Dark Divide 300

What's up with this Police line blocking the route?

Two Officers walk up to me in my worst state - sweaty, confused and impatient. 

"Can I just squeeze by on the sidewalk for this block?"

    "This is a homicide investigation, We can't let you through. Be done in a couple hours, if you want to wait" 

"I'm in a bit of a race situation"

    "Somebody was murdered! Somebody died!"

I didn't have the energy to get emotionally invested. I was in the last mile of the Dark Divide 300, a mixed surface Bikepacking race from Olympia to Portland. In the previous 40hrs I had travelled 330 miles, climbed over 30,000ft of elevation and slept little more than 20min. 

    It was 1:10am and the only thing on my mind was finish and get some rest. My sleepy brain decided rerouting would be faster than talking my way into being arrested. Keep moving, I had to keep moving. 

    24 racers sped off from Washington´s capitol and into the rugged Gifford Pinchot forest. Smooth paved roads flow into hillbilly highways. The road is speckled with signs indicating the rough ATV route up ahead. We were heading in the wild. 

    I tried something new with my setup this race. The bulky seat bag was a problem on the pre-ride. The sway made the bike feel clumsy and was awkward on the hiking sections. I opted to swap in a much smaller road bag and reinforce with a red cam strap. The idea was to loop the strap at the seatpost and shoulder control the bike while hiking. Overall it worked great! Except I had carelessly tightened it down over the derailleur cable and was stuck in a lower gear. Spinning like mad trying to keep up with the pack until I reasoned out why I wasn't shifting correctly. Gears are dumb. 

    The roads get quiet and turn into dirt. Riders at the front of the pack slowly thin out as they settle into their pace. Big climbs start as we pass stunning views in fields of fireweed. 

    After Ashford, the route goes onto a decommissioned road into a creek crossing. Fresh piles of dirt are built up to keep traffic out. With enough speed they might make sweet jumps but I certainly lack that skill. There's like 30 of these along this stretch and so fresh! I imagine placed by a devious racer with a plan to keep their FKT safe.  

 

 Meaghan Hackinen and I toured the route a little over a week prior (spoiler alert: She’s faster than me). Which gave a lot of insight on what to expect - a huge challenge and a shot at second place. I last saw Meg climbing out of the creek crossing after Ashford. It marks the base of the first substantial climbs. 

Being at the front end of a gavel race you get to know your competitors by their tracks. Andy wore Mezcals, Becca Gravel king SKs, Meaghan's Ikons. I watched their tracks and the lines they took. Imagined what gears they were riding and whether they sat, stood or pushed. Counting out treads put me in fourth. I wanted to keep close up front and skipped resupply options and only stopped to filter water off streams. 

I did plan on a water refuel at John O'Brian's, a popup support for the race. But I somehow missed it and ended up doing thirsty and dumb short stops for water. I absolutely love filtering water off the hillside. It's also an excuse to get off the bike for a refreshing taste instead of water bottle tea. Losing momentum I begin seeking out roadside filter options. 

At the top of a gravel climb I met a guy camped out and cooking up hotdogs. Another Dark Divide popup support! He hooked me up with a dog and a couple insights as to where the other racers were. The last person through was an hour and 15min prior. I reasoned that I was losing an hour and a half every 12 hours at my current pace. 

With the sun setting I knew I wouldn't make Juniper ridge by nightfall. Which is pretty unfortunate because it's absolutely an amazing spot. To see the views during the tour was a treat and a highlight of the course. During the race - for me it was total darkness. I could see little more than the tire tracks in front of me. Sometimes with shoe prints or animal tracks over them. There's animals out there and I'm following at least three of them. 

Juniper ridge is sandy, rocky, rooted, narrow and clumsy in the daylight. I walked a lot during the night. And by walking I mean tripping over my own feet. It was getting really late, I started hearing voices in the woods but couldn't make out the words. Was I going crazy all alone in the dark? 

26 hours in and the lack of sleep was getting to me. I reasoned a 15min nap would set me straight or get me a riding partner. I got in a 12min nap before Joey caught me. I frantically packed up my blanket and rushed to keep up. But the 12min wasn't enough. I couldn't keep my eyes open. 

I planned it out in my head. 15min nap and a sprint to Trout Lake to make the grocery store first thing at 7am. Coffee and a breakfast burrito became my motivation. I caught Joey leaving Trout Lake and had to make a choice. Skip breakfast and begin the morning chase or lose 45min to 4th place?

