April 25, 2026: War Daddy is the hardest thing you can do on this side of the country, a race report from Rae Havoc
It’s been at least 3 years since the last time I bebopped my happy ass down to Kenfucky to hang with our southern Appalachain dopplegangers. The Trail Sick team is pretty much the McLain Farm crew with a slightly heavier accent. Their race never disappoints.
War Daddy is a metric century, Sandlin’s Shred is half of that. Is it a metric quarter? I dunno, they measure time by beers down there and measure distance by how many turns you have to take to get somewhere. I did the long version last time, but I really wanted to do the half… so this year I took the opportunity. April is early early early for mountain bikes up here in the Mahoning valley. I’ve been busting my ass riding an old steel fully rigid single speed everywhere around town and hitting the indoor park as much as possible, but we all know there’s no substitute for actual outdoor singletrack. Basically, I figured Sandlin’s was more than enough of a challenge for me. I set my goal at “finish. In less than 5 hours if possible,” said goodbye to Jeff & Fitzo and hit the road!
Start and finish are at the Leslie County RV Park, so I camped up there in the possum van. There are about 30 rv spots with all the fixins and ample fields and hollers for tent camping. It’s so primitive, I had to make my own fire ring with big rocks from the river. JUST HOW I LIKE IT!
I got off the line in the middle, also just where I like it. I know I can’t compete in the lead scrum (unless someone falls off or crashes and i catch up haha) but I’m also usually faster than most of the B group. Anyways, if you’re faster than me, it’s the responsibility of the more skilled rider to pass. It takes 3 miles of a gradual, paved climb to reach the entrance to the wilderness area. We dropped in and I said, probably out loud, “here we go!”
It’s hard to describe the Daniel Boone National Forest much less the Red Bird Wilderness Area. Again, this is the doppleganger for the McLain race, so they’re roughly the southern more equivalent of Wayne National and Brush Creek respectively. If I’m being honest, they’re dirtier and harder than ours in most places. There is a few decent sections of fast single and 2 track toward the end when you really need it, so there’s that.
I made it to mile 17 in blazing time… averaging over 8 mph. Of course, I had a Busch at the side of the road aid station there… and a rip. Just as I was putting my mobile marijuana device away, who comes slamming down the hill I just rode down using EVERY SINGLE BIT of my braking system? Tinker Juarez. So probably this event is about to blow up since the world’s most famous mountain biker has been to it!
3 miles from the aid station and approximately 10 miles from my finish, my shoe broke. This was a novel mechanical failure, similar to others I have had yet with its own special infuriating qualities. When I stood up for a steep, rocky downhill, my foot slipped my pedal. I’m a two bolt user, but I did break a crank once, so this was heart stopping. I looked down and saw most of the bottom half of my sandal flopping around the crank arm. I navigated myself to a mud hill to sit on, somewhat off the main line down the hill to assess my situation. You do enough of this shit solo and unsupported, you start to figure out what to carry. Once I broke the cleat in my shoe, so I carry a space cleat. Once I broke my chain so now i carry a few spare links. I typically have duct tape wrapped around my hand pump or spare gps battery because once I fixed a leaky fork with duct tape and managed to finish. So I didn’t cuss too much when i sat down int he mud to assess my shoe- I had a few feet of tape in my bag. Unfortunately it wasn’t enough to do a wrap in the middle as well as at the heel (the 2 places my sandal needed support to work with my pedal.) Guys started rolling past me, “you okay, need anything?”
Yeah, you got duct tape?
“No, sorry.”
At least 4 of them while I was making the decision to tape my shoe just in the middle and soldier on.
Unfortunately for me, the very worst climb was ahead of me and my floppy, crappy shoe repair. I don’t know what kind of mountain bike wizards are able to ride up this. thing, but not me. Or the 3 guys ahead of me, basically bouldering up it with their bikes on their shoulders. With no help or support from my left sandal, I also began the climb. It’s in my video. It doesn’t even look like a climb because all you can see in front of my bike is a rock wall. Fuck it, tho. I’m there for the adventure! I shouted to the closest one ahead of me, ARE YOU HAVING FUN? I AM HAVING THE TIME OF MY LIFE. He looked back, laughing, and replied, “I’m ready for the fun to be over.”
Near mile 30, I finally found road and began the descent back to camp and finished though. Moving time was 5:53:23, elapsed time was 6:07:41. I wasted fourteen minutes slamming a beer and fixing my shoe, apparently. We got cool finisher medals but I was mostly happy to see my support who said, “they told me you broke your shoe, rockstar.” I nodded and said, “yeah, I did okay. It was at mile 20 anyways what else was I gonna do?” I was given a fresh roll of duct tape, several hours too late.
Alone in the woods doing the hardest thing ever is my happy place. I carried some rocks up to the top elevation with me and threw them over the edge while I was ridge riding the top. This is how I honour the dead, carrying their memories for the year with me and leaving those at the top of the mountain. I found a freaking RAD turkey feather while I was dismounting to walk a climb that had defeated me. I saw my friends, shared doobies and I promise I spread the stoke.
Can’t wait for the next hardest thing.