There’s a lot to unpack from Iceman Cometh 2025, some good, some not-so-good, and all of it worth reflecting on. So, let’s dive in.
First, I want to give a heartfelt thank you to every single person who makes this event happen. I’ve raced and spectated at many events over the past five years, and Iceman remains the most organized, thoughtful, and well-run of them all. It’s incredible to see how the race has evolved over the last decade, with small improvements each year that make a huge difference. It’s truly an event built for both riders and spectators, and it shows.
When I got my wave assignment this year, I wasn’t thrilled, but it did match the tone of my 2025 season: complicated, unpredictable, full of personal highs and lows, and not much in the way of performance. To be honest, this season was HARD. But it taught me a lot about resilience, about how tough people really are, and about how generous and supportive my circle is. I’m grateful for every single person who helped me keep going this year.
We arrived at Timber Ridge on Wednesday, and with the cold weather settling in, we didn’t do as much riding as planned. My husband and I did ride the final four miles, though, because let’s be honest, that’s what everyone wants to know. And I was so impressed. Real, tight, slightly techy singletrack right at the finish? I loved it. It challenged all of us and definitely opened some eyes to things that need to be worked on by a lot of participants I am sure.
Friday night, that familiar pre-race anxiety crept in. The “What if I freeze?” “What if I bonk?” “Did I bring the right clothes?” questions looped endlessly. I know I wasn’t the only one lying there mentally spiraling, please tell me I wasn’t.
Race day began with sending off two of my favorite riders, Kayla and Elliot Mercer, in their first-ever Slush Cup. I was so excited to see them out there. The turnout for the Slush Cup this year was incredible, and if anyone is thinking about dipping their toes into mountain bike racing, it’s such a great place to start. Do it.
The drive to Kalkaska is always quiet for me. This year, though, I felt a sense of calm and confidence. My gear test (a solid 30 minutes standing outside like a very confused snow statue waiting for Slush Cup to start) told me I’d be warm enough, so at least one thing was working in my favor. My husband wore shorts, because he’s psychotic. Our group all started within 30 minutes of each other, and my dad handled drop-off like the pro he is, making sure we were
ready, tires pumped, and nerves somewhat contained.
Wave 31 rolled into the chute, nerves and excitement buzzing, and then we were off. Once we hit the singletrack, I felt completely in my element. Sow’s Ear, which I’d heard about for weeks, was a highlight, fun, flowing, and everything I love about riding.
Then came mile 10. The mile 10. The Great Backup of 2025. We were stopped for about 30 minutes, and while I don’t know exactly what caused it, the atmosphere was surprisingly positive. People laughed, talked, made new friends, it was one of those moments that reminds you why the mountain bike community is so special. The only downside was how fast the cold set in. My warm sweat chilled, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t shake the cold for the rest of the race.
The next 20 miles were tough. My seatpost, an upgrade from just days before, kept slowly sinking, leaving me more and more cramped. I fixed it a couple times, but it kept slipping slowly. Just one of those “part of racing” things that you mentally file away for later. I definitely informed my mechanic immediately after the race. Thanks, Velo Van, for not running in the opposite direction when I said, “So, something happened.”
Somewhere in that stretch came Make It Stick. I’d been unable to climb it in 2024, and I decided to give it everything this year. And I made it. That moment alone was worth a lot. The next 450 climbs? Hit or miss. And that’s okay.
The finish was everything I hoped it would be. I’d pre-ridden it, studied the lines, and knew it would be well-worn and challenging by the time I arrived. Ice Breaker was electric, as always, the fans truly carry you up that hill. A tight downhill corner caused trouble for some riders (and produced some incredible photos (thanks Nick Garrison), and Woodchip Hill delivered its usual dose of humbling. I made it halfway before walking, and honestly, no shame in that.
Then the pumptrack, such a great addition. Rolling out of it and hearing a group of people chanting my name was one of the best feelings of the entire day. I didn’t need to sprint to the finish, but it felt right in the moment.
I crossed the line and saw my time: 3:51. WHAT. My initial reaction was disappointment. I felt strong, and for a year that had been so difficult, I wanted the result to show the effort. I had signed up for Lady Athena and missed 5th place by just a few seconds, but noticed that my good friend Jamie got her first Iceman podium, and I was so happy for her. I started getting messages later that evening. There had been a timing correction. I actually did get 5th. I podiumed at Iceman. And that moment meant everything.
Overall, this is my favorite race of the year, every year. I look forward to it, think about it constantly, and feel both relieved and excited when it’s over. I’m deeply grateful to the Iceman Trailblazers program for inviting me to be a part of something bigger this year.
If there’s anything I hope people take away from this season and my posts, it’s this: even when things are hard, keep pushing. You are capable of so much more than you think. And yes, your butt belongs on that bike.
If you’re reading this and wondering whether you should sign up for 2026…you absolutely should.
See you out there.
Thank you to Haleigh Curtis @curtis_haleigh_mtb for being our 2025 Iceman Cometh Trailblazer.