"I started noticing voices in the woods but couldn't make out the words. Was I going crazy all alone in the dark?"

The Trout Creek Grocery store and campground serve groves of PCT through hikers. Their guest book boasted over 1000 entries this year alone. Which explained all those voices I was hearing in the woods. It also has WiFi where I checked the tracker. Andy, Meaghan and Becca were fighting for lead 52 miles ahead and I had a 20 mile gap behind me. 

The new tire tracks ahead were a reminder of how great that cup of coffee was. Joey rides a slick on the back wheel, Beast! With renewed energy I bite into the last few mountains. After 30hrs my bite is more like a gentle gnaw. I really gummed into and slobbered over those peaks. Alas, I resigned to a chill pace and enjoyed the green shady sections and cool springs. I was in 5th and 5 is a pretty cool number.   

    Panther Creek is the start of the home stretch. It's a familiar point and where I would consider my home turf begins. Just up and over one last climb, around some cool campgrounds, skirting the perimeter of a prison then bombing back down to the flat lands. I was ready to make it happen. No time for sleep, no time for pictures, I have a New Seasons parking lot to get to! 

    I've lived in the Pacific Northwest for nearly 20 years and never have I seen such striking views of Rainer, Helens, Adams and Hood. I'm grateful for experiencing this route both slow and fast. During the day and through the night - each provided a unique experience with the landscape and wildlife. 

The last 20 miles of the course are a shock to the senses as civilization creeps in. I cross into Portland close to 1:00 am. My girlfriend finished hours earlier and I'm sure she is as exhausted as I am. No way she's waiting for me. Just get it done, ride to the parking lot and get your dot to bounce and ride home. 

    Which brings us to the homicide investigation. The last leg of my journey sprouted another leg! After a quick reroute I made it to the finish around 2 am. Glanced over a mostly empty parking lot and convinced I was alone, I began to chomp into another Bob's Redmill Oat bar. Finishes are the worst. 

I hear Meaghan and my Mom shouting from across the lot. My friends from Vancouver Fixed gear showed up to see me in! And they had some taquitos from the 7-11 rollers. It was like a dream. God damn trashy delicious dream with extra mayonnaise. Pro tip, upgrade any hot case item with extra mayo. 

Cancer and how I fell in love with the indoor trainer

Man that title is wack. 

    My cancer journey started in 2018 while competing in the TransAm bike race - A 4200 mile cross-country challenge from Astoria, OR to Yorktown, VA. I'd just crossed over the Rocky Mountains and into the grassy plains of Montana when the severe intestinal pain and rolling blackouts started. That's what the kids call it when it hurts so bad the lights go out. The physical exertion combined with dehydration had triggered my bowels to collapse. 

I rested in a shack for four days hoping the pain would pass. It didn't, my race was over but I refused to admit it. A lovely woman named Janice found me and took me to the emergency room. Barely comprehending where I was I required immediate surgery - made it to the hospital, hope the doctor is good. 

"My guts are on the table and ready for inspection, sir."  

    When I woke from surgery I learned two fellow TransAm racers (John Egbers and T.C.) also lay in the hospital fighting for their lives, not all of us made it. At the start of the race I was at my strongest. Post surgery, I was at my weakest. I couldn't go to the bathroom by myself let alone hop on the bike. My body just wouldn't allow it, it was a burden not a vehicle. I was mentally destroyed and physically broken. But I was alive and I can work with that. I consider myself lucky. 

"Keep moving til you can't keep moving. We are all survivors until we aren't."

    There are whole stories of loss, pain and guilt here. The surgery found multiple tumors that turned out to be sarcoma a type of soft tissue and bone cancer. Treatment would need to continue beyond surgery. With scary chemotherapy on the menu I was given the title of Cancer Survivor and with it a life sentence, not a death sentence. 

    Living in a basement apartment and sleeping on a couple pallets of wood my living situations aren't always ideal. I hid in the basement isolated from the world. Chemotherapy shut down my immune system and prevented my body from healing. My scarred up legs tell stories of misadventure and abuse. Sickness is one thing but a small infected cut could be deadly. Riding outside in the city was too risky and I needed to find a way to maintain fitness while retaining my sanity. 

    The smart trainer and a small fan were set up below a tiny ground level window. The bicycle framebag held my infusion pump and IV instead of bikepacking gear. By this time all of my hair had fallen out and the breeze on my scalp felt glorious! But also served as a reminder to be careful. The drugs I was taking prevented any muscle building and my goal was base miles with no injuries, don't die.

