Unbound XL Race Report – Christie Tracy

(grab a snickers. . . you’re gonna be here a while!)

Before I begin, I just want to share that I was personally SO happy to see 25 women registered for the XL this year! It is so encouraging to see this increase in attendance – it means that there are more women out there discovering that what was once considered “impossible”, is in fact NOT. They are out there pushing themselves both in their training and on race day to find (and exceed) their limits, and in the process increasing the competition level, pushing each other to continue to improve/strive for bigger and better, and break down more “impossible” barriers. I truly believe that each of us is stronger because of that push (or pull) we are receiving from each other – either striving to reach a level that seems out of reach, or on race day, pushing ourselves beyond the point we thought possible to stay just ahead of those doing the same behind us. Thank you to every incredible woman that I met last week for making me smile, and pushing me to the point of tears. Let’s do it again (soon, but not too soon. . lol) Okay?

Also before I begin, I want to sincerely thank EVERY friend, family member, and teammate, as well as (OBVIOUSLY) Jamie, and my Coach, Matt for their dot stalking and messages of encouragement throughout the race, as well as staying up on fatigued legs of your own at the finish line to cheer me across. For an Unsupported Race, I’d say that I was pretty well supported. . . more on this later!

My Unbound XL journey started about a week early. We arrived in Emporia on Wednesday the 26th so that I could pre-ride some of the more gnarly MMR / B Roads in the daylight afternoon hours after I got off of work. Anyone that knows me personally knows that I am the definition of #RoadieOffRoad. . . I LOVE gravel, but technical riding is far from my strong suit, and I wanted to be as prepared as possible for these sections before I hit them in the dead of the night on race day. I did most of my pre-riding on 40mm tires, but decided to switch to 48s the day before the race b/c I wanted the extra confidence and stability that they provided (in hindsight, VERY good call!)

Another advantage of arriving early was that I was able to spend some time visiting many of the local Emporia Businesses and getting to know the community members. We felt welcomed with open arms the entire week, and just part of the community! (Shout out to the guys at Do-B’s who accommodate my crazy dietary requirements and special requests with a smile on their faces, and not a hint of irritation – you guys ROCK!). I also had the opportunity to visit the Vendor Booths for ABUS, Voler, and Saris, and get to put faces with the names of some of the best sponsors in the business, and get to know them a little better – and that was a real treat! Finally, I was able to squeeze in impromptu pre-race photo shoots Nathan and Morleigh of Snowy Mountain Photography (for ABUS), and Cody Mann (for 3T), and it was such a treat getting to know these amazing artists and watching them work their magic. . on me!

I sat down the evening of June 2nd and developed my race plan/strategy. I developed a plan that I believed would 1) enable me to finish the race (Primary Goal), 2) Secure a Podium Spot (Stretch Goal) and 3) Land myself on the top step (EXTREME Stretch Goal, but not outside the realm of possibility going in, given my current fitness level). I knew that minimizing stopped time would be crucial, and planned accordingly. I started the race with 3L of CarboRocket/Fuel+Hydration in my frame bag & 2L of Nuun Hydration in my Camelpak. I planned to go out hard to stick w/ the leaders, and blow through the stop in Eskridge, with the assumption that 5L of hydration, although heavy, would easily sustain me through the Alma stop at mile 118. I planned to stop only 3 times – once every ~100-120 miles, and keep each stop to 10 minutes or less, for a total stopped time of <30 minutes. . . . All I had to do at each stop was buy 2 gallons of water, dump some CR in, shake, and dump into my bladders. . that couldn’t possibly take more than 10 minutes, right?!?

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OH, THE BEST LAID PLANS!!! . . . .

