I'm not sure if anyone here in the Colletivo would remember Sarah Guthrie, she was a member in 2021. Sarah was my girlfriend and she passed away from an undiagnosed brain aneurysm in April of 2021. First let me say thank you to Castelli and those that were running the Colletivo at the time for sending flowers to her funeral, what an epically classy move and I will never forget it. In the wake of Sarahs death i found myself without a direction, and I decided that I needed a goal and a physical challenge to channel all the grief i was attempting to manage. I decided on The Crusher 225EX because its one of the hardest gravel races/rides in the country and because Sarah loved the upper peninsula of Michigan, where the race takes place. The following is a recap of that experience. I am grateful to be able to carry to torch for her with the Colletivo.
Time to ride, the day of. Rolling out of Al Quaal in Ishpeming at 0600 with a little group of 2, myself and Laura, onto the single track of the RAMBA mountain bike trails we quickly found how easy it would be to become lost, even with GPS guidance. We ran into another group of 3 riders, Jon and Ian Kangas, as well as Lila Planavsky, we trekked through RAMBA with just a quick back track after a wrong turn and then out onto the Iron Ore Heritage Trail where we separated from the group of three, at least for the time being. From there we rolled through Marquette and past the Forestville trailhead on our way to Chunky Summit, our first checkpoint, a quick photo and Sarah’s sticker on the sign and we were rolling.
Things were pretty low key at this point, nothing crazy as far as terrain but then Red Road rears up. Red Road is 10 miles of sand that’s like confectioner’s sugar, it’s very difficult to ride through and you have to just maintain momentum, or you will have to stop and put a foot down and getting started again could be impossible. After that joy we had a bit more “normal” dirt roads and then we come to our first water crossing where the Kagas’ group caught us and rode on. We would end up finding them at pretty much every turn we took a quick stop for water and to restock food from our support crew. After that we entered our second checkpoint “Mosquito Gulch” which is a nature conservancy, snap another picture with the sign at the entrance, with another Sarah sticker of course and off we go. The road through it is essentially an old glacier melt run off with huge boulders, its essentially unrideable most of the time for anyone who isn’t very technically proficient on a mountain bike, for me the risk of falling onto a rock wasn’t worth the ego reward, so I walked a good portion of it. We did luck out as the gulch was pretty dry and the bugs were not terrible, I had also treated all my clothing with permethrin to keep them away, highly recommended.
From the gulch it was a short ride to the third check point, another water crossing, the Yellowdog River. Here we met with our support vehicle for the first time, this was after about 8 hours of riding, 56 miles or so. We reloaded on water and food and headed out for our next checkpoint, Dodge City, a little sign, and some bras strapped to a tree in the middle of nowhere at mile 74ish. Again, Sarah’s sticker went up on the sign, next to Brett’s, another member of this crazy cycling community that lost his life in the weeks before my ride. She also got a patch pinned to a bra lol.
Getting the hell out of dodge meant we were rolling towards our next check point and another water crossing, the mouth of the Huron River, where it dumps out into Lake Superior, this came at about mile 83. This was an emotional one for me, I had decided a few days ahead of time that I was going to leave some of Sarah’s ashes at the mouth of the Huron, I wanted to let the river carry her out into the lake. She loved water, The Great Lakes especially, growing up on Lake Huron in the summers of her youth at her family’s cottage in Detour. She could identify half the Great Lakes freighters by their silhouettes, her and her grandfather would sit and watch them go by. I had Laura video me as I wanted Sarah’s family to be able to see it if they so chose. As I knelt in the wet sand that was being washed from beneath me, I poured her ashes in my hands and then submerged them into the current of the Huron. The wind was up, and blowing from the north, so the Huron was flowing backwards, carrying Sarah inland a bit, once the wind dies down it will carry her back to the lakes that she loves. As I put her urn away and Laura gave me my phone back, I just stood looking out at the small islands off the shore, crying, and thinking to myself how much she would have loved that spot, thinking of why I was there, why I was doing this whole ride, this adventure. It was the eve of our 6th anniversary, and there’s nowhere else that I should have been, I was taking Sarah on another adventure, and we weren’t even halfway done over 12 hours in.
Another restock of food, a change of clothes and we were again rolling, the next 16 or so miles is generally uphill and our support crew met us where the climbing essentially stops so we could get ready for the 30+ mile trek from there to L’Anse, it was getting dark, it was time for more clothing and to put the lights on the bikes and helmets. On the way into L’Anse I came across the Kangas’ group again as they were getting ready to repair a flat and decided to hang with them and ride into town together. We rolled in around 1130 and we were at mile 132, over halfway. It was at this point I found out that Laura had decided to stop riding, the Jon’s wife Stacey let me throw my bag and food in with their things and they supported me for the rest of the nigh and the event, life savers, thank you guys so much.
From L’Anse it’s off to the next checkpoint, Mt. Arvon, the highest natural point in the state of Michigan, at almost 2000 feet above sea level, at the top there is a mailbox, our next selfie stop. This was the first time that I was going to leave a Sarah sticker on something while riding with the Kangas Krew. I felt that what I was doing wouldn’t make sense unless I explained to them why. So, at whatever o’clock in the morning it was, at the top of Mt. Arvon, I explained Sarah’s death and my reasons for being here at Crusher to some strangers who had let me ride with them. I am sure it was not what they were expecting to hear, but, they understood, they empathized, Lila asked for some stickers of her own, and we rolled on to our goal.
