tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31169713630820102802024-03-13T06:06:38.250-04:00Carey's Cycling ChroniclesCarey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.comBlogger480125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-73588846437785102012024-03-03T10:44:00.002-05:002024-03-03T11:03:35.696-05:00Sea To Sea Race Report<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZV8syvZ3LK163Wo6N0VBuUzDkabyD6PDUbDttY9cHelseZu37f5tmk2oY5sxFlnFgab_69MRky-x54UapVjmsQuKjDR0k9iBWNadplf_jF9N2HnVsZltVnIEzd6rwJsN33dKcBxhj2TkN1yiGxjW4YCSGlztyHzoPlyFHtAIGYl4WP5REEVQ-kWxmUs/s1300/Sea%20To%20Sea%20banner%20with%20number.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1100" data-original-width="1300" height="339" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZV8syvZ3LK163Wo6N0VBuUzDkabyD6PDUbDttY9cHelseZu37f5tmk2oY5sxFlnFgab_69MRky-x54UapVjmsQuKjDR0k9iBWNadplf_jF9N2HnVsZltVnIEzd6rwJsN33dKcBxhj2TkN1yiGxjW4YCSGlztyHzoPlyFHtAIGYl4WP5REEVQ-kWxmUs/w400-h339/Sea%20To%20Sea%20banner%20with%20number.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>I was glad to see 4:45 am on the clock, as I had tossed and turned all night. I made some hotel room coffee, which tasted like the bottom of my shoe. Time to board the bus was quickly approaching and I still hadn't made race weight, which has NEVER been a problem.</p><p>Lisa and I grabbed the maps, 30 of them, as we boarded the bus for the ride over to St. Marks, the start of the race. We spent the next 2 hours doing the necessary prep work, marking the CP's and plotting our route. Several times during the 3 1/2 hour ride, I went to the lavatory, but the plumbing was not cooperating. This caused me some concern, as I am as regular as clockwork.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWkNLPP7i_G2mcqoCI7MussPXJ4tZd5GTSpZXQnuVnKW-mf2icwyDOlrnsAnIUhsykPJvkgfDL616XuOMuntOGEyE2G3XG1PG_WOfD9m7f4N-RNri3r7zngsa-D8i1QsEzss1lVdatGWqtkWObL6-t7rGgUx7wjM5EqQsmWaHE7Mmpo9pTCKiEZtWkG-A/s4032/Sea%20To%20Sea%20map%20work.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWkNLPP7i_G2mcqoCI7MussPXJ4tZd5GTSpZXQnuVnKW-mf2icwyDOlrnsAnIUhsykPJvkgfDL616XuOMuntOGEyE2G3XG1PG_WOfD9m7f4N-RNri3r7zngsa-D8i1QsEzss1lVdatGWqtkWObL6-t7rGgUx7wjM5EqQsmWaHE7Mmpo9pTCKiEZtWkG-A/w300-h400/Sea%20To%20Sea%20map%20work.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p>The start was at Saint Marks River City Park. I grabbed the satellite tracker, sealed my phone in a tamper-proof bag, and grabbed the map for the initial trek. With sunny skies and warmth, it was a good day to go into the belly of the beast.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsfF6OmptN3GbnWxSIdEShKkoe5VRz1cOu_W2PXLvVHIQ6Mnvg7NZYwhDRkXCxTx9F7MUGvEsVIH13tSFm0nECPuaR9rJnvboKfYgOscxw9BcqqIZbmvG8tvoWmBe__P8yi3ZDgF1exo4pk_5I_lwwcsQQQDUYwlz5xNDLv4c5JpKmr6zOWW6q4wqfwJU/s3088/Sea%20To%20Sea%20at%20the%20start.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsfF6OmptN3GbnWxSIdEShKkoe5VRz1cOu_W2PXLvVHIQ6Mnvg7NZYwhDRkXCxTx9F7MUGvEsVIH13tSFm0nECPuaR9rJnvboKfYgOscxw9BcqqIZbmvG8tvoWmBe__P8yi3ZDgF1exo4pk_5I_lwwcsQQQDUYwlz5xNDLv4c5JpKmr6zOWW6q4wqfwJU/w300-h400/Sea%20To%20Sea%20at%20the%20start.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost Go Time!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><b>Leg 1: trek, 4 miles, 4/4 CP's</b></p><p>At 10:21 am, we were off. Lisa was in greyhound mode, and I was having a hard time keeping up. The CP's were straightforward and we nabbed them in 40 minutes.</p><p>From there, Lisa filled up our bottle 1/2 way with sand, and I stowed it away in my pack. We would carry that little bottle with us to the finish and fill the remaining half up with sand from the east coast beach. More than once that bottle caused me anxiety, digging into my pack to ensure that it was still there.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBPP2auncjY-drTCQ4M40pvx0OueCbtVevdv4EyEIDbXT-euDP_NcSA-8pAkQLigyZLlscl-JyBQuZJibTv38Wb6cmOfp1yIpfsO0atv6RzlO2VCJubz9_GPkRW_-kSi7m-wfPuxUa2Bxc8r19qcrbkxExlaPGlY9UqyOnBVezzMgREoSTPdaouAVClug/s1286/Sea%20To%20Sea%20first%20trek.