As 3pm on Friday approached, I lined up in the front row at the start line in awe of it all. This was FINALLY happening. Our community was out in full force, and about to begin one heck of an epic journey together, and the excitement/joy was palpable. I just closed my eyes and let it sink in for a moment. Then the bell rang, and off we went! After an uneventful neutral start, things progressively picked up at the pointy end, and I found myself having to dig fairly deep (as expected) to stay top ~10-15 wheels. By 10 miles in, things were already splintering, and I found myself in the lead group of ~10 just a few wheels back from Amanda, with Lael settled into the group a bit behind us. One of the guys pulled next to me and said “Hey – you dropped Lael!”. . .and I just laughed. . hahahaha. . we were at mile 10 of a 357 mile race. I had hardly “dropped Lael”. . . hehehe. It did, however, feel good to know that I was nailing my race plan so far! I knew that Lael and Amanda would likely ride the Technical Stuff MUCH more proficiently than I would, so I had hoped that, by skipping the Eskridge stop and sticking with the leaders, I would be able to put a little bit of cushion into them before we hit the rough stuff. It wasn’t long before the wheels started to fall off though. In our small group of ~10, I was sitting last wheel, and barely hanging on. The guy in front of me kept opening up a 3-4 bike length gap, and then surging forward to close it down. . over and over again. I knew that I couldn’t sustain this and that I’d be much better off IN FRONT of him, but I just couldn’t manage to drive quite hard enough to move up. . . As predicted, after the 8th or 9th hard surge, I blew up and was unable to hold his wheel as he chased back on for the 10th time. . #whompwhomp.

That’s okay though – it was still early! I took advantage of the brief time in no man’s land in between groups to bring my HR down and pair my PM, which I had failed to pair properly at the start. When “Lael’s Group” of ~8 caught me, I jumped in and settled in comfortably with them for a few miles. Here’s where the first of my planning mistakes became clear: I was carrying ~11 lbs of water + several pounds of batteries, lights, and tools. I didn’t weigh my bike fully loaded, but I would guess that it easily tipped the scales north of 40 lbs. We had been gradually climbing since the start, and the hills were starting to take their toll. Lael was running quite light in comparison, and is a beast of an athlete on top of that, so when she started taking to the front and surging up the hills, my legs simply said NOPE! Those that have raced with me know that I blow up quite spectacularly and have no poker face whatsoever. When Lael heard me imploding mid hill, she actually yelled back “C’Mon Girl! You’ve got this!” . .and I wanted to! But my legs had another opinion on the matter 😉

After helplessly watching them ride away, I settled into a comfortable-ish endurance pace, and focused on bringing my HR back down, as well as fueling and hydration. I’m honestly not sure where I lost their group, but I’d guess that it was likely somewhere between mile 30 & 35. As I turned the corner to roll through Eskridge around mile 40, I was shocked to see Lael and several others outside of the C-Store dumping water over themselves! I instantly switched it back to Tempo Pace because I wanted to get “out of sight out of mind” as quickly as possible, and I also wanted to get to the turn on to Bradford Road before their group. In my pre-ride, Bradford had been 2 miles of deep, sticky PB mud. I knew that it had likely dried by now, but would be full of ruts to high-side on and would require some technical riding skills. I also knew that Lael possessed a lot more of those than I did, so I wanted to get to Bradford first so that she’d have to come around me rather than my having to try to match her pace through the mud ruts. Success (Kinda. . ) I got to Bradford before Lael’s group reached me, but just barely. They overtook and passed me about ¼ mile in, and as I expected, Lael was cooking along at a much higher pace than I was comfortable with, given the terrain. I opted to let the group ride away so that I could safely navigate the remainder of Bradford, and then settled back into a comfortable No-Man’s Land Endurance pace. I never saw either Lael or Amanda again for the remainder of the race.

I motored on at a comfortable pace until sunset, just as I was approaching some of the first super technical (to a Roadie like me!) roads – Echo Cliffs, Bobcat, and Christy to name a few. I turned on my lights, pulled on my “big girl panties”, and started chanting my mantra for this race on repeat in my head: “Safe is Fast”. I can’t go into a lot of detail about the miles between ~70 and my first stop in Alma at ~118 because they were a terror and panic attack filled blur. I have not spent enough time offroad to grow an appreciation for super technical gnar. I have broken my hip and several collarbones being thrown from bikes, and have a healthy appreciation for what it feels like to be flung over the handlebars to meet the ground at speed. Add jagged rock to the ground that you’d be thrown onto, and that is not my idea of a party. Approaching these sections of road in the dark is the stuff that literal nightmares are made of for me, and I have to say that I’m proud of myself for even lining up for this race after pre-riding these sections in the daylight, and knowing what lay ahead of me on race day. I’m even more proud of myself for RIDING the overwhelming majority of these roads. Did I dismount and walk a few times? Sure. Did I have literal tears streaming down my face and panic attack induced hyperventilation happening while carefully descending while watching my wheels skip and jump all over? Yep, sure did. Did I scream up into the sky out of frustration when I slowed to a point that I had to dismount and could not ride a section that I knew I should have been capable of riding? Uh-Huh. But I did it. I successfully and safely (albeit slowly) picked my nightmare apart piece by piece and showed it that it couldn’t defeat me. I got through it, and I’m damn proud of myself for that. How did I do it? Every time I’d make it through a really tough section, rather than focus on how many more scary sections remained, I’d remind myself that “I JUST DID THAT”. I just did it once or twice, or however many times, and it’s going to get a little bit easier every single time I do it after this. And it did 🙂

