Shawn Kingrey
Shawn works as a firefighter, feeds the rat by racing his bicycle, and sculpts his soul by creating art ranging from hit-and-run, full-sized graffiti to mixed-media using recovered/recycled materials to straight oil painting. He was a Gym Jones fully certified instructor during the MFT Era, raced downhill mountain bikes, played hockey, and spent a lot of time climbing and bouldering. He is a self-described punk rock overlord whose musical knowledge covers exceptional depth and breadth of all things hardcore, punk, and even prog rock. We have attended some pretty good live shows together.
Shawn's story about how we met appeared in the REJECTS Zine, a collection of Sermons that did not make this book but were important enough to publish.
Shawn has been on the podcast:
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On the bike Shawn tends to enjoy what others find incomprehensible. Below are some of the more important experiences he has had on a bicycle. To describe them he says, "These aren’t just wins, these are races I cared about, the experience was and is more important than the result."
2008 Porcupine Hill Climb 2nd or 3rd RR, 16th place but I met MFT and he invited me to do the EC and Gym Jones.
2008 Everest Challenge Stage Race Finished 27 of 51 starers, two days, 205miles, 29,032’ elevation gain. I finished my fifth road race ever on my hands and knees but I finished, and told MFT, “walking is still honest”. I swore if I finished I’d never do an ultra race again.
2009 Everest Challenge Stage Race finished 9th overall, 7th on Day one, 10th on day 2 (mechanical took me out of the conversation) went back for some kind of redemption, and learned ultra might be my bag and started to believe in myself.
2010 Tour of Park City 5th place. My last cat 4 race, and a memorable day with MFT.
2010 Logan to Jackson 10th place 207miles, 9800’ EG, sprinted for fifth place but didn’t believe in my sprint. Realized I didn’t need an obscene amount of climbing to be competitive.
2011 Mount Evans 2nd Place. Felt like I had made a significant improvement in my ability.
2012 Tour of Park City 9th place Followed an attack by Mancebo, ate my stem, blew up and made a wrong turn off course. Enlightening to race with the real hitter.
2013 Everest Challenge Stage Race 5th overall but was in the conversation for the win.
2014 DairyLand Dare 3rd place 184 miles, 10 Hrs 6min 14,526’ EG. Sprinted for the win but got it wrong.
2014 Four Horseman 1st place 18hrs 21min Other worldly experience, learned I can go fucking deep and really how to suffer.
2015 HooDoo 500 1st Place, 30hrs 2min. Competing against Robert Choi was an honor, and I was humbled to be able to win against such a great champion (record holder for the Furnace Creek 508)
2015 Tour of Park City 3rd Place and KOM. 157miles 7hrs 35min, 9100’EG. Attacked at the 70mile mark got caught with 20 to go and managed to hold on for 3rd
2016 Tour du Mont Blanc 204 miles, 14hrs 17min, 26,000’ climbing.10th place in elite. First real race in Europe
2016 Tour of Park City 1st place. 156miles 7hrs13min, 9100’ EG. This win meant a lot to me but only a few know why.
2016 Rocky Mountain Cyclocross Championship 1st. Just a nice change of pace from Ultra Endurance
2017 Mount Evans 2nd
2017 Guanella Pass 3rd these two races are special because I was fighting against two of my best friends in the Colorado Peloton.
2017 I didn’t do any Ultra races because I was helping take care of my dying father.
2018 Boulder Stage Race 2nd this is memorable because I just had fun racing, no tactics, just love of sport.
2018 Nightmare Tour 1st place “death by” variant 225 miles 22,000’ elevation gain 14hrs 39 min. I was so humbled to share this experience with Mark.
2019 was my learning to crit race year, I quit telling myself I was only good at Climbing races or Ultra Endurance.
2020 Pikes Peak Hill Climb, 2nd Place. Only one RR this year because of a global pandemic. I was reminded how much I love bike racing. It may be a materialist pursuit but I cherish it.
During the Nightmare Tour 2018
At the old Gym Jones space 2015
In the Ochre Mountains, Utah
FOUR HORSEMEN RACE REPORT by Shawn
In June 2014 Shawn Kingrey pushed the boat out. He had petitioned to enter the Four Horsemen of the Solstice bike race and been accepted. The race is described as, “lasting 24 hours, covering +/- 250 miles and +/- 30,000 feet in elevation gain.” In short, EPIC. While driving west to California for the race Shawn broke the fork on his bike. His race could have ended there, before it even started.
I have a spare bike we might have made fit or we could have pulled the fork from it to repair his bike. Instead I called my local shop, explained the situation and asked them to fix the bike. We decided that, “Gym Jones would cover the cost,” because such generosity is perfectly in line with why I started the gym in the first place.
Shawn imagined, and then invested much in the race, just as he has done with his own development. Helping him to fulfill his objective was automatic. We wanted him to see it through. And to demonstrate our belief in a man who expresses the ideals we hold dear by helping him.
The shop fixed his bike. Shawn drove out to Bishop. The previously-undisclosed details of the event (distance, elevation gain and time limits) were explained. He ate, grabbed some sleep and was ready to roll at 4 a.m. Shortly after finishing he sent me a text that read, “I attacked about 70 miles in and then rode a 200-mile individual time trial to the finish,” which he reached first.