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="858" data-original-width="1286" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBPP2auncjY-drTCQ4M40pvx0OueCbtVevdv4EyEIDbXT-euDP_NcSA-8pAkQLigyZLlscl-JyBQuZJibTv38Wb6cmOfp1yIpfsO0atv6RzlO2VCJubz9_GPkRW_-kSi7m-wfPuxUa2Bxc8r19qcrbkxExlaPGlY9UqyOnBVezzMgREoSTPdaouAVClug/w400-h266/Sea%20To%20Sea%20first%20trek.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I needed a tow rope!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><b>Leg 2: paddle, 25 miles, 3/3 CP's</b></p><p>We traveled south down the St. Marks River, fighting a 15 mph headwind. I was still in my trekking attire (t-shirt and light weight pants) and the sun felt good shining down on us. Even though I felt strong, a lot of teams slowly passed us. At first it was a bit frustrating, but I also knew that we would most likely reel them in later, as they seemed to be exerting themselves a lot.</p><p>We pulled ashore to collect CP 5, as it was on land about 0.4 miles from the river bank. There was a "trail," although quite soggy and boggy. Hopping back in the canoe, we then made for the lighthouse in the distance as that would be where we would round the point and begin to paddle in the Apalachee Bay. Once we hit the bay, we were met with a serious crosswind and choppy waters. I saw some land on the horizon that was about 1/4 inch tall. I asked Lisa if she thought that was where we were headed. She said yep and I thought OMG! I estimated it to be 14 miles of paddling in this bay where it was a struggle just to keep the boat in a straight line and at a speed of 3 mph. There must have been a serious current for although we had a cross wind coming hard at us from the south, our boat was being pulled out to sea. </p><p>When we landed on the island to nab CP6, we both put on our midweight base layer and our rain gear. With the sun getting lower in the sky, the constant winds, and the ocean spray soaking us, we were starting to get chilled. We still had miles to go and the land on the horizon did not appear to be getting any bigger. The waves were rough enough to cause a few solo racers in non sea worthy kayaks to capsize and require rescue by canoeists around them and even one fishing boat came to help. The canoes were getting swamped with water and it required a lot of bailing. </p><p>We finally made it to the mouth of the Aucilla River and the winds died and the water became glassy. As the sun was setting, we nabbed CP7 on our way to TA1, the Mandalay boat ramp. We were able to get to the TA just as darkness enveloped us. Here we ditched the boats, grabbed our bins, found our bikes, and prepared for the third leg. </p><p>It was now 7 pm. Shivering uncontrollably, I immediately took off my wet paddling clothes, caring less about being naked in a sea of adventure racers and more about getting warm ASAP. Putting my light on my helmet, changing out to a bigger pack, acquiring water and food, and attempting to poop again (no luck) took about 50 minutes. </p><p><br /></p><p><b>Leg 3: bike, 82 miles, 9/9 CP's</b></p><p>We headed out under the cover of darkness, with our lights shining the way. It felt oh so good to be pedaling. Night time temps were at a pleasant 50 degrees and I managed to stay warm for this leg.</p><p>The first few CP's were spread out but easy enough to collect as they were right along the road/trail. It was now approaching midnight and my stomach was taking a turn for the worse. I was burping a lot, nauseous, and whenever I would eat a bite, it would sit in my stomach like a rock. This was a new experience for me, and I attribute some of it due to the fact of not being able to have a bowel movement. So I just stopped ingesting anything, other than some sips of water.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2It5frYzILEYl3MJf3NfWi3_84Z6Vwp692epLksBWuG-LOy0eD1knyYXsFnCmf_28XWvNOyNup36ibbokUU0dCQcl-3rHS5U4gtUjUjpdoZJaZR2akJl8Og1lGtMAoCJRAt_UZ2-K0ozVI3O2f6O03b5w3C3y2gQKFwoo4M2UngqrpqEv2JiK_13poSA/s3909/IMG_2076.