“A festival or gala is usually a happy, fun event, usually and ordinarily staged by a local community, which centers on and celebrates some unique aspect of that community and the Festival.” from wikipedia

The Deschutes River Valley Time Trail Festival was not a happy, fun event for me this year. It was character building.

The DRVTT consists of three stages. The first is a 25 mile loop that climbs up out of the town of Maupin on Saturday. This is a steep climb of about 800 feet of elevation gain to a plateau. It is mainly flat until you reached the descent into Tygh Valley where you enjoy another flat section before turning onto to road to Shearers Bridge. This road has a couple of nasty bumps before dropping you down to the Deschutes River. There you return to Maupin on the flat river access road.

My time was a very respectable (for me) 1:22:00, beating my best time of 1:23:09 by over a minute. I attached the first hill very hard. But I can never claim to be a climber and the fellow who started a minute behind me caught me very, very quickly. No worries, I expected that. I just kept working hard. Before the top of the climb, I did manage to catch and pass some of the women who started before me. However, just before the top, my old Race Across Oregon teammate, Mark Newsome, caught and passed me. Since we were at the top, I managed to keep close to him as we crossed the plateau. Then, just before the descent, I passed him and started flying down toward Tygh Valley. Then a strong cross wind hit me and my bike began to shimmy.

A bike shimmy is never pleasant. It has caused me to panic. But not this time. I pressed my right leg against the top tube, loosely gripped the handlebars and let the bike slow down. The shimmy lessened, but it stayed with me all of the way down the hill. I was disappointed that I could not pass the two riders in front of me during the descent. At the bottom of the hill and during the roll out, I started peddling again, but this only caused the shimmy to worsen. The only cure was to let the speed drop until the shimmy stop and then start racing again.

With the bike under control again, I peddled hard, passing the two riders in front of me before the turn to Shearers Bridge. I was a bit surprised that Mark was not catching me as he is faster on the flats then I. I was watching him in my mirror but did not see him until the last short climb before the descent to the Deschutes River. He was coming hard, but I had enough of a lead on him to stay in front and I pulled away on the descent.

The last portion of the course was along the river access road and when I turned onto it, I found that I would be fighting a fierce head wind all of the way back. I tried not to let it bother me, to keep my hard work up, but the peddling was difficult. More of the faster riders who started behind be began to pass me, and I tried to stay with them, but each slowly pulled away from me. Again, I expected to see Mark, but I never did.

After crossing the finishing line, I did a short cool down and then returned. There I ran into Mark who told me that his bike shimmied too, but this was a new experience for him and it affected his confidence. As such, he took the descents slowly, which explains why he never caught me. Later, in talking with other racers, many of them experienced bike shimmy on the descent into Tygh Valley. Mark and I were not the only ones.

After the first stage, I took a shower, ate lunch and then took a nap before the second stage that afternoon.

The second stage is only 8.1 miles long, but climbs nearly 2,000 feet. And it is all climbing; there is no relief, not downhills at all. The winds had picked up in the afternoon, and I knew that this would be a tough stage. And it was. I started hard, but at a level of exertion that I though I could maintain for the entire eight miles. I did pretty well holding my power, but nearing the top, the winds really began to push the bike around. As such, my effort lessen and my power output dropped. I finished in 51:44, over seven minutes slower than last year, but at nearly the same power output. Blame it on the wind.

The third stage began early Sunday morning, and it is a monster of a stage – 23 miles up Bakeoven Road to the summit and then 23 miles back down to the river. The elevation gain is over 3,500 feet.

After two stages, I was not in last place in my division. I was in next to last place with a 1:27 cushion. However, 1:27 on a 46 mile stage is nothing, but I thought I might be able to stay with him, to shadow him and not finish last in my division. That was my hope.

I started the stage two minuted behind my rival. During the steep portion of the climb out of the Deschutes River Valley, I kept him in sight. Once the grade lessened, I could see him up ahead, but he seemed to be pulling away. I worked as hard as I could, but he slowly pulled away and out of sight. None the less, I kept up my effort all of the long way to the summit of Bake Oven Road. As I approached the turn around, I kept hoping not to see my rival. I wanted to be very close to the turn around before I saw him. Then, shortly before the turn around, I saw him. I marked the location and glanced at my watch so I would know just how many seconds/minutes I was behind him.

The turn around did not go well for me. The road is narrow and three of us were attempting the turn at the same time. However, it was not a long delay before I got myself turned around. Then the head wind hit me. And it was strong. Last year I flew down Bakeoven Road, but this was not to be this year. I worked my way to the spot where I had seen my rival, and saw that I was seven minutes behind him! With the two minutes that he started in front of my and the 1:27 cushion I had, I realized that he had a big lead on me.

I thought I could make it up, but the wind worked against me. Instead of being able to recover during the descent, I found myself working hard in an attempt to catch my rival. It was not to be. I soon lost power and it became evident to me that I would not catch him. With the strong head wind, I found myself just working to get down the hill. I was no longer racing, but just trying to finish. when I crossed the finishing line, 3:30:35 had elapse. This was almost an hour longer that the year before and I was told I looked like death warmed over when I finished.

I was disappointed in my effort and the result, but some days you have fun, and some days fun is harder to have.