Unfortunately, this is also where it became apparent that I’d made a critical miscalculation in my race plan. I found myself completely out of fluids 100 miles in, and due to the technical nature of the course, it took me nearly 2 hours to cover the remaining 18 miles between the time I ran out of water and when I hit the Alma C-Store. Although the temperature was dropping, the humidity was rising, and I found myself severely dehydrated and overheating, unable to put power into the pedals even after I’d cleared the technical B-Roads, and having to switch gears into “survival mode”. It was WAY too early in the race for it, and I knew it, but I wasn’t going to get taken out that easily. My planned 10 minute stop was a joke at this point though. When I finally rolled into Alma, I had to stop for a full 30 minutes, bringing my core temperature down, allowing the Pedialyte to do its job, and cutting the headlight off of my helmet and throwing it in the trash. This was another HORRIBLE idea by the way. I had mounted a HEAVY head lamp onto my helmet, and the weight of it caused my neck to start aching by hour 2. By the time I finally hit the rest stop in Alma, I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to hold my head up for another hour, much less the rest of the race. My neck and shoulder muscles were aching unbearably and screaming for relief. After cutting off the light and tossing it, I had to lay on the ground with my head on my helmet for several minutes in order to let those muscles rest and reset before resuming. As I lay there willing my body to absorb the fluids and my neck to stop aching, Sandy, Cynthia, and Rachel (4th, 5th, & 6th place women) pulled into the gas station, and I watched helplessly as Sandy took back off after a brief stop, taking over the 3rd place spot on the road.

As soon as I was able, I got back on my bike and resumed pedaling. I was still feeling the effects of being without water for 2 hours, but was feeling better than I had before the stop, and just settled into a pace that I was comfortable with, and tapped it out. I worked with one other racer for a bit, trading off turns, but found myself alone again after I surged up a couple of hills, trying to chase 3rd place back down. After what felt like hours of chasing, but was probably only 60-90 minutes, and passing several guys that I thought might have been Sandy until pulling alongside them, I saw the glow of Sandy’s tail light off in the distance. I picked up my pace to a low Tempo effort, and blew by her as fast as I was capable of in order to try to get an immediate gap. I didn’t look back – I just kept hammering as hard as my body would allow, once again trying to get “out of sight, out of mind” (which, by the way, is much harder to do at night with head and tailights!). I glanced back after about 30 minutes and didn’t see any headlights in the distance, so I allowed myself to settle back into an Endurance Pace. This is how most of the remainder of the evening went – just tapping it out and trying to focus on holding a steady effort. There were a few more technical sections, and I managed to fall over once. Climbing a pretty steep/rocky hill, I hit a rock funny and my bike came to a stop. I attempted to unclip, but my cleat was glued to my pedal with mud, so my forearm kissed the ground in epic fashion. My bike somehow landed on top of me, and both legs decided that they were going to cramp spectacularly while i was under the bike, so I lay there with a gashed forearm bleeding all over the place, screaming bloody murder because of the unrelenting leg cramps for a few minutes. A few guys passed me while I was on the ground and offered assistance, but between screams I breathlessly mouthed for them to “JUST LEAVE ME”. Hahahaha. I knew it was just a flesh wound that was bleeding like a stuck pig due to my HR, and that I’d be fine once I got going again. And I was right 🙂
I hit the infamous “Little Egypt” at about 3:30am, and braced myself for another round of panic attacks. I ended up walking more of it than I would have liked, but I rode a LOT more of it (safely!) than I could have even dreamed a year ago, and I chose to focus on this positive as I continued on.

Little did I know that the “hard part” of this race had not even begun. . . I rolled through Volland mile 176 at 5am, shortly before sunrise, but was unable to locate the Volland Store Water Pumps that had been advertised in the Race Bible. I had them flagged in my route and knew where they should have been, but for the life of me, I could NOT find them. I knew that there was a community park that had bathrooms with sinks about 9 miles later in Alta Vista, so rather than waste more time looking for the water pumps in Volland, I continued on. I still had Water/CarboRocket in my frame bag upon arriving in Alta Vista, but had drained my Camelpak, so I filled it with sink water and a few Nuun Tabs, topped off on Chamois Creme, and got back to it.