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3909" data-original-width="2614" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2It5frYzILEYl3MJf3NfWi3_84Z6Vwp692epLksBWuG-LOy0eD1knyYXsFnCmf_28XWvNOyNup36ibbokUU0dCQcl-3rHS5U4gtUjUjpdoZJaZR2akJl8Og1lGtMAoCJRAt_UZ2-K0ozVI3O2f6O03b5w3C3y2gQKFwoo4M2UngqrpqEv2JiK_13poSA/w268-h400/IMG_2076.jpg" width="268" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Those CP's ... all lies! 😂</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>CP13 (dead tree in clear cut) was the first slightly difficult one, but fortunately we had some extra sets of eyes, Lubano Capital Racing (David, Nick, and Cody), and were able to find it without too much time lost.</p><p>CP15 (holly tree on a knoll) required a bit of time as there was no "knoll" and about a gazillion holly trees! Once again we combined efforts with Lubono Capital Racing and eventually found it. </p><p>CP16 (distinct tree) took 25 minutes to find. I am calling bullshit on this one, as it was NOT a distinct tree. While there were several gargantuan trees that were distinct, the CP was hanging on this pitiful looking broke ass tree in the middle of heavy underbrush. I swear David must have a sixth sense, being able to communicate with trees, because he found this CP as well as the previous one.</p><p>From there we crossed under I-10 and started on the most direct route to CP17 (sinkhole). The trail soon became non-existent due to the shitshow of blowdowns. Up until this point, the trail had been cleared of the fallen trees from Hurricane Idalia. We attempted to bike whack through, but after 10 minutes, had traveled less than 100 meters. So we turned around and tried another route, taking the powerline easement to the main road and then attacking from the other side. It still took us and several other teams to find this sinkhole, which was further off the trail than indicated on the map. We spent an hour on this CP, but we did not want to quit, as we had cleared the course so far.</p><p>We arrived at TA2 at 6 am. I turned in my passport and grabbed the one for the next leg. The smell of hamburgers permeated the air, but the line was too long to wait, so I settled for reconstituting some broccoli cheddar bone broth soup, while I prepared for the next leg. As I opened up my bin, it began to rain lightly. I stared blankly into it, waiting for the items I needed to jump out into my hands. When they did not appear magically, I began a little cussfest, as the rain intensified. I'm sure Lisa was getting a chuckle out of my frustration. I slowly got out the necessary gear, including nutrition, the sight of which made my stomach knot up. Despite my bloated abdomen, now carrying around 2 days of shit, I managed to choke down my bone broth; at least it was warm and savory.</p><p>This was probably my lowest moment, as thoughts of "how the hell can I keep this up for 2 more days," raced through my mind. Lisa was buzzing around me, ready to go, and waiting on me, as I was having a pity party. She got rid of my trash, took care of my bike bag, and then took care of my bin, after I was finished getting out what I needed. We spent about 50 minutes at this transition.</p><p><br /></p><p><b>Leg 4: trek, 30 miles, 9/10 CP's</b></p><p>My pack was super heavy, as I had 2.5 liters of water in it, along with food and all my mandatory gear. It felt like a death march early on. Why I filled it up so much, I do not know, for we were trekking along the Suwanee River. I was still feeling sorry for myself. Lisa was crushing it and could have run/shuffled had it not been for me. I was in no condition to go any faster than a speed walk.</p><p>CP18 was down by the river. As we grabbed that one, Randy Ericksen was trying to get us to cross the river, "It will save you 5 miles," he said. Only if you were going to stay on the Florida Trail. We opted to walk the railroad tracks and and then several miles of road, before getting back on the trail. This could have been a runnable section, but I was still feeling ill. I also felt like I was letting Lisa down. I finally got the poles out of my pack and using these as crutches, was able to pick up the pace a little.