"Take'er easy friend, don't let the guts fall out. "

    At first my rides were very low exertion. I discovered Zwift and other training platforms. I rode virtual routes on FulGaz and daydreamed of finishing my next ultra. I treated it like playing a video game or watching TV. Speaking of video games, in another life I had the 4th highest ranked Shaman in all of World of Warcraft. Probably got me cancer. 

I kept logs of my food and fluid intake/output. My body temp and heart rate throughout the day. I got a hold of every test and scan my doctors would release to me. I compared nutrition against my blood work and injuries to PET scans! My body became an experiment and the trainer was another tool I could measure it with. Combined with Zwift it held a virtual familiarity of a MMORG. Dang video games got me again. 

Post treatment, I really started putting the trainer to use. I discovered my functional thresholds and target paces. I combined breathing techniques with anaerobic workouts. Made adjustments to bike fit and concentrated on cadence and form. Unlike the road I could ride as fast as wanted without holding back. The basement was safe space to test my limits. You cannot get a big enough fan.

During the pandemic lock down my housing situation had shifted. The trainer was relocated to a dingy unfinished basement.

Hornets would come out of the walls.
It wasn't safe. 

"That gross basement was my safe connection to the outside."  

My girlfriend and I would have workout dates using TrainerRoad.

I'd hop a group ride or race with Zwift. I even used my trainer to pre-ride a virtual version of the Borrego Springs course. Which is notable now that I have the in-person course record there. 

Same bike - Same course - Less spoke cards

24hr IRL Borrego

 

Cancer aside, I'm stronger than I was in 2018. I love the outdoors, planning routes and exploring new places. And I love my indoor trainer. It will never replace my outdoor rides, but it certainly has made them easier. 

24 Hours in the Desert

We finally made it to Borrego!

Every year folks from around the world meetup in Borrego Springs, California, with the goal of putting down as many miles they can in 24 hours. Mostly matched up against top of the line aero carbon TT bikes. I did it on a steel fixed gear I used to deliver pizzas with, the All City Big Block. 

My All City in the early days. Still smells of pepperoni.

I crewed for Meaghan Hackinen during the 2019 24hour World Time Trial Championships. She's fast, amazing and I love her. Meaghan had set a new Women's course record that year and I got this crazy idea I wanted to get a record of my own. The 24hr Fixed Gear Category was the target and I already had the bike!

We both signed up the following year and I started to focus on putting down big rides on the fixed. I debated gearing and started some structured training. I even rode virtual Borrego Springs laps with an indoor smart trainer. My efforts seemed wasted when our plans for 2020 were a bust when the world got Covid and the race was cancelled. 

But that gave me another year to dial it in. In 2021 we put down some solid rides and I broke the self-supported double century barrier. My target distances were getting bigger and my technique was changing. After some fast and playful rides around the Okanagan I was ready to tackle the 24hrWorlds. Unfortunately while travelling to the event I got Covid. Meaghan and I both had to go into quarantine a week before the time trials. We were out of the race before it even started that year. Still itching to use all that built up fitness we gave a self-supported 24hr a try. It really could have gone better.  

NW Competitive Adventure trackstand!

With a couple years of lessons and failures I was ready for 2022. My original target for my age group seemed too easy now. My appetite for miles had gotten bigger. I wanted the Overall Fixed record. Joseph Lawhorn set the course record in 2017 and I was going to take it. The goal was now 415.2 miles in less than 23 hours 54 min 48 sec. But could I do it on a bike built from the spare parts bin?

I've wasted so much time drooling over frames, wheels, power meters and aero cockpits. Seeking out marginal gains where they existed and I could afford. Just to be clear, I am not wealthy. I didn't and still don't have the funds to upgrade anything new. My equipment gains came from used parts bin at Bike Farm (a commuter focused bike kitchen) or the hand-me-downs from a friend's upgrade. Seeing all the beautiful wind tunnel tested TT bikes at the start line and the riders in matching kit that must have cost tens of thousands of dollars. I'd stress over whether my All City was up to the challenge rather than if I was up to the challenge. I'd say to myself "Forget marginal gains and train for major gains.", "Don't buy upgrades, Ride upgrades.", "Whoever trains the most, Wins".  

"But let's be honest, 

Stickers make it faster 

and my bike has a lot of stickers 

so it must be fast."

