So here it is, almost three weeks later, and I finally have time for a write-up. Or at least the beginning of one. It's been rather busy at work the past few weeks.

I didn't take any notes during the race so I hope I remember the important stuff. My theory on events and recall is that if you wait long enough, you'll only remember the good stuff and not fill your narrative with fluff. My goal is to put the story down on some virtual paper from a crew perspective in the hopes that future generations of rookie (and Wookiee) race crews can learn some things or just enjoy a good yarn. Yes, I said 'yarn'.

Stream of consciousness, here we go!

FRIDAY - The day before the race.

I took the day off, but my life-partner did not. The plan was to make some signs, load the truck and generally prepare for the trip. Later on we would drop the significant other at work and head out to the starting hotel to take care of all the business you have to take care of.

Sign making took much longer than expected. There's your first lesson. Make the signs for your support vehicle well in advance. Don't waste time the day before the race making signs. Also, don't make the signs too big. It helps if you do a practice run of affixing the signs to your van before you leave. People (us included) tend to not think about the contours of the van, tracks for the sliding doors and other junk that gets in the way of duct tape.

Also, even though duct tape works really well for sticking stuff to a van, it leaves all kinds of crud behind. I wasn't involved in cleaning it off, but I suspect it wasn't fun. Save up some of your pennies and invest in magnetic signs. You won't regret it.

We passed the van and bike inspection with little trouble (apparently there is an unwritten/published rule about having reflective tape on your rims. There was a little grumbling at the time, but later it proved to be a brilliant idea as far as night visibility is concerned.) The night before the race there is a mandatory pre-race meeting. I found it to be interesting, but there wasn't much presented that was helpful (addendum to rules, route changes, etc.) My advice about the pre-race meeting is to READ THE RULES for the race. Read them MORE THAN ONCE. This is important, so I'll say it again. READ THE RULES. Then, send one or two crew members to the pre-race meeting. This is also important. Someone from each team must be there (they take attendance, in a way) but your racer's time could be better spent getting an early lead on sleep time or eating a big steak.

After the meeting we went to the store to get some food and I headed off on the 80 mile round trip to get pick my little lady up from work and bring her back to the hotel. Mind you that the van was already decked out in 'Team Wookiee' signage, so that was pretty sweet, driving that thing around the greater Los Angeles area.

After we got back I had a Denny's dinner and made it to bed at around 11:00pm.


SATURDAY - Race day!

I'm not a morning person, but for some reason I woke up on my own about 10 minutes before the alarm came on at 5am. I must have been excited or something. That never happens to me.

After going to the bathroom and getting dressed, the little lady and I headed out to the Chevron across the freeway to gas up and get ice. I think we got lucky on the ice, as they had a decent amount left, but I would imagine that every gas station and grocery store within a mile of the race start has a run on ice at the last minute. We picked up 11 bags of ice (I have no idea why I got that number) but it turned out to be exactly enough for the two coolers we had. So there's another lesson: 11 bags of ice is the perfect amount. The guy behind the counter at the Chevron thought I was nuts.

Our racer enjoyed some time at Denny's (there's a tip. The Holiday Inn near the race start has a Denny's in the parking lot, so you can walk over there and eat any time you want. Sweet!) though I'm not sure if he ate anything. He probably should have. We loaded up the truck and headed to the start of the race about a mile away.

Wookiee put his bike together and wandered around the parking lot. I was still a bit sleepy so details are sketchy in my mind. I do remember meeting 'Bike Guy' and found him to be very nice and friendly. Actually, now that I think about it, everyone I met was friendly. I met a few crews at the time stops and sometimes out on the road. Other riders were very friendly, too. Even Shanna Armstrong (Dik-Dik) said 'Hi' to us (and everyone) as she passed the crews on the course. I didn't find any ego out there from anyone.

So the race eventually started. Check out a little video of the race start. Turn your volume up to hear Wookiee notify us of his sub-standard nutrition mix. Ha ha. Funny stuff.

After the racers leave the parking lot the crews jump in their vans and start ...


Stage 1 - Santa Clarita to California City

The first thing I can say here is that if you are a rookie crew in The Furnace Creek 508 it helps to have three people in the van. While one person drives and the other navigates, the third can sleep. With just two people on an unfamiliar route, and having to tell your rider where to go, I don't see how two people can do it unless they've driven the course before. It helped that I went over the map and my Google Earth route a few times, but once you're out there at ground level it's a lot different. We had three members on the crew, I suggest rookie crews do the same.