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj68Fanus-LYy7RiPmIszJBvOMY_MJQB5KSNqeYr6JKNoJKq5jma6VphTQWVYmzobRc85IyPqNhS_YFWl6zbE8odzWZLBRjNl8GbygJjEtV4WWYC57xrStg1hguwhkYdQsaL3vZ2rjQvpV9HcRpiA0W-Cg4vQ076aNuza73pASGhMRlKTtyH4T-QBY1X8/s1286/Sea%20To%20Sea%20Trek%20me.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="858" data-original-width="1286" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj68Fanus-LYy7RiPmIszJBvOMY_MJQB5KSNqeYr6JKNoJKq5jma6VphTQWVYmzobRc85IyPqNhS_YFWl6zbE8odzWZLBRjNl8GbygJjEtV4WWYC57xrStg1hguwhkYdQsaL3vZ2rjQvpV9HcRpiA0W-Cg4vQ076aNuza73pASGhMRlKTtyH4T-QBY1X8/w400-h266/Sea%20To%20Sea%20Trek%20me.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So much deadfall and blowdowns!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>The forecast called for scattered showers and a high of 70. We did encounter some occasional light rain, so would pull out our rain jackets for 5-10 minutes at a time. The day was comfortably warm and I shed my base layer and wore just the Warrior bib. </p><p>As we were walking along a paved road, against traffic, an old dude in a clapped out car came across the lane, and asked us to approach his vehicle. We did not and kept moving. So now he is driving in the wrong lane and asked us if we knew about the bees that made milk. I said, no, to which he responded, "boo-bees." I replied, "Have a good day, sir," and he finally drove off. Lisa said he probably didn't have any pants on. </p><p>Soon we entered Holton Creek WMA and found a water spigot, where Lisa filled. Dumbass me, a glutton for punishment, still had plenty. This section along the Florida Trail had multiple re routes because of the hurricane. It was all marked well, but with all the zig and zagging, it definitely increased our mileage. My feet were beginning to develop hot spots all over, as the re-routes were up and down and off-camber. At one point I took my shoes and socks off and noticed several blisters forming on my toes, forefoot, and heels. Not terribly bad, but something I wanted to address at the next TA. I couldn't understand why, as I have never had an issue with blisters. I could only surmise that it was due to how wet my feet were staying, what with the paddle, sweating, and the rain we were encountering.</p><p>We caught up to Jim and Susie at CP24 (oak at sinkhole). Trekking with them over the next 5 miles or so was quite enjoyable. It did make the time go by faster and got my mind out of a funk. As we hit CP 26 (foot bridge), we opted to not go for CP25, as we were behind schedule, and that out and back that would have taken 40 minutes. </p><p>After grabbing CP27A, we were envisioning some warm TA food and getting back on the bikes. The day had been beautiful and we would be able to ride some in the daylight. But as we approached the cattle pastures, we heard rolls of thunder. Looking north, the skies were as black as night and the clouds were angry ... like tornadic angry! "You have got to be fucking kidding me," Lisa and I said in synchrony. </p><p>We made it to CP27B when the heavens opened up. The once dry roadbed we were walking on soon turned into a creek. We looked like drowned rats as we hit the TA and immediately went over to the food tent. It was raining buckets for 40 minutes; it dumped at least an inch. So we ate; those grilled cheese, egg, and bacon sandwiches were scrumptious! My stomach was finally happy. We each inhaled two.</p><p>When the rain abated, I went to retrieve our bins while Lisa snagged some dry space in one of the box trucks that transports our gear. After a couple rounds through the bins, I could not find ours. I asked Lisa to come help, as I was probably just overlooking the obvious. But nope, she couldn't find them either. I asked a volunteer for assistance. When she could not find them, she asked if we had put them back on the box truck at the previous TA when we had finished with them. Oh, crap! We had forgotten to. </p><p>Luckily there was a nice gentleman in a Sprinter van who went and retrieved them for us. But this would take 30 minutes. While waiting for our bins, we both hit the porta john. Neither one of us was successful. </p><p>Once our bins arrived, I opened it up to find that three sets of clothes were drenched ... WTF! Then I saw the crack in my lid. As if I did not already have challenges, yet here was another one. Fortunately I piecemealed some warmer gear. The night was supposed to drop into the 40's, so I put on a heavy wool base layer as well as leg warmers.