24hr Fixed and Women's record holders

It's not the bike that wins races, it's the plan. I had crewed for 24hr races and a couple RAAM events but never been the show. This isn't a bikepacking event where you live off chocolate milk and gas station hot cases. This is supported and plans gotta be made. Which has a great advantage because you can get anything you need to complete your goal. You just gotta have it there and make sure your crew can make it happen for you. Days before the race we gathered supplies from grocery stores and made food schedules for lap splits. Organized all sorts of clothing and tools speculating on various challenges and scenarios.  100% up time is the goal and no second can be wasted. 

Thanks to the years of training and encouragement I received from Meaghan Hackinen and the awesome support I received from my crew members  Laurie Hackinen, Carol Wray and Randy Horton; I was able to beat the Overall Fixed course record by three minutes thirty-nine seconds! 

The best Map I know

Please forgive this mess, I’m on a mobile and editing will be a nightmare. Still I am compelled to share this info because, Map Stoke!!

I’ve been using Strava to track my rides since 2015. I hoped one day it would give me useful data. That day has come for everyone! 

Take a look, here is the typical ride tracking screen.

Kinda dull, but there’s a layers option just below 2D on the lower right. 

Get in there and turn on the “Global Heatmap”. These are routes people have taken by bike during the previous year. 

Look at all those blue lines! That’s where people have been riding! Roadies, Mountain Bikers and Commuters all made those lines! Zoom in and you see the lines darken the more they are travelled. Dark blue lines mean Prime cycling routes. 

But it gets even better. Back to that layers screen.

Turn on “My Heatmap” and go to edit.

This will overlay your own heat map from your Strava tracks. Set this color to orange to differentiate between global and your own. 

There it is! Cycling routes in Blue and your own map lines in Orange. Where you you’ve been and where your friends have been. 

Finding and navigating new roads or rerouting during an activity just became super easy. Happy wandering! 

 

Before Now

I love that shirt.

It still fits.

You got stories, I've got stories -- why not share some stories? Let me take you all the way back to 1995. I was living in a small ski town with my parents and two brothers. Back then I thought myself a regular socially awkward fifteen year old. There is nothing regular about my social awkwardness, it's a honed skill. But I'll get to that later. 

The town I lived in did not have public transit. Correction, there was one bus that ran twice a day to a neighboring ski resort. This pretty well sucked for anyone who liked to do things. Especially without the use of a car and I had no interest in getting a car. 

I memorized school bus routes, resort shuttles, Greyhound and Amtrak schedules. Travel wasn't easy and I often ended up walking or  hitchhiking. I would like to ask my 13yr old self what gave me the courage to put my thumb out that first time. It was probably my brother, Chris. Thanks Chris. 

I got it into my head I wanted to get my tongue pierced. Like it would somehow help define the person I was. I also wore pants and hated hats, all of these things have changed. 

The nearest place to get this piercing was in the city 45 miles away. Also in another state. But hey, I heard they didn't ask for ID. This was much further and trickier than my usual adventures. I made a plan, Go multi-modal. I'd hitchhike with my BMX. That way I'd have transportation while in the city. Bringing the bike along was going to be an extra challenge. 

I rode eight miles to the nearest Interstate on-ramp and stuck out my thumb. After a good three minutes a red pickup pulled over and gave me my first ride to the big city, Reno Nevada! 

I arrived much earlier than expected and a bit lost. No cellphone, No GPS, I found a payphone with fresh phonebook to vandalize. I tore out two pages, one with the address of the shady tattoo shop and a city map from the back. This kid is going places they said, he's got so much potential they said. 

I remember the smell of pine trees was replaced by motor oil and hot exhaust. Cars were plentiful and if Reno had bike lanes in the 90s I don't remember them. In the City the rules are different and I didn't know them. Through side streets and sidewalks I somehow made it to the shop.  

I refused to lie in order to get this "procedure".  Accepting if blocked, if I heard a "No" it just wasn't meant to be. Surely they would deny me. I was 15, had no ID, had no appointment and arrived on a BMX.  

$50 to jam a needle through my tongue, the piece of jewelry was complimentary. 

Boom, done. My first Cafe Stop completed I could turn around and head home. With a bloody swollen mouth, I made my way to a freeway on-ramp at the edge of the city. 

