24 hours of GREAT GOOGALY MOOGALY

okay, so, this actually happened back in early august, but i've finally put this together enough to relate my experience to the Web.

basically, each year, up in the heart of pinkham notch in the beautiful white mountains, an event takes place at great glen trails. now, you see, great glen trails is an extensive network of singletrack, carriage roads and pathways located at the foot of mt. washington. it's also home to the mt. washington auto road, but since i hate that fucking road for what it stands for, i'm not going to say too much. it's not that the road is THAT bad in theory, it's that every asshole with a car and twenty bucks can drive their SUV up to the highest point in new england. it's just not right.

ANYWAY... each year, up at great glen, they hold a 24-hour bike race that draws people in droves. you can ride in teams of two, four, five or, if you're clinically insane, go it solo. the point of the event is to turn your body into mush over the course of 24 hours while you question reality and swear to yourself that you'll never leave the house again.

no, scratch that.

actually, it's to see how many laps around the 8 1/2 mile course you can make from noon saturday to noon sunday. you and your teammates are issued a time chip that goes around your ankle, and you ride the course with the chip, get to the finish line, hand the chip off like a baton to your teammate, and head back to your tent city to relax and regroup before your next lap. basically, we had it so there was about 2 hours of lag time before you had to start thinking about your next lap.

so, i did it, and here's my account (based mostly on the journal i kept during the event and my own hazy recollection of what happened...

the 24 hours of great glen... abriged.

first off, here's the success story:

me and my three teammates completed 24 laps on the 8-mile, carriage road and singletrack course from noon saturday until noon sunday, and until basically none of us could walk afterwards. at least josh (one of the members of the other Resort Sports Network team) was wise enough to have a massage scheduled for sunday night. lucky bastard.

oh, and by the way, the solo division winner? 25 laps. BY HIMSELF. he beat our entire team, and we finished in the top tier!!!!

as i sit here, listening to "blame it on the tetons" by Modest Mouse, it's actually fun to reflect on it. so here's the deal:

• 12:00 noon: cannon goes off at noon saturday. i'm leading off for my team. the race begins with the traditional "le mans" start: running the 1/2 mile around the great glen pond, to the start area, where dr. dewey had my bike waiting for me. burned myself on the run. i begin pedaling, and immediately wonder why i'm doing this.

• 12:54: finish my first lap, feeling pretty good. i'm done, right?

• 4:00: nope, gotta go again. damn! did i mention people friggin' PAY to do this?

• 5:30: back, changed, wrote in my journal, fell asleep in my chair with among 20 people having loud conversations. 25 minutes later, someone tapped me on the shoulder. time to get ready to ride the course again.

• 6:15: i'm on the bike. again. my ass is killing me, i'm climbing the switchbacks again, and i just got passed like i was going BACKWARDS by some 17-year-old kid who weighs 100 pounds. if i catch him, i'm making sure he dies painfully.

• 7:20: i get to the finish corral and jump off the bike—both legs cramp to locking, excruciating pain, and i fall over. i pushed the bike on my knees to the finish and tagged my teammate. why am i doing this again? p.s. it's getting dark, and getting cold. and i've heard that some people are actually enjoying this.

my buddy abe cramped so bad about a quarter of a mile into his third lap that he had to sit on a hillside for 15 minutes before he could move his legs again...

• 11:00: i hate myself and want to die. i'm also seeing things. this is fun! tears flow freely.

actually, the night ride is a lot of fun—all you're focused on is as far as your headlight and headlamp will throw a beam of light, so your world becomes that bubble. everything else fades completely out. i actually start whistling on the course. this isn't so bad!

• 11:35: just hit the climb on Dugway. i'm not whistling, smiling or having fun anymore. hell, i'm not even RIDING! off the bike, and pushing... and without shame, because i'm not the only ghost out here off the pedals.

• 12:10: done until 4AM—dewey and steve are going to ride doubles. sweet! i'm gonnZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ......

• 4:00AM: you're kidding, right?

• 4:20AM: ha! dude... if you have to ask...

• 4:30AM: tim still hasn't come back off course—oh, there he is—no choice now, gotta get back on the bike. by the way, the next day, i found out i had two conversations that i don't remember taking place. eerie.

AND IT'S NOW RAINING.

• 5:10AM (approx): tim got to the timing tent about a half hour ago, and i took off, and here i am, entering the tough singletrack, watch that—OUCH. that really freaking hurt. see, when it's this late and you're delirious, it's awful hard to wheelie over a log. especially when you hit it broadside and go ass over teakettle... but nothing seems broken. my body's OK, too, i think.

• 5:50AM: honey, i'm home! i reach the timing tent, but where's my teammate waiting for me. dewey, where are you? do i even have teammates left? where am i? auntie em???

• 6:00AM: oh, there's dewey, asleep. in his tent. he's roused and gone.

• 6:50AM: ZZZZZZZZ.... oh, sh*t, i bled all over my sleeping bag. guess i wasn't so unscathed after all. my elbow's flowing like a faucet!

• 7:00AM: TEAM DECISION: dewey's going out for one more ride. tim's going to take one. steve's done. nick, can you finish us out at around 11? "oh hell yeah!"

• 10:59AM: "i change my mind!"

• 11:01AM: damn! back on the course. lap six. i'm beyond hate now.

the whole ride (which is more like gliding and then walking up anything remotely resembling a climb) is a folly. i puke. i cheer on other people puking. i banter with people i've passed and those who've passed me over the course of the day. i'm miserable, but so are they, and we keep going... because we know this is it. cross the line and we're done. cross the line and it's over. cross the line... just cross the line!!!!

12:19PM: LINE CROSSED!!!!

final tally: personal: six laps, 48 miles, over 6 1/2 hours on course
team total: 24 laps, 192 miles, 24 hours and 19 minutes on course
it's over. i'm too tired and sickly feeling to even drink a beer... but i pack my stuff up and get out of great glen, thankful for the experience, which i hated like the plague. but, of course, you'll see us there next year!!!

check out www.24hoursofgreatglen.com for all the details...