Sunrise was a beautiful thing and breathed life back into me, but also brought the looming threat of increased temperatures, and BOY did the temps rise!

I made it to the Council Grove C-Store about 9am, and was already overheating, so I took another long break, drank a coke, a gatorade, and filled my bladders back up with cold water and electrolytes/fuel. I think I was stopped for about 25 minutes at that one. . much longer than I wanted to be, but it felt necessary for safety.

I honestly lose track of space and time after Council Grove. I’m not sure where along the route many things occurred, just that they DID occur while I was riding across the surface of the sun, suffering from heat exhaustion, and unable to find even the slightest bit of shade. I began to overheat early in the day on Saturday, and it only got worse as the day progressed. I had fluids and electrolytes, but they were warm and did nothing to help cool me. I was nauseous and couldn’t stomach eating anything, and sipping at warm fluids was a forced effort as well. I stopped in one of the very few shady spots somewhere along the course, and a very nice couple came out of their home. The looks on their faces told me that I must look every bit as horrible as I felt. They begged me to let them help me – they offered me the opportunity to sit in the air condition to cool off, and also offered cold water, but I was uncertain if taking either of these things would result in a DQ, so I politely declined, while thanking the profusely. They offered to pray for me, and I accepted their offer, and felt their prayers throughout the remainder of my race. As I was clipping back in to take off, I noticed that my Head Unit had died. I’d had it trickle charging on a large Anker Lipstick Charger and in my delirium, I couldn’t figure out why it wouldn’t turn back on. After fumbling around for a bit, I realized that the Zipper to my HB Bag had broken at some point (who knows when!), and the Anker that had been trickle charging the head unit had flown out of it, so it had been running on its own power and ultimately burned through all of it. Fortunately, I had a couple of spare lipstick chargers with me, so I dug one out of my seat bag and got it plugged in and working and then set off once again. Side Note – I found out later that another XL Participant had problems with his charger early in the race, and it was not working. He knew that his Head Unit would not survive the entire race and did not have a backup. Shortly after this realization, however, he happened to spot my Anker laying on the side of the road, still fully charged. He plugged it in and it worked (fully charged!), and enabled him to finish the race! I am so glad that my misfortune, which really wasn’t that big of a deal at all, enabled someone else to continue on in their journey 🙂 Things really do happen for a reason, y’all!

My thought process as I continued on: Pedal, Pedal, Pedal. My right collarbone and Shoulder are aching badly from the pressure of my camelbak (plate from a former surgery complicating things), but there is nothing I can do about it, so I try to just focus on anything else. Forearm is sore and bruised from my middle of the night tip over, but fortunately is allowing me to cruise tame sections in my aero bars w/o too much pain. Knees are tender. Toes are Numb. Heat is Oppressive. I can’t breathe. I can hardly push 100 Watts. I start to feel dizzy and my vision is blurry. It is so damn hot, and there is just no shade in sight.

A guy rides up next to me, looks over and asks if I’m okay, and I simply shake my head and respond “No. Heat. So Hot”. He says “you really don’t look good”, and I respond “I know”. Just. Keep. Pedaling. Don’t Stop. Just Go. Go. Go. Don’t Stop. He slows to ride alongside me for a bit, and tell him to just go, but he refuses. He tells me that I need to stop and cool off, but there was literally NOWHERE to do so. We were in the middle of a long stretch of rolling gravel road with the sun directly overhead beating down on us and no shade anywhere in sight. My head unit read 110 degrees. We roll up on a farmhouse that has a truck parked in the driveway with two people in it. The guy I was riding with says “You need to stop and ask them for water”. All I could manage to reply was “DQ”. He shook his head and surged ahead and pulled into the driveway and shouted to get their attention. When I got to him, he put his hand out and said “You need to stop. You’re not ok.”. I knew he was right. By this time, the woman was holding out a thermos of cold water to me and offering it. The guys said “You won’t be DQd because it’s a stationary farm house that is available to anyone that rides by it”. At that point, I knew I had no choice but to stop and bring my Core Temp down. I sat in the shadow of the house out of the sun, letting the breeze blow across my skin, and dumping cold water all over myself. I don’t know how long I sat there, but it must have been 20-30 minutes. I slowly started to regain brain function and clear vision. The nice couple in the pickup truck started asking me about the race, and I got to tell them a little bit about Gravel Racing, Ultra Distance Racing, and the amazing community. This, coupled with their generosity and kindness brought a smile back to my face, and I continued on.