Getting back seemed impossible. Maybe it was the bike or the the crazed teenage runaway vibe I was giving off. I was on that ramp for hours. Some places hold on to ya, Reno does that. After three or four hours with my thumb out I finally get recognized by a passing car. One of my dad's coworkers returning from Costco. Car packed full they kindly gave me and my bike a ride all the way back home. Success.

Naive but not fearless, I traveled further than I had gone before. My world got a little bigger that day.

vEveresting

I started the morning unmotivated. Groggy, rushed and feeling like this stupid challenge was just a pipe dream I dabbled with but ultimately wouldn’t finish. The challenge, Virtual Everesting. The group Hells 500 put forth this “simple challenge” called Everesting where you select a hill and just ride up and down it until you reach 29,029 ft, the elevation of Mt. Everest. I already had two failed attempts at this challenge. Time to go in for my third. 

Pancakes, we’re making pancakes! Had a nice breakfast of kodiak cakes, veggie sausage. It weighed down my belly and I hadn’t pooped yet. Before the attempt is started a weigh in is necessary to accurately simulate the road. The lower the weight, the less resistance. I gotta lose some ounces, I gotta poop.  All this food in my belly is slowing me down and I haven’t even started yet! 

169.6 pounds! Adjusted profile for added weight.

Okay, get it together, I gotta do this. Start this up with some extra pounds, fine. Bloated belly weigh-in done. Finally I hop on the bike and start up Zwift. My mountain, the Alpe du Zwift a simulated version of the famous French Alpe d’huez. It’s a pretty fun climb, the road snakes up the mountain from the jungle to snowy tundra. Steep switchbacks topping around 14% grade. Little alpine houses mark the side of the road. It’s super cute the first time you go up.

The hardest thing about being on a trainer for me is keeping my mind occupied. My plan was to loosely monitor my progress with a phone app while listening to music or watching a show. It would have worked great two days prior, when my phone was functional. However my phone decided to fail that morning. How can I keep my mind busy!? My playlists are played out! It’s just going to be me, in this room, listening to a squeaky chain for 13 hours! Oh look, a cute little house.

 

I gotta shit. 

“No can do buddy! HOLD!” I say to myself.

 

Each lap is about an hour and 15min of heavy exertion followed by 11min of downhill. Any breaks I take have to be done within the 11min downhill. And finally I gotta go with 20min left on the lap, endure fort. Everesting is a long game. As much as I want to hurry to the top, more stress on my body now will burn me out later. Stay strong James, you will get there when you get there.

I make it to my first downhill break. Set the timer and rush to the toilet to let loose what's on the inside. What the hell, I weigh myself again four pounds lighter. The game doesn’t know I’m four pounds lighter! That’s two kilos! That adds nearly a minute and a half each lap! Good God, What have I become to stress over such silly things as the weight of my poop.

Fastest way to lose 5 pounds.

Still cranky but two kilos lighter cranky. I felt this pressure in my head I just couldn’t shake. The clock was ticking, I rushed through my break grabbing a quick snack. Trying to sort out my technological woes and get in a good rant. An audience of my girlfriend and her parents? Perfect time to go full on crazy person. What did I say again? I am not in a good headspace and I can’t shake it.

My girlfriend Meaghan knows what’s up, she has a few Everestings and a virtual one under her belt. The perfect person to turn to for advice. I should ask her to make me a coffee. Gah! What am I thinking! I felt like I was falling apart in front of them and I was only on the first lap! Times Up, Get it together, Get back on the bike.

Lap two begins and my legs feel a little fatigue and my heart rate is getting up there. Am I going too hard? I scale my effort back. I need something to focus on other than a power number. If only that stupid phone worked. I bet I could figure out what’s going on with it while climbing up a mountain. Why couldn’t I?  I manage to remove the screen intact and discover cellphone repair and endurance cycling are not destined to become a mainstream sport. I set it aside for a less sweaty time. I gotta find something to think about other than how much my legs hurt. Something, anything. 

I found a solution and found a TV show to watch, some magic filled fantasy show with Kings and Queens. Predictable background noise that goes on for hours, I love it. Lap two had a rough start but that groove I needed to get into was starting. I was well fed, hydrated and finally this agitated pressure in my head was clearing. Keep pedaling, only another 10hrs to go!

Lap three comes around, not halfway yet. I’m covered in salt. For my break, Do I shower? Chamois cream up? Lay on the floor with my legs up in the air like a dead beetle? Just keep pedalling and watch your magic show. My times up the mountain are slowing but not terribly off pace. Everything is fine, I was at a virtual bike party playing a maple syrup drinking game. Take a swig of that sweet maple goodness every time you see a blinky road barrier. Or at switchback number four. Or just drink it, I might have a problem. Five and a half laps to go!