After his initial recovery Shawn sent me a full report. It offered as close a look at what he went through as an observer could ever have. I understood because I’ve been on the boat: 24 hours deep, 40 hours deep, 60 hours deep. It was a privilege to read so I have included part of it here.
To hear more details discussed several years after the fact listen to Episode 9 of the podcast.
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Our small field took off at 4 a.m. The climbing started at 6-7 miles. Jamie and I immediately put a gap between ourselves and our compatriots. The sun was rising over the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest and the wind picked up as we hit the first dirt section at 10,000’. The altitude and surface made it brutal and Jamie fell off the pace. Sharp diamond-shaped rocks - some the size of grapefruit - littered the washboarded road. The climbing was steep and the dirt so loose that standing to pedal was not an option.
At the top the cue sheet showed a u-turn to descend that same dirt. I didn’t descend much faster than I had climbed because I worried about destroying my wheelset. I was relieved when the dirt ended. During the descent, Jamie caught back on and passed me. Back at the hotel Section One was complete: 58 miles, with 7000’ of climbing.
I changed shoes and shorts and then Jamie and I set off on Section Two. We worked together across the flats as the wind and heat increased. The temperature was stifling on the climb to South Lake. Sweat ran off my face like I was on a turbo trainer. I saw that Jamie was suffering too, maybe more than me. Two miles from South Lake Lodge I put in a bit of a dig. I don’t know why. I just put my foot on the gas. The gap opened. One voice inside suggested I ease up and wait for him. The other voice reminded me of something I once heard, “If you have the knife in you might as well twist it.” So I grabbed a gear and went for it.
At the top of the South Lake climb I had a 5-minute margin. I descended fast, trying to protect my lead. Then I started my iPod and pushed hard on the climb to Sabrina Lake. At Sabrina Lake I was 100+ miles into the race with a 10-minute gap on Jamie. I have to admit I took more than a few chances on the 20-mile descent.
I pushed hard into a cross-headwind toward the next climb. I started to really believe in myself. When I reached the fire station on the Lower Rock Creek Road climb the race director told me I had a gap of just over 30 minutes. Near the top of the climb I was bonking, and emotional. When "I Love You Even More" by Pretty Boy Thorson & The Fallen Angels came through the headphones I nearly cried.
Pedaling alone into a headwind for fifteen miles gave me plenty of time and space to think about about all of the people who have helped me. Mark, Rob, Lisa and my wife stayed at the forefront of my mind. Rob’s text of “crush some shit”, and Mark’s words, “to repay me, go win it!” kept repeating in my brain.
As I turned and gained a tail-crosswind I raised the pace. Heart rate didn’t seem useful as a guide any longer. The race director pulled alongside and said that he would be my sole support car now. The gap was big enough that the other vehicles couldn’t leapfrog the course anymore. I ticked off two more moderate climbs at 141 and 176 miles respectively. I felt good but I had no pop in the legs. Fear of being chased down and insecurity fueled my head. I kept eating and drinking, knowing this race would be done with my stomach.
At 14:36:00, with 205 miles and 20,532’ of climbing recorded the battery in my Garmin died. The sun was slowly setting over the Sierra. I was still super-motivated even though my body was starting to hurt everywhere: hotspots on my feet, bruises on the the palms of my hands, and every joint in my body ached.
Nearing Big Pine the race director asked what my longest ride had been.
“LOTOJA, 210 miles.”
He smiled, “Not anymore you’re at 240 miles!”
I was fried. At the start of the final section doubt filled me. I was a complete emotional wreck, unsure I could complete the race. Still, I set out into the darkness alone with only the “Voices” (by Matt Skiba and the Sekrets) in my head.
I cracked on the Death Valley Road. I couldn’t distinguish between the grey road and the grey gravel next to the road. I rode off the pavement a couple of times. When jack rabbit jumped into the middle of the road focus returned. I flashed back to the Tour de Park City last year where I saw a rabbit take out half a peloton, sending several guys to the hospital with open fractures. I felt doomed. But I pedaled. Then the race director pulled up and I was relieved not to be alone in the desert any longer.
“How are you doing?”
“I’m cracking …”
“As director I have the right to change the course at any time. I’ve decided to make it a summit finish, to neutralize the final descent. Safer, that way. For everyone.”
I still doubted I could make it. I ate a gel. My stomach was going flips. I put my head down and pedaled. Another suicidal rabbit dashed across the road. Then a snake. I felt like I couldn’t generate any power when seated. But my feet screamed when I stood. I just kept telling myself, “This is what I signed up for.”
When I crossed the line I could barely unclip from the pedals. I thought I was going to fall over. The race director told me to get into van. I was done.
267 miles, over 24,000’ of climbing, 18 hours, 21 minutes.
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A while after he sent the race report, Shawn and I traded some email. I asked if he had found what he was looking for. Then, “Have you recovered physically? Psychologically, will you ever really recover? And do you want to?”
“Physically I am well, I feel like I recovered and got a bit of a bounce.
Psychologically I don't think there is a recovery. I think the layers that were peeled back leave me more open to experiences. I think that is the reason I do some of things I do. I want to feel and experience it all, to be open and present in every moment. No hiding, but digging in and embracing the pain, the sorrow, joy and love of life. I want it all! I want to live like a give a fuck!”
A few brave sentences that provide one look beyond the gateway that is Sport.
For a different perspective check out Ryan Tetz’s race report here.
