THE SOLSTICE - TRIATHLON THE WAY IT USED TO BE
I don't know how triathlon used to be - I wasn't there. But this little
race sure makes it seem like an intimate sport, more of an organized
recreation than an intense competition.
The Solstice Triathlon, in La Grande Oregon, is now in its 4th year;
I've done the even ones. It's an Xterra race, which means several
things. Xterra has been around for ten years now, starting with one
race in Maui (which has evolved into their World Championship), and
expanding to 5 continents, with big races in several European and
Antipodal nations, as well as South Africa. They boast a national race
series - 40 odd local races, 4 regional ones, and a national
championship in Lake Tahoe. The Lake Tahoe one is, all things
considered, the best race I've ever been in. The course, the
atmosphere, the people, the competition - all seem to hit my sweet
spot. But to get there, you Must Qualify. No lottery, no charity spots,
no sob stories. You've got to do three local races, and place high
enough to get in. It's a masterful growth strategy. The incentive -
race at Lake Tahoe in October - is well worth the effort - place high
enough in at least three races to qualify for one of the spots in your
region (there are nine of them).
So here are the things I like about racing Xterra. First, they guard
their franchise. They've always got a rep at the race, ensuring that
there is a certain level of quality and ambiance. Second, it's
off-road. Meaning mountain biking and trail running, and quite possibly
cold or choppy water, or no oxygen (or all three). I have no clue how
to race a mountain bike fast. For me, it's like skiing - something I do
to have a little fun. So I get out of race mode, and into
accomplishment mode. Third, there's a lot more variety to the
experience. In regular triathlon, there are fewer ways to get a unique
race experience: different distance, elevation changes, and weather
permutations are about it. Off-road, the trail permutations are almost
endless: gravel, sand, steep ups and downs, rocks, grass, creek
crossings, fallen logs - the environment is constantly changing. Its as
much about strength and skill as it is about endurance.
The Solstice is held at Morgan lake, in the Blue Mountains above La
Grande in Oregon's Northeast corner. This range, while somewhat
mesa-like (no rugged rocky peaks here), still catches updraft weather
from the Palouse below. At 4100 feet, the lake was cold (57F this
year), and high enough to suck a bit of oxygen from the swimmers. It's
only 1000 meters, but 19 minutes is plenty long in those conditions.
The sunny morning had shifted to clouds, with impending drizzle, by the
time I turned my bike off the little gravel runway onto the first
single track around the lake. A deceptive little trail, filled with
embedded rocks causing rapid speed and direction shifts, the first
hike-a-bike comes less than a mile in with the walk up from the lake to
the mesa top. We enter ranch country, going basically down down down on
a grassy jeep trail, then up, up, up on a pea gravel boulevard. At the
top, about 1500 feet up, we enter a world of goat trails, which go
either straight down, narrowly thru rocky defiles, or across a high
meadow full of bogs. And then end up with a final hike (remember the
first downhill - the start of it is 23 degrees), and back thru the
woods around the lake. By this time, it has started to rain, and my
plan to strip off my bike shirt to sleeveless top goes out the window -
I should have kept the extra sleeves on, too!
Two years ago, I raced this one pretty hard, but still got beat on the
run, which, while pleasing to the eye, is really brutal. Except for
that little bit around the lake (done at the end here), its all on what
appears to be smooth gravel road, or grass covered ATV track. BUT ...
it's all either steep up, steep down, or, the part that's flat, is thru
a cow-pasture, with the grass grown so high it covers rocks and hoof
holes in the dried bog.Two years ago, in the cow pasture, I was trying
to pass another 54 y/o,
after jamming thru the downhill thinking I could make it up on the
flats. Ha! The flats are anything but at foot level. Two-thirds of the
way thru, I fell, tearing a glove, ripping some skin, and dislocating,
or breaking, my left pinkie finger, which STILL hasn't healed back to
normal.
This year, by the time I get out of that (and head back up hill), my
shoes are sopping from the rain and dew soaked knee high grass. Going
up the final rise, I see ahead of me one of the women who passed me on
the bike. I catch her in the woods, half way thru the rocks around the
lake. Then, I spy another target, really slogging it out on this tricky
surface. I've got a lot left (I've been saving it for the Ironman next
week), and pick up the pace. I can see that it's Chris Robinson,
an Xterra fanatic from Vancouver WA who's three years my junior. I used
to beat him, but he's really worked on his biking, and now makes up the
advantage I have on him in the swim and the run (I got about 9 minutes
on him in the two disciplines in this race). I think I can get him as
we come out of the rocks onto the last smooth gravel curve into home.
He hears me coming, and gets into his own high gear. I step on the gas,
but discover my shoes each weigh about three pounds, and my usual kick
is more of a flail. No Chance in these conditions, so I lose to him by
3 seconds. And, because this is Xterra, we embrace at the finish,
laughing at the conditions (it's pouring rain now). I commiserate when
he shows me there's no pedal on his left crank. He claims to have
finished the last half of the race like this - a dubious proposition,
given how fast I saw him going when he passed me about an hour into the
bike, mashing with both feet.
This year, though, I achieved all three of my goals: don't get hurt,
finish the race, and feel good on the run. I got my points, and need
two more races to make sure I go back to Tahoe on October.