Arvon is about mile 156, and our final check point, Wildcat Creek is at about mile 192, a long trek through the night, I was thankful to have some company to chat with and Ian Kangas, who is 15 by the way, had his Bluetooth speaker and was cranking some tunes for us, perfection. As we rolled through the night we covered miles of gravel roads, crazy unrideable roads at times, but we made steady progress, on bike and on foot sometimes. We fought off sleepiness with caffeine supplements and chat, or sometimes just silence, staring ahead into the darkness, just knowing what had to be done. The night was colder than I thought, down into the 40s and I was happy that I had put on a jacket at the previous meet up with Stacy at Arvon. As we rolled into a new sunrise it dawned on me that it was now August 22nd, our anniversary, the first of every August 22nd without you. By now things just hurt, after 25 hours of riding bumpy roads and single track the sit bones had had enough, every bump starts to grind at you. Your neck and back hurt from holding your head up for hour after hour. At this point the legs felt surprisingly OK, it was the body that was really hurting, from the time and the terrain, and the bumps. You grit your teeth and tell the pain to get lost, well, not with words that PC, but…you tell it I’m in charge here, not you.
We made it to the Wildcat Creek checkpoint and I left a sticker and snapped my photo. Jon looked at all of us and said well, it’s all just follow the line on the GPS now, everyone ride at whatever pace you think you can and well see everyone at the finish line, which was still nearly 50 miles away. Our group was pretty even on pace, I ended up being a little better on the uphills and that slowly created a gap over the next 50 miles. That meant time to think.
Once you’re alone it’s just you and your thoughts, to be honest I had been in my own head a lot through the night, even with the group. There were more than a few occasions throughout the night I was fighting back tears because of those thoughts. Rehashing the last 4 months. Thinking about how all this is bullshit, that it’s unfair, and that Sarah should be here, that I shouldn’t even have to be doing this ride to cope with her death and make it through this anniversary weekend, that we should have been on some adventure together, celebrating 6 hard fought years, especially the last 18 months. We worked so damn hard to be better for each other through that rough time, and to have it stolen from us by some twist of fate. It’s. Not. Fucking. Fair. It never will be, that’s the rub, nothing makes it OK, or better. You just come to terms with all that you have left is to pick up the pieces of what remains of the life and the dreams that you had together and figure out what you can reshape it into that resembles a new life for yourself. There was a lot of that through Crusher, especially at night and when riding alone. The miles are ticking down now, you know that nothing aside from a trip to the hospital in an ambulance is going to stop you from finishing, you call Todd names at every stretch of unridable sandy road or every time you turn a corner to find another hill waiting, but in reality, you are just coping with the pain by complaining to yourself. My first day back at the fire station after Crusher on of the guys I work with asked if I had ever thought of quitting. The answer was a resounding, no, not completing this task was never an option for me, whether it’s because of the gravity of why I was putting myself through this, or the fact that I had never quit anything in my life I’m not sure, it’s probably a myriad of factors, but the thought of quitting was never there. As much as things hurt, the negativity of self-doubt in my ability to complete the task was kept at bay.
So, I had ridden to the last meet up with Stacy as I exited a sandy trail into Ishpeming, I dumped off all my extra stuff, lights, big water bottles, saddle bag, keeping only some fluids in my pack and a bit of food, and tools for repairs and set off for the last challenge. Last Bluff, a gnarly single track in the RAMBA trails, now, I probably wouldn’t try to ride this, tight, twisty, steep, rocky, rooty, single track when I am fresh, let alone after 32 hours of being awake and riding a bike. This trail is not a joke, and I am not too proud to admit that I am a road cyclist who happens to like falling down on a mountain bike occasionally. To be honest, by this time my ass was killing me, 240 miles of gnarly roads and trails had taken its toll on my sit bones, they were bruised, literally purple as I would later find out. So, walking the last couple miles through Last Bluff was a bit of a relief. Exiting Last bluff and riding up into the roundabout in Ishpeming I crossed the main road and climbed up a final incline into Al Quaal.
Tired, sore, emotional, I was taxed, but I was done. Stacey was there in the parking lot as was my vehicle, she told me that the rest of the group was 30-45 minutes behind me, so I cracked a beer and waited for them. I am not sure I would have made it through the night alone without them and I definitely would not have been able to finish if they had not agreed to help me by taking my stuff along, I am so grateful for their help and companionship.
What are my take aways from The Crusher? It’s fucking hard, it goes without saying you better come in with some level of physical fitness. But more importantly you need to come prepared with the right mindset. A positive one of I can get through this, even if you are using negative experiences as the fuel, I knew that nothing could suck as bad as losing the love of my life, Sarah. I hope that you never need that type of fuel, the kind of pain and anguish that comes with a loss like mine. Know that you are stringer than you think you are and that you can do hard things, Sarah always told me I could do hard things when I was stressed or doubting myself. We all can. From the perspective of the crusher other advice I can give is you must eat and drink, I can tell you there will come a point where whatever you brough as food will sound disgusting and drinking more sports drink will sound like the worst plan you can think of. Do it anyway, you cannot fall behind on calorie intake and hydration. I burned 13,000 calories and that doesn’t take into account those I burned while not pedaling, you simply cannot replace them at the pace you are losing them, you must eat. Be prepared to be uncomfortable for long periods of time, at least half the race, and the final 8-10 hours were agonizing for my sit bones, just wanted to be done, but the only way out, is through. Good luck fellow crushers, you can do this. Thanks Todd for a wicked vision quest.
On to other topics briefly, We have raised about $4000 for charity in Sarah’s name, thank you to those who have donated and the ability to donate still exists for those that would like to. I will reach out to the charities listed on Sarah’s memorial page in the coming weeks to assess their needs so we can help them out. It will definitely make its way on to my socials when it happens. Thanks to everyone who has helped along this path that I never asked to take, whether it has been support for Crusher, someone to talk to when I have a bad day, or people just checking in. Seth for all the bike and product support. I appreciate all of you. 
#ride365
