What in the what is Leadville?
For the uninitiated, The Leadville 100 is a 105-mile(!) mountain bike race with 12,000 ft of climbing. But the real kicker is that the start line is 10,152 feet above sea level, and the course climbs up to 12,500 feet. People spend their whole year or even years trying to get a start, fighting for lottery or qualifying races for the chance to line up. This year, our very own Libby Caldwell has a start, and she’s riding for more than just herself…
“I guess it’s finally happening - I am racing Leadville!
To say it’s been a journey to get to this point would be a bit of an understatement. Between contracting COVID two years ago before my first attempt, and a head injury last year, I really did not think this race (or any bike racing) would be in the cards for me.
I remember racing XC in high school and hearing the League Director, Vanessa’s husband, Yuri Hauswald, had just raced a 100-mile mountain bike race in Colorado. At the time, when a 12-mile bike race was my hardest and longest achievement, I couldn’t comprehend such a race. But 10 years after learning of the crazy 100-mile mountain bike race in Colorado, I heard its name again when a new friend, Moriah (Mo) Wilson, planned to race it in 2021.
When I signed up three years ago for the lottery - it was on a whim. But when I got the confirmation email, the first person I told was Mo. The biggest smile spread across her face - my trepidation was met with such positive excitement. She had ridden her first Leadville and shocked the mountain bike community by coming in 2nd place. A classic Mo move. She shared anecdotes of her mistakes, her learnings, what she could’ve done better. Her enthusiasm for racing was infectious. Her enthusiasm for this race, in particular, left a mark on me.
When we rode together, she kept reminding me with a grin - “Oh, this steep, loose fire road is just like Columbine - you got this”! While I was suffering on a big group ride to the lighthouse, she rode beside me as I dangled at the back with a smile, remarking, “If you can do this, you can definitely do Leadville!” I didn’t believe I could do it - but somehow she did.
What originally started as a personal race goal grew into something far more meaningful after Mo was killed in May of 2022.
She died before she could share her Google doc of beta, before she could soak in the life of being a professional athlete, before she really had the opportunity to hit her stride. When she won Sea Otter in such dominant fashion, it felt all but certain she would win Unbound, she would win Leadville, she would win everything.
For me, this race is intertwined with my memory of her.
Two years ago, while still battling the sharp grief of her sudden death, I made it my goal to ride Leadville for her. I had no intention of winning - honestly, I don’t think that even mattered to her - but I wanted her to see me cross that finish line powered by her enthusiasm.
In 2022, having just visited her hometown in VT, I had my first run-in with COVID 10 days before Leadville. I had to pack away my dream of racing there for another year. When I signed with Ornot in 2023, my main goal had been to make it to Leadville, to tick that box. In March, while on a training ride, I slid out on a wet corner, hitting my head on the pavement at 25 mph. Trying to recover from the concussion, riding my bike wasn’t fun anymore. In my head, I had fully retired from competitive racing, choosing instead to focus on building the women’s community in SF and putting my energy into building the sport of cycling. But that pesky idea remained - what about Leadville?
Time can heal wounds; emotional and physical. When I began the year, I told only a handful of people I wanted to make it back to Leadville. It has been a slow process of rebuilding my confidence on the bike, but, with a little help from my friends, a dose of stubbornness, and a desire to see this through, I get to line up on Saturday with a special kit for a special race.
500 plus days after we designed this custom jersey, it will hit the Leadville start line. The jersey, a loud purple and teal, is far more my aesthetic than Mo’s, but if you look closely at the teal print on the shoulders and arms of the jersey, you will find Moriah’s dragonfly, a symbol that has become synonymous with her spirit and memory.
I never used to notice dragonflies, but in the last two years, I feel like they follow me wherever I go, especially when I am on my bike. As I've been training in Leadville on the infamous Columbine and Powerline climbs, these little aerial critters have joined me. When I line up this Saturday, I will be lining up for Mo. Her sense of adventure and her passion has inspired and pushed me to this very point. Now all that’s left is to put that energy into the pedals for this crazy 105-mile bike ride.
Like Mo, the foundation that bears her name aims to continue her mission to inspire others to ride bikes and be active, whatever that may look like. To learn more about Mo and the legacy she left behind, check out the Moriah Wilson Foundation.