</p><p>We spent 90 minutes at that TA.</p><p><b>Leg 5: Bike, 63 miles, 6/13 CP's</b></p><p>It was 5:30 pm when we left. The roads, which had been firm and dry were squishy, like riding on a wet sponge. My energy was good, my spirits had improved, and despite the course conditions, I felt almost invincible. It must have been the real food at the TA.</p><p>We collected the first few CP's with ease, but I was kind of surprised about CP30 (Jim Mike hill). It was really a hill, a solid 100m climb. When we hit the town of White Springs, we initially set out to get CP31A, but after seeing the first 200m, which was all underwater, we turned back and headed to CP37A. We made it to the low spot, searched a few minutes, couldn't find it, so Lisa said to go deeper. We climbed over and through a thick palmetto thicket and found it, about 25m deeper than the low spot. </p><p>From there we headed to CP37B. Since this one was a two-parter, you had to get both A and B to receive one CP credit. Easy enough and the trails were dry on this side (or so we thought) so we next picked up CP38A(pine at a wall of palm thickets). We approached this from the southwest, along an old abandoned road. We were having some difficulty finding a pine tree until Lisa pointed to one about 30 meters away, through some dense brush ... O Miss Eagle eyes! </p><p>CP38B was more difficult to find as the trail did not appear to line up with the map, most likely due to the flooding. As we were studying our map, Team Thisability rode by us, hot on the scent of CP38B. We followed them to where the trail just disappeared ... underwater. I was definitely not keen on getting wet tonight, as the temps were supposed to drop into the 40's. But the look in Lisa's eyes told me otherwise. We followed Thisability through the flooded trail and even forded a thigh deep creek crossing. Riding their wake of water, we nabbed the B portion. (Looking back at my Strava, we blew right by CP39A, but it might have proven just as difficult, given the flooding situation).</p><p>We decided to skip the other CP's in this area, as it was 11pm (2 hours behind schedule). We hopped on the Florida Trail, hit a side road that brought us back out to CR 246 to US441. We blew right by the turn onto Northeast Burlap; Lisa thought the sign read Bluebird. We back tracked and got back on course. As we were traveling down Northeast Molino, I started to see Lisa weaving on the bike. She said she was falling asleep. After struggling for a few miles, we stopped along the road to CP40A, she pulled out her puffy, and took a powernap right on the dirt road.</p><p>Twenty minutes later we nabbed the CP40A, but minutes later rode right past the retaining ponds. That was my fault. Lisa was still fighting the sleep monster and although I saw the body of water, I thought that it was a much smaller one that we should be looking for. We were 1.5 miles down the road when we discovered my mistake. Part of me wanted to say screw it, let's just get to the TA. But the competitor in me did not want all that energy spent in acquiring the A portion to go to waste. That mistake cost us 30 minutes.</p><p>Lisa had to stop 3 more times on the way to the TA, because of falling asleep. It was weird because it only happened while she was pedaling. Once she stopped and got off the bike, she was wide awake. We made it to the TA at 4 am. We decided to get some sleep here, after we ate some hot TA food and change into dry clothes. Apparently my stomach could "stomach" the real food better than what I brought. The volunteers were awesome at this hour, treating us like queens, smiling and laughing. </p><p>While I was waiting on my grilled cheese and egg sandwich, Hunter approached me and asked when we were gonna start the O-relay course. He also told us that we were currently in 3rd place! Shut the front door! What a morale boost. Had I known of my sleep dep superpower before this, I would have gone out and got a couple CP's while Lisa slept. But I told Hunter we were skipping the relay for a 2 hour sleep and needing to get back out on the next leg to make the future cut-offs.