lose Ken on lap 1. We flew down the last decent of Black Eagle and hit the road for the home stretch. Bill came around on the final road climb and gave one final push to the line that was so hard I nearly puked. But I managed to stay with him and we finished looking like a black and red, Skull & Bones streak. Being able to do a race this long and brutal with Bill made it so much more fun… it can get pretty lonely out there after 5+ hours. The plan to stay together had worked flawlessly...well, except for the part about Ken Welch beating us both. Kudos to him for riding a very strong race!

After washing mud and sweat off bike and body, we grabbed some tasty BBQ and caught up with our other teammates and friends, sharing the day’s war stories. It was a mixed bag of a day for the team. We had a few DNF’s but Rog pulled a solid 8^th in the open and Bill occupied the 2^nd and 3^rd steps on the Masters Podium. Bearscat was one very tough race… with arguably the highest percentage of technical singletrack of any endurance race in the east. We’ll be looking to repeat our podium performances this weekend when the team travels to State College, PA for the legendary Stoopid 50!