At the start of the race the crew gets to drive up 24 miles to wait for the racers to show up. We got there with all the other crews without incident. Then we waited. I don't even remember how long. I walked up and down the street a few times. Two guys had a Frisbee. Some folks had a hackey sack to pass the time. I think I just took pictures, and took a leak in the bushes across the street. Riders eventually started showing up, including ours, and our friend Tapir. The atmosphere at the first stop was pretty cool. Everyone was milling about, shaking hands, introducing themselves, etc.

After most of the riders passed, we carried on, leapfrogging our rider over the hill and across the short flat on the approach to Windmills Climb. This section had a spectacular view. If you've never driven across the desert through a windmill farm, you should. The downside (for the riders) is that the windmills are there for a reason: it's windy. I think a lot of riders had problems with this hell, which without the wind would have been a piece of cake. The descent from here lead down to the town of Mojave, home of the oft mentioned jetliner graveyard and holding field, for lack of a better description. I thought the course went closer to it, but I was wrong. It's still a pretty cool thing to see from a distance. Burt Rutan and his team flew Spaceship One from the Mojave airport. It's a famous place, I tell 'ya. If I'm not mistaken, Mojave was the first (and only) place where I gave too many instructions to our rider and he made a wrong turn. I think it was actually a wrong 'non-turn', but when it was actually happening I was in the bathroom at some taco joint. I got out of the bathroom in time to help flag him down and direct him the right way.

Which brings me to the subject of bathroom breaks. Man, you really gotta plan these things out. It's easy enough to pee in the desert, but I had had to go number two for some time, almost since the second we left the start line. I don't remember exactly how long it was before we got to Mojave, but that's basically your first opportunity to have a non-public bio break. My advice to you is to try as hard as you can to evacuate before you leave the hotel in the morning. You won't regret it.

The rest of the stage was a straight jaunt to the first time station in California City. There are some businesses and such off the course a bit in California City, but there wasn't much time to mess around there. We made some soup, or maybe it was some ramen, or our rider here using the JetBoil (just about the most awesome thing ever.) I suggest all crews get a JetBoil, plus the French Press attachment if your rider likes coffee. I don't camp and don't race, but I'd consider getting one of these just so I could play with it in the garage. It could probably grill a steak if you asked it to. At this point Wookiee was already feeling 'oogie' and sick to his stomach. This did not bode well for the rest of the race.

After we sent our rider off and were getting ready to leave a local drove up in a pickup truck and asked what was happening. I told him about the race and he seemed very interested in it. If you're not from California or have never been to the high desert, you should know that the area is kind of an odd place. It's isolated and desolate, but in areas it's densely populated. I wouldn't go so far as saying it's where all the rednecks live, but it certainly has an old west feel to it, and hospitality to boot. This guy was cowboy incarnate, except he was driving a late-model Dodge pickup truck that was bigger than my house. Anyway, in some areas of the country you'd think locals would be upset about a bunch of bikers storming through their town. But this guy seemed genuinely interested. After describing to him where the route had been and where it was going he seemed flabbergasted that folks would even attempt it. He seemed especially concerned about the forthcoming climb into Randsburg. After about five minutes of chit-chat he wished us luck and we were both on our separate ways. After gassing up and taking another bio break at the 76 station across the street we were off to ...


Stage 2 - California City to Trona

The beginning of this stage is straight and long. Very easy for the crew. There were not many hills until we got to the climb into Randsburg. I honestly don't remember much about this part of the drive, except arriving in Randsburg. I wanted to spend more time in Randsburg. It's not the kind of place one would just pass through while driving anywhere else. It's literally almost in the middle of nowhere. It resembles a ghost town that has since been re-settled. It literally had structures that looked like they had been there for 100 years and abandoned, but mixed in were houses that looked no more than 30 or 40 years old. The town in nestled into the side of a hill that looks to only have one road in and one road out. There was an antique store there (closed) that, believe it or not, I was dying to go into. It looked to be straight out of the movies, but I assure you Randsburg is real. I don't know where the residents shop for food or what they do for fun, but it would certainly be an ideal place to retire to and disappear. I had visions of church bake sales and old folks gathering at a neighbor's house to play cards on a Saturday night. Definitely a different pace from a different time, and right here in Southern California. Who knew?

After our rider arrived we gave him some water and/or whatever it was he was drinking and sent him off on his way toward Johannesburg. I think there may have been some confusion about the course in this area as no less than three passing riders asked me if there was a turn coming up. Luckily I had familiarized myself with the map and could tell them to keep going until you can't go any more, then turn right. I hope none of them got lost and only remembered that Wookiee gave them bad directions or something. By this point in the race I think a lot of people are getting tired, hungry and maybe a little bit delirious.