More of the same until I rolled into Cedar Point. It’s 3:30 PM and I’ve been racing over 24 hours. Initial timeline and race plan WAY out the window. . .I’d be nearly finished by now according to that. . .HA! My Wahoo BOLT reads 108 degrees. My vision is blurring, I can’t breathe, and I know that my core temperature is once again much higher than it should be. There is a house on a corner with cold well water available to all. I am no longer even thinking about a Podium position or placement at this point. I’m in sheer survival mode. I have 77 miles more to cover, and I have to bring my core temperature down again if I’m going to be physically capable of finishing it. I dump the refreshingly cold well water over my head and body, fill my camelbak with cold water and more Nuun, sit in the shade for a few minutes, and then set off again. ~15 minutes spent at a stop that I wasn’t planning to stop at all. But whatchagonnado?

As I set off this time, I reminded myself of my initial and primary reason for doing this race: In 2019, I did the DK100 on crutches still recovering from a broken hip in order to prove to myself that I was not going to be forever broken, and that I was harder to kill then that. Finishing that race in 2019 was my way of proving to myself that I was going to be okay and that I wasn’t done with this sport that I love so much just yet. I returned to take on the XL this year in order to prove to myself that I was fully recovered – that I was so much stronger than I felt inside sometimes, and that my body was capable of so much more. To prove to myself that I’m just getting started in this incredible sport, and that despite the challenging terrain that was so far “outside of my element” and WAY outside of my wheelhouse, I could do anything that I put my mind to, with enough preparation, training, and willpower. But I had to get across that dang finish line to solidify this for myself. . .so onward I went!

At some point, either shortly before or after Cedar Point, my BOLT instructed me to take a left. Surely it must be mistaken, I thought. . there was no road there. It was just a field with hip high grass swaying in the wind, and a barely perceptible single track line that was deeply rutted out and hardened into cement. This was WAY outside of my skillset to ride at this point in the race, with faltering equilibrium and hand/eye coordination. . I attempted a couple of pedal strokes, but immediately came dangerously close to high-siding, so I dismounted and proceeded to push my bike through the hip high grass. Disheartened once again, looking down at my navigation showing me that I likely had nearly 3 miles of hiking ahead of me, I opted to just focus on the task at hand. One step at a time. One foot over the other. My feet were aching, and my shoulder and collarbone hurt SO bad, but I couldn’t focus on that. One Step. Another. Another. My mind started drifting. . “4th place is probably riding this and is definitely going to catch me here. . I HAVE to go faster”. But I could not. So I hiked on, my bike seemingly getting heavier with each step. The worst part was, this was NOT Coyne Creek that I had been warned about, so I knew that I had another, possibly even worse section of this to contend with down the road.

Eventually, I got to rideable single track, remounted my bike, and continued on. A bit later (again time/space all a bit muddled here), I turned onto Coyne Creek. More of the same. There was a ~10 minute stretch that I was hiking (read bushwacking) SO slowly that my BOLT did not recognize that I was moving at all, and auto-paused. . .for 10 full minutes I was hiking at < 2mph. But I maintained forward momentum and eventually reached rideable dirt again. Back on the horse, and onward toward Cottonwood Falls!

I reached the C-Store at Cottonwood Falls (312 miles in) at about 6pm. Once again, I took a much longer stop than I had initially planned. I sat in the beer cooler for about 5 minutes letting my core temperature come down, and sipping on a Gatorade. I purchased 2 gallons of water and a coke and a Reeses. I went outside, dumped some of the water over my head, and filled my camelbak, but realized that I’d hardly put a dent in the frame bag. . I’d been carrying an extra 5 lbs of lukewarm to hot fluid around on my frame for many miles doing me absolutely no good at all. . what an idiot. I should have dumped it and replaced it with cold water, but again, my brain was simply not functioning at this point. Additionally, while the Coke had initially sounded good to me, my stomach wasn’t so thrilled after eating the Reeses and drinking the Gatorade, so I left the unopened Coke and extra Gallon of water outside of the store, hoping that the next cyclist through would find it. On I went.