</p><p>The race-provided tents were all occupied so we took over the handicap stall of the bathroom, pulled out our bivies and used our packs as pillows. Lisa fell asleep immediately. Before I laid down, I made another attempt at having a bowel movement. Five minutes later and with enough grunting and straining to cause a brain aneurysm, out popped a small log, which I swear came out sideways! Now I have 3 days of 💩 I am carrying around. Thankful all my pants had stretchy waistbands 😂</p><p>I think I may have dozed off for a few minutes, but I got cold and woke up not soon after lying down. At the most I got 15 minutes. At this point, I should have gone out on the O-relay, but all my biking gear was wet. Fear of freezing to death on the next leg trumped more CP's, so I used the hand dryer in the bathroom to dry out my gear as well as my trekking shoes ... and eat some more, while Lisa power napped. We spent 3 hours 15 minutes at this TA.</p><p><b>Leg 6: O-relay, 0/6 CP's</b></p><p>Skipped</p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b>Leg 7: Bike, 50 miles, 3 CP's</b></p><p>We left the TA at 6:30 am. This next leg was pretty straightforward. Lisa's 1 hour 40 minutes of sleeping revived her and she was motoring down the spongy sandy roads. I was not quite as sparkly, but spirits were good as I was warm, dry, and well fed. And then we came to a low spot in the road that was flooded and no walk around. You have got to be freakin' kidding me! I saw a truck just up the road and prayed that it was heading this way because I was going to ask him for a ride across this ridiculousness. It turned off before it got to us, so I had to HTFU. It was knee deep and cold. At least the sun was out and we had bluebird skies, so it was not really too bad, other than my feet and blisters getting wet and staying that way for several hours.</p><p>We did enjoy 3 legit descents on this section; the kind where you can just stand and coast and say yipee! CP43 was a c-store near the town of Macclenney We did purchase some water as well as sunglasses for Lisa, as she had forgotten hers in the bin and some lip balm for me.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoSceOrJpZs9cGWf1fIAbWkKx8ZpDjMqnvqd2w3-yzSCSuBZMfnaPJvE6EZukrcUf-ytjLGxmAiSXLY8qtDnp_axaHCE_WJOgKzlCXvTRADg-Zp5rSi0HUFhLy0GiQ7fvwyM65bGuiz-aR4SCpeQ0nPTWj5TAPLyXowFMhXWxjREbqhGhAO5BOssB7jxs/s1286/Sea%20To%20Sea%20C-Store%20Lisa.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="858" data-original-width="1286" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoSceOrJpZs9cGWf1fIAbWkKx8ZpDjMqnvqd2w3-yzSCSuBZMfnaPJvE6EZukrcUf-ytjLGxmAiSXLY8qtDnp_axaHCE_WJOgKzlCXvTRADg-Zp5rSi0HUFhLy0GiQ7fvwyM65bGuiz-aR4SCpeQ0nPTWj5TAPLyXowFMhXWxjREbqhGhAO5BOssB7jxs/w400-h266/Sea%20To%20Sea%20C-Store%20Lisa.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting ready to sport her new $3.00 shades</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWAynJxLsp8-LPkGUerrJC1ij2OQyAgdvjjUrY7jSPHWufqQif5xM0fJMt0YdQU7TA_345vp03Cf3jM78guU40UHeP8bq1xlJPNu6Zv8FAbEszBVVxK0jbWBOcRrswa1Ziytldnz93aCRUeJ06teOCoWyNCqqD7IINPywAYhZKfh6_QqfkX1rSCEIyML8/s1286/Sea%20To%20Sea%20C-Store%20me.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="858" data-original-width="1286" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWAynJxLsp8-LPkGUerrJC1ij2OQyAgdvjjUrY7jSPHWufqQif5xM0fJMt0YdQU7TA_345vp03Cf3jM78guU40UHeP8bq1xlJPNu6Zv8FAbEszBVVxK0jbWBOcRrswa1Ziytldnz93aCRUeJ06teOCoWyNCqqD7IINPywAYhZKfh6_QqfkX1rSCEIyML8/w400-h266/Sea%20To%20Sea%20C-Store%20me.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Notice the difference in how we dressed.