Most of the rest of this stage is a blur to me. If memory serves we didn't quite make it to Trona in daylight. We had to stop and put the lights on the truck and bike and whatnot. I do remember it was late dusk as we rolled into Trona. I believe this is where we switched off drivers, which means I was driving for around 11 hours straight.

The Texaco that's mentioned in the race course description has changed to a Chevron, but there's only one gas station there in Trona. And of course it was rather crowded. I didn't have to go to the bathroom at this point, but my crew and rider did. I hear the bathroom in the Chevron it Trona is very clean, very luxurious and quite a treat to visit. We filled up on gas here, but I'm actually not 100% sure we really had to. If you know what your mileage is and can make it to Furnace Creek without filling up in Trona, you might save yourself 20 - 30 minutes of time. We'll have to plan this out for the next time. The other thing I remember about Trona was there were bats flying overhead at the gas station. I haven't seen a bat since I lived in Illinois (moved out in 1982) so it was pretty neat.

Our rider was still having stomach problems, which would continue to worsen as he rode on. I'm sure we must have fed him and watered him here, but I don't remember. It was nap time for me and I was ready to take advantage.


Stage 3 - Trona to Furnace Creek

Let me start by saying that this stage really sucked. It was difficult to even drive it at night. The start of this stage wasn't so bad (and remember, I wasn't driving) and maybe it was the reality of driving behind a bike at night for the first time, but it was a little bit nerve-wracking. At this point bikes were passing us and we were passing bikes and you just wonder if the stars will align one day and someone will get hit by oncoming traffic one day (even though there was maybe only half a dozen vehicle going in the opposite direction at this point.) After crossing Panamint Valley we arrived at the base of the hill leading up to Townes Pass. It's the dead of night, you can't even see the hill in front of you, but what you can see is a string of flashing amber lights from the rest of the support vehicles in front of you, snaking back and forth up the hill in front of you like evil Christmas lights strung on a dead Joshua tree. It was intimidating just to look at it (ironic since you couldn't even see it) and I was just trying to sleep in the van.

Wookiee was feeling miserable at this point. We had tried everything, every different kind of food, drink mixtures etc., Mylanta, you name it, to calm his stomach but nothing was working. I remember taking a leak out in the desert under the full moonlight (which was awesome, by the way) then taking about an hour's nap with our rider in the van. I want to say it was about 11pm at this point. It was probably about midnight before we finally started up the hill.

I think I fell in and out of a light sleep for the next couple hours while Wookiee struggled up the hill. It got colder and colder as we got up to Townes Pass. Ultimately I think it got down to about 53 degrees on the peak. It doesn't sound that cold, but it was windy and miserable up there. The heater in the truck was nice, though. I believe I took over driving again somewhere near the top and followed our rider down to the floor of Death Valley.

After we got to the bottom of the hill, our rider feeling even worse, I think we took another nap for about an hour. It must have been about 5am by this point. It was dead quiet and eerily light out because of the moon. I wandered off for a few minutes and peed again before we went back to the van to sleep. We eventually pressed on.

The sun came up before we got to the time station at Furnace Creek. It seemed like it took forever because we were surrounded by mountains. On the second day of the race crews have the option to start leapfrogging their rider again, or continue to follow close behind. As our rider was in bad shape at this point we opted to follow him as much as possible, so the lights stayed on.

At the time station at Furnace Creek we were informed that there were only two riders behind us. We had lost a lot of time on Townes pass, partly because of the naps I'd guess. Partly because our rider was half dead. We brewed some coffee for our rider and took bathroom breaks. The gas station was open but we didn't need gas. They didn't have a snack shop, though. There were a lot of motorcycles coming through on their Sunday rides while we were there. We saw a lot of chaps (and I don't mean blokes.) Our rider decided to press on, though I don't think his heart was in it at this point. He expressed a little remorse at letting us down, as if the rider was there for the benefit of the crew. I figured that he'd bow out at that point, but the crew wasn't ready to *make* him stop.


Stage 4 - Furnace Creek to Shoshone

Although our rider probably didn't notice, Death Valley is beautiful. Beautiful if you like the desert. The start of this stage is long and flat but it winds in and out along the base of the mountains on the East side of Death Valley. Wookiee was visibly not doing well and looked like a ghost. I have video to prove it. This was taken somewhere below sea level (there's a sign on the side of the mountain) and before the base of the ascent up to Jubilee Pass and Salsberry Pass.