Lap four gets a bit fuzzy. I’ve been inside all day with only small glimpses out the window, it’s getting dark and I haven’t left the house. Did I just waste the day? No! I’ve been doing a really hard thing! This challenge is not for the weak! This is my Everest! Layers of sweat have formed salty crystals on my brow. When I finish this lap I will shower. This is the way of Virtual Everesting as told in the prophecy, it is My Destiny! My BirthRight! 10 minutes to shower, eat and rest the legs. Got to the top, pause the show, let’s go.

Am I a King? Am I a Dragon? Am I getting tired of pedaling my bike up a hill? None of the above. During my rests my heart rate would drop from ~150bpm down to ~100bpm. Between that and the spikes in blood sugar I can get a little loopy. I’m teasing the point of overexertion and relying mainly on my recovery heart rate to tell me if I’ve gone too far. My legs are pretty cool with this.

 Lap five gets past the halfway “basecamp” mark. It’s also more vertical ascent than I have ever ridden in one day. I look over my supplies, water, caffeine, maple syrup. I had prepared for about 12hrs of ride time and by the looks of my pace I had about 6 hours left. What if my pace drops? What’s the plan? The plan was simple, it was working and I was overthinking it. Steady, keep it steady.

My breaks between laps became a little longer and a little more relaxed. But not overly so, just an extra minute here or there. Minutes add up when you stop counting them. How they drag on the bike but spin out of control while off it. Stare at the clock but only when not pedaling.

 

Lap six is going smooth. Eatin potatoes and sippin that Canadian Gold at the blinky, I was sugared up but needed something more in my belly. You don’t have to chew Protein shakes and I figured now would be a great time to have a shot of caffeine. My Brother Chris had given me some instant coffee that was “too strong for him”. Death Wish Instant Coffee™ is too strong for mere mortals! I put half a serving in my shake and was good to go.

 

My heart rate has been on a rise, I'm sure it has nothing to do with the 200mg of caffeine from the shake. Recovery HR drops to around 100bpm then jumping right back up to the 140s immediately after returning to the bike. I was getting close to 7000 meters, the Everesting death zone. That’s what the website told me, and it’s a good thing I didn’t use the whole packet of coffee. I was jacked.

 

Lap Seven and I were on a date but I was looking at lap Eight and a Half. 10 hours in I had my pace, I was just watching the stats. Power 180w, cadence in the 60s heart rate not above 150. I had two hours left and the strain was clear. And this show, I am nearly done with the season!

 

Lap Eight came round, still fueled by a highly caffeinated protein shake and some bananas, my body was on autopilot. Pedal, stand, spin, pedal, stand. I forgot to tally this lap, I knew it wasn’t the end. It’s close but not close enough to the end. The end is 29,029ft, this lap means nothing. I look forward to my 10 minute downhill rest only to start Eight and a half.

 

Ok, maybe I also look forward to stretching and elevating my legs, eating food and chatting with humans in those 10 minutes. Which might drag into 15 mins. The rest and cooldown feels good, getting started again is the hard part. I recognize I want to linger and take longer breaks not because I need it but because I don’t want to warm up again. Get back to it, Finish This!

 

Lap Eight and some more, the final episode. Honestly I thought I would have spiked, bonked, or collapsed by now. Should I have gone harder? I can still push harder? Nope, not without my heart popping out of my chest. Stick to the plan, pedal and zone out on the wizard show or whatever I've been watching for the past 12 hours. It’s the epic series finale, the battle between light and darkness with loads of exciting explosions and special effects. The show fails to distract me. My attention is set squarely on the numbers ticking up past 28,000

 The last thousand feet or so I thought about other climbs. 

800ft to go! Just like one ride up Portland’s West Hills, I can do that. 

    300 to go, I have another Mt. Tabor in my legs. Easy.

And then I was done. 

I kept going a while, thinking I would stop at a number that made sense. I also needed to pad my elevation gain to ensure it was well over the mark. 30,000 sounded fun 13hrs ago but seemed unnecessary now. I was getting slower and less and less motivated. My perceived effort was increasing. I did the thing I came to do,  I could stop now. 

Made it to 29,406ft, never finished watching that show. 

Hells 500 Hall of Fame