45 miles remained. Even with my “worst case” projections, I should have been finished by now. I couldn’t dwell on that though. Fortunately, the heat was beginning to subside, and I just pedaled on. Around this time, the XL course met up with the end of the 200 course. After spending the large majority of the last 24 hours on my bike in no man’s land without a soul in sight, it was a welcome sight to see other cyclists on the road. Pretty much every 200 mile cyclist I encountered was moving along faster than me, but nearly every single one of them had a kind or encouraging word to share as they rode past. This was the home stretch. Around this time, my focus also shifted. I’d been in “just survive” mode for the bulk of the last – hell – I don’t know how many hours. But with about 2-3 hours remaining, I started thinking about all of the friends, family, teammates, sponsors, my coach and hubby that had helped get me to where I was right now. Many of them had stayed up nearly all night long watching my dot and willing me on or praying for me. I had received countless texts on my head unit in very dark times during my ride telling me everything from “I believe in you” and “I am SO PROUD of you” to “You’ve got this, kiddo”, “Keep pounding it out”, “Virtual Hugs” (You KNOW I love a good hug!!), “BA-GAUK!” (Inside joke that almost made me fall off my bike laughing when I needed it the most), and my favorite “You are THE Christie Tracy. You’ve got this” (hahahahaha!). This massive community of dear friends that have done so much to support me physically, emotionally, and with some of the best equipment possible to give me a competitive edge. These people have hung in there with me through thick and thin. Through the low points (broken bones and long recoveries) and the high points (Racing for Team USA and winning National Championships). They have never left my side or let me down, and I OWED it to them to do everything in my power to finish out this race strong, and hold on to that Podium Spot. I mentioned earlier how I felt more supported in this Unsupported race than I ever expected, and this is why. I felt the love and support of these friends so strongly throughout the race, but was nearly overwhelmed by it and my appreciation of them in the final hours. This is what got me through. I picked up my pace as much as my battered body would allow. I rode up hills that I shouldn’t have been capable of riding up at this point (especially carrying all that extra water weight like a big Dumb-Dumb! Hahah), and every time my body protested, I told it to suck it up because I owed one hell of a debt to these amazing people. With this single minded focus, I rode through the night and across the finish line into the arms of my husband and teammates who had all waited it out to cheer for me on their own exhausted legs after completing their own races many hours earlier.

I’d managed to hang on for 3rd place, and finished with a final official time of 31:56:42. My Wahoo BOLT showed stopped time of 3h19m, however I would guess that nearly an hour of this was auto-paused time during hiking/bushwacking sections. Still that is a FAR cry from the <30 min of stop time that I had planned at the onset. . like I said. . “The best laid plans”. . hahaha

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I learned SO MUCH about Unsupported racing during this race, and I made many mistakes in both my planning and execution – and that’s okay! This was really my first Unsupported Ultra Race, and the terrain was SO MUCH WORSE than anything I could have possibly imagined, even in the worst of my nightmares! Hahaha . That only adds to the sense of accomplishment though, and I (almost) never make the same mistakes twice. I will take everything that I learned form this experience and use it to better inform my race planning and strategies for similar events down the road. I’ll do another post some time soon about lessons learned, but this one is quite long enough as it is, so I’ll end it now with a simple note of gratitude. Thank you. Thank you to EVERYONE who has supported, followed, or cheered for me along the way. I felt your support in every bone and muscle of my body during this race, making it hard for me to consider it “Unsupported”. Onward and Upward to the next one!

I can’t end this post without giving a quick shout out to the amazing people behind the companies that help support and empower me in the pursuit of success in this amazing sport:

• Mat Seagrave with M3GA Coaching – so much to say here, but no words.
• Jamie Tracy – the other half of “Team Tracy” and husband, Crew Chief, SAG Support, Chauffer extraordinaire
• The ABUS Cycling & Mobile Security Team – best helmets in the game!
• The Voler Apparel Team – the white Velocity Ascent Jersey that y’all custom made for this race was AMAZING!
• Bob & Becky Cummings and the entire ABUS Pro Gravel Squad – love you guys!
• Tadd Armbruster / Atom Composites (those 650bs were CLUTCH!)
• 3T Bikes – The Exploro RaceMax is a dream!!
• The VanDoIt Family for enabling us to live this amazing life and chase these dreams
• The BiSaddle Team for keeping my tushy comfy no matter the miles or terrain
• iKor Labs for the best CBD Recovery Products around
• Nuun Hydration and CarboRocket for keeping me fueled and hydrated properly
• Shane of Traughber Nutrition for helping keep me fueled properly with a happy gut!