We took a good long rest at the base of this climb. Personally, I would have said 'screw this' at that point, but Wookiee carried on, probably just wanting to finish the stage. The sun was rising fast at this point and it started to get hot. Not hot by Death Valley standards, but damn hot if you've been riding your bike for a few hundred miles. Maybe it was 'only' 90 degrees, but we had the A/C on as we ascended in the van.

The race officials paid us a visit on this hill and were usually nearby the rest of the way. I don't know how long it took to get up the hill, but our rider was not progressing very quickly, despite his best efforts. When there was only about 3 miles left on the ascent we went ahead to wait. I climbed up the side of the hill and snapped a few pictures. I felt like I was (physically) on top of the world and the scenery was magnificent, but I felt bad for my rider. He was suffering mightily at this point.

We started down the hill and made a stop or two. On the second one I thought Wookiee was ready to throw in the towel, and the crew was going to let him. He expressed his interest in 'just finishing this stage', and we let him do that, too. But as he was lying in the van looking half dead, we agreed that we would make him stop at Shoshone whether he wanted to or not. The underlying feeling being that it just wasn't worth his health. At that point we didn't know if he had a virus, food poisoning, heat stroke or what, but we all intuitively knew it was time to end it.

Luckily Wookiee decided he had had enough at Shoshone. We were all relieved and not disappointed in the least. As I alluded to earlier, we were there for him, he wasn't there for us. If he got sick before the race even started and quit it would have been fine. No need to risk your health, life, mental stability etc. over it. There's always next year.

After hanging out in Shoshone for a few minutes we gathered our junk and headed out. I quickly walked over to the race officials, shook their hands and thanked them for doing such a great job. Even in the dead of night, creeping through the desert, you always felt like you weren't out there alone. The race seemed very well managed and I wanted to let them know we appreciated it.

We decided to go ahead and drive the next stage down to Baker to get a bite to eat. Also, it's really the only way out of there so we didn't have much choice. We passed some other bikers on the way out that looked like they were about done. We passed Tapir but I didn't think to stop in time, not figuring he was in the van. I just thought I was passing the crew but we didn't see him on the road either. He did eventually finish.

We ate, we drove back to my house, we slept. We watched some hockey on TV. But we didn't talk about the race. I knew Wookiee was disappointed that he didn't finish, but the way I see it he was in a group of about 25 other people that didn't finish. Of those DNF's, five made it further that he did when he stopped. The rest stopped before Shoshone. So he still did well overall, beating out about 20 other DNF's. Not many people can say they rode a bike through Death Valley for over 300 miles and lived to tell about it. I believe he was a victim of circumstance and not of his own ability or will to finish the race. Not once did he complain about leg cramps, his slightly injured Achilles Tendon or any other physical malady aside from his stomach. If the race had been a week earlier or later, the results would have been different.

Plus, now that we know what we know about what it takes to complete the Furnace Creek 508, I think we can make a better run at it in two years. Basically get a lot of sleep, eat a lot of protein the night before, and don't be nervous. No sweat!


Epilogue

So, the race experience was really fun. I'm a bandwagon kind of guy when it comes to bike racing (I basically watch the TdF every year) but it was a hell of a lot of fun seeing a race close up and actually participating in it. I'd do it again in a second, even though it was one of the most sleep-deprived weekends I've ever had. It was worth the experience and quite a unique and satisfying way to take in the high desert of Southern California.

As 'Bike Guy' told us before the race, this is a unique experience for everyone and you will learn about yourself during the race (he was talking to the crew) and he was right. I learned a little bit about my own character, about the character of Wookiee's wife, about the character of my future wife, and especially about the character, drive and tenacity of my friend Wookiee.

I also learned a little bit about the desert, how beautiful it is in the dead of night under a full moon, the hospitality of others, how a temporary, mobile community can spring up for one weekend a year in the unlikeliest of places, and lastly I learned where passion can get you. Every last one of the riders I saw and met were passionate about what they were doing, and I think they were all pretty well in tune with what an incredible thing they were about to do. Finish or DNF, it takes a certain heft in your nut-sack to even attempt to do something this ridiculous and everyone who started the race should feel proud of themselves for being one of the few that saw those 508 miles in front of them and thought 'Heck, I can do that!'

Even the best of the best have DNF's on their record, most of them have more than one. The thing is that they always come back, and I have no doubt that Wookiee will be back and that some day I'll be driving a van around the desert in the dead of night, enjoying every minute of it.

***