Where to begin? First of all, Deep Creek Lake is fantastically beautiful. I rented the Maryland Park System’s only Yurt, which is just off the run course in the heart of the park. Amazing. Got here Friday afternoon so had some time to explore nearby Thayerville. There’s not a lot of things to ‘do’ but that’s the point. Two cups of coffee by the lake with a book, really, could I be happier? Went out for a quick ride on Saturday morning before the race meeting/bike racking and took in the first 7 or 8 miles of the course. I’ve never ridden or driven the bike route before, so the other 48 miles would be a surprise, but at least I would know which way to turn out of the park.
Perhaps the most notable thing about bike racking was the number of times I heard “You’re riding a disc?!” I didn’t think it would be so unusual, but in the end only three of us had one. Myself, another guy and Bjorn Andersson. Ironically, Bjorn and I are both sponsored by HED (though I suspect his deal is a little better than mine) so we had a matching wheelset. But I was not to be swayed from my wheel choice, funny looks be damned!
The race itself started at a very civilized 8:30 AM. After lining up in a swim pen at 6:30 last week for Nations, this felt downright indulgent! Not to mention that the start was less than a mile of downhill walking from my Yurt. Got my stuff situated and said hi to Josh and Jan Beck and then headed down to the very clean lake for my 3rd wave start. After years of morning swim practice I know I’ll never enjoy getting into cold water in the morning, but here the swim is the only part of the race with no hills!
The swim went well. I knew there was a relatively small field of pros and a swim prime up for grabs, but was leery of gassing myself with such a long day ahead. After a few minutes another guy and myself were pulling away from the pack and we stayed dead even until the first turn around. (A giant inflatable turtle, very hard to miss!) Coming back I just kept things long and smooth as we started passing some of the folks from the second wave and by the time we reached the second turnaround at the giant swan (Also hard to miss!) I had a little bit of a gap. At the final run in to the beach I passed a very familiar looking swimmer in a red cap that I thought might be Josh but I wasn’t sure. Of course, I knew that if it was him I’d surely see him again on the bike at some point when he passed me back!
Hit the beach in a time of 24:25, very decent, especially considering how much I’ve been shunning the pool lately! Unfortunately, Bjorn went a low 23 and knocked me into 2nd, so no cash for me! Headed up to transition and spotted one lonely and familiar Cannondale in the pro rack, but I knew Josh would be flying along minutes behind me. Took a little extra time to put on a vest and arm warmers, though wisely ditched the gloves I’d planned on wearing. The sun ended up staying out and making the extra clothing unnecessary (and the vest wasn’t very ‘aero’ either) but I definitely didn’t want to end up shivering like I did during October’s Bassman, so I went the ‘better safe than sorry’ route. This would end up being my theme for the day!
Ahh, the bike, the part of the course that really makes this race what it is. It doesn’t take long for the road to head up and the signs to start. (They dot the entire course and are perhaps the best part of the day) There’s a short kicker climb up and then a relatively flat section to start things out...it definitely lulls you into a false sense of security. But my legs felt much improved over last week at Nation’s and I was just getting into a good groove when that lonely Cannodale came rocketing by powered by our own Josh Beck. He looked strong and determined to chase down the leaders.
Since I knew nothing about the course except that it was extremely hard and very steep, I thought it would be wise to keep things a bit on the conservative side. After all, this was only my second race of ½ Iron distance! I did pass a few people on the flat sections, but the downhills at this race are nearly as scary as the uphills. Course recon would have helped a lot as I got passed by a few guys here, but some of those turns were sharp and in the early morning light it was tough to see all the potholes!
The first 18 miles went by without incident and it was nice to cruise along the river for a bit, though I didn’t see many other riders. I think I was the ahead of most and the ones in front of me were going pretty fast. And then, Westernport, home of the notorious ‘Westernport Wall.’
I hit the stop light that marked the last level ground for 30 miles and shifted into my small ring, then said a silent prayer that I would make it up the wall…and the six miles of climbing that follow it! Grabbed a bottle of water at the bottom (just to add some weight of course) and started up what may be the toughest 6 blocks in all of triathlon. You can actually stay seated for the first three, but I was fully out of the saddle by the last two. I caught a glimpse of Jan Beck walking back down so I assumed Josh had gone through a while before. Passed one rider who was weaving up the second-to-last incline and then I was on it. Wow. The thing is steep. And if that was all, it would still be damn hard. But it’s also got a surface like an ancient cobbled road and I’m convinced a big part of getting up is luck. I had a nice rhythm going for the first 2/3 and managed to avoid all potholes, then hit a doozy and thought I was going down. How I stayed balanced I’m not sure. My rear wheel was slipping as I leaned farther forward and my front wheel still felt like it was ready to lift off the ground! Somehow I got in one good crank just as I thought I was really done for and then I was clear. Whew! My brick in the wall was secure. It was a close call but I’d made it! Of course, there’s still six miles of relentless climbing up to the continental divide, but at least I wouldn’t have a spectacular wipeout sitting on YouTube in the morning!
Just beyond the wall was a clothing drop where I ditched my vest and arm warmers. I’ll admit, I wasn’t hating the 30 second respite from pedaling, but soon I was on my way again, heading up, up, up.
One great feature of the course is the naming of the climbs, Tour de France-style. Each one starts with a sign telling you the elevation, length and average grade. The key term here is ‘average grade.’ I can easily climb 8% seated, but 8% average here usually meant 200 feet at 18% followed by 300 feet at 4%. Forget rhythm, these things are about survival! I passed a few more guys on the way up to the top of Big Savage mountain, the top of which had a sign that read ‘It’s all downhill from here (if you’re water)!’ Unfortunately they out-descended me and reached the base of ‘Killer Miller’ with about a 30 second gap.
‘Killer Miller’ is the other ‘Hors Categorie’ climb of the race, and though it looks like a passive, almost cinematic hill, it’s anything but! I rode the next 1.3 miles out of my saddle, mostly with a 34-27 gearing, and it was STILL brutal. Managed to pass about a half dozen folks here and with relatively straight descents following I didn’t get passed again on the bike for the rest of the race.
There were more, ‘smaller’ climbs along the way, and they never seemed to end, but the last few miles were relatively flat and I was actually able to assume an aero position again leading into transition. I snuck in with a time of 3 hours even, good enough to give me the 8th fastest bike split of the day, but my quads felt like they’ve never felt before. Run a half-marathon? Suuuure….
Keeping ‘cautious’ and ‘conservative’ as my buzzwords for the day, I started my run with the goal of keeping it as restrained as possible. Not only did I not know how ‘savage’ the run might be, but I also knew I’d never run on legs this toasted before. Amazingly, I was able to keep my effort at an easy jog and still hold 7:30 miles. I was surprised how decent this felt, but I wasn’t going to question it!
About 2.5 miles in the run headed up into the campground where I was staying so I knew it would be steep, but at least it was relatively short. If figured if that was the worst uphill, it would hurt but I could survive it on the second loop. I headed back down to the main road which rolled past transition and out towards the second turnaround. It’s amazing how ‘flat’ rollers can feel after running up a 15% grade in the campground!
Of course, even though the bike course is the best known part of the race, I think it needs to be pointed out that the run is pretty damn ‘Savage,’ too! The second turnaround comes about five miles into the run, but is it on the road? Oh no. Just as you get to the bottom of a hill you’re directed to a trail that heads up a gravelly washout in the woods! The Pinchot trails have nothing on this. A lot of clearly dejected people were simply hiking up, but I somehow maintained a ‘run.’ Truth be told it was only slightly faster than a walk, but it was more about personal pride at that moment. After what feels like forever the aid station at the top finally appears. Thank God, I thought, we can head back down now. But in a devious twist, you still have to run another 50 yards to get to the actual turnaround! Just cruel…
As I neared transition I saw Bjorn and the other leaders on their second loop. Josh wasn’t with them, but I knew he couldn’t be far behind. Sure enough a few minutes later he appeared looking incredibly fast! It was very strange to see him moving so quickly past other athletes who looked like they might soon need medical attention. (And, yes, I include myself in this group!)
Came through for the end of my first loop and still felt remarkably relaxed. Just 6 ½ more miles and it would all be over. It almost didn’t seem possible. I have to say, the race is so beautiful and the crowds so enthusiastic, the whole thing seemed to go by much faster than Eagleman.
Headed out for the second bit still feeling good. Caught a glimpse of DC Mayor Adrian Fenty and tried to show him some DC love. He kind of acknowledged me, but seemed to be in his own world of pain. Poor guy probably has lots of people shouting to him all day, it must get tiresome trying to respond after a while… I still felt pretty good, but that all changed around mile 8 on my second trip up into the campground. Did this part get steeper?! The piano that had been hovering all day was starting to come down and even the downhill section back to the main road felt rough…
By mile 9 it was tough to keep my miles under 8 minutes and I was really start to look forward to getting around that final turnaround at the top of the fire road. As I headed up the rocky ascent one more time it was so tempting to walk, but I just kept telling myself I could make it for two more miles, two more miles, two more miles…
By the time I made it back down to the road I was cooked and with just a half mile to go the world started to get a little swimmy. It was an…interesting sensation. Finally, about 500 yards from the finish, I succumbed and walked for about 15 seconds. It was that or keel over. Kind of weird being that I was so close to the finish that I could literally hear it, but my body was NOT happy. After that little breather I started running again and was soon in the mercifully short finish chute. Hit the line and immediately found a spot to sit for a good 20 minutes. It was feeling unlike any I’ve felt after a race.
But I wasn’t the only one. That race takes so much out of people that my 1:46 ½ marathon was actually the 9th fastest of the day! I’m simultaneously proud of having such a strong run relative to the rest of the field and amazed that what turned out to be an 8:07 average pace was able to place me so highly! That says an awful lot about this race…
In the end I won my age group and was the 5th overall male finisher, 2nd amateur with a time 5:15, so I was very happy indeed. My prize was a great SavageMan lithograph signed by Dave Scott. Definitely one of the cooler things I’ve ever gotten post-race. Josh Beck had a hell of a day, too, but that’s his story to tell, not mine.
Sorry for the length of this one, but I can’t think of a race that could come close to this one in terms of style, fear, panache, support and overall coolness. If you’re reading this you HAVE to think about doing it.
And for fun, here are some of the other cool signs spotted on the course:
Before the wall: “Welcome to Westernport, where the weak fall”
After the wall: “How’s that aero gear treating you?”
“Course Designer: Kyle Yost” followed by his phone number
“15 MPH minimum speed limit”
“For sale: triple crank. $400”
Starting up Killer Miller: “Killer Miller, ONLY 22%”
On Killer Miller: “Who is Leo Miller, and why does he hate you?”
Approaching the Killer Miller Aid Station: “EPO – 200 feet”
Mile Marker 40: “Last climb on the course” (before 6 more climbs…)
Mile 45-ish: “Make sure you save something for the run!”
And many, many more…
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