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>The roads through Macclenny and then CR 228 were dangerous. No shoulder and cars whipping past us at 60-70mph. Fortunately the wind was in our favor and we made quick work of this section. We arrived at TA #4 at 11:30am. The sun was out and it was warming up nicely. As I had left my light weight trekking pants in the paddle bag, Lisa let me borrow a pair of hers. The volunteers were cooking quesadillas, so we ate a couple while transitioning, and grabbed one to go. We laid out all our clothing and shoes to get as dry as possible before changing. I spent some time drying out my feet and taping my blisters, which were quite painful now. We spent an hour at this TA.</p><p><br /></p><p><b>Leg 6: trek, 13 miles, 7/7 CP's</b></p><p>As I was preparing, I happened to see a couple of teams start their trek. They made their way down an embankment to WTF?!? A creek! They were holding their packs high above their heads as the water went up past their belly buttons. Another exasperated "You got to be freakin' kidding me!" moment. I had just taped my blisters and put on dry socks and shoes and you are telling me that I am going to get soaked within the first 10 meters of this trek! A volunteer mentioned that usually this creek is only shin deep, but what with all the rain Florida has been having ... </p><p>Lisa did manage to find a slightly shallower crossing. With my hiking poles to steady us, we forded the creek which was butt deep and ice cold! Cold plunges may be all the rage, but not 257 miles and 2+ days into an expedition race. I did take my socks off and once across, drained the water and sand out of my shoes. At least with dry socks, my feet were not soggy Sponge Bob wet. And going commando in Lisa's orienteering super lightweight pants made for a quick dry.</p><p>This trek was in Jennings State Forest, land that had topography! It was beautiful and the trails were in great shape. There was a lot of up and down, which hurt my feet, but the hiking poles helped to minimize the pain. We were yo-yo'ing with the Air Force Special Warfare team. Although they were running, Lisa's bushwhack skills kept us right on their tails, at a fast walk.</p><p>CP46 (turpentine stump) stumped us for 30 minutes before Lisa figured out that we had just not gone quite far enough. Would have been nice to know there was an actual sign for this one on the trail 😆. We nabbed all the others on this trek in a reasonable amount of time. Here is where I don't remember much, as halfway through this trek, my eyes had that 1000 yard stare. My mind went numb and along with that so did the pain. All I could think about was taking a nap at TA # 5.</p><p>We arrived at the TA at 5:30pm. I grabbed some PFD's and went to a soft grassy spot and lay down. I told Lisa to give me 30 minutes. After 15 minutes of just laying there, I realized sleep was not going to come. I went back to Lisa and finished preparing for the paddle.</p><p><br /></p><p><b>Leg 7: Paddle, 24 miles, 7/8 CP's</b></p><p>We grabbed a newer canoe and drug it down to the river, actually called North Fork Black Creek. This was the same creek we had followed during the last trek. We were concerned about how narrow and swift the water was flowing, as well as all the obstacles present early on. But it had widened quite a bit by the time we put in.</p><p>The current was fast and we were like a rally car sliding through the corners. We enjoyed this free speed for a few miles, snaking our way through deadfall and half submerged logs. We then began seeing boat docks and huge houses to go with. The creek widened, the current slowed a little, but we didn't have to worry about running into downed trees anymore. The full moon was rising and there were parties happening at many of the houses. I could smell hamburgers and hear music playing. I also began to envision climbing into one of the larger boats, one that would definitely have a bedroom with a king size bed; I was definitely jonesing on the creature comforts.</p><p>We almost missed CP52 (boat ramp) as it was obscurely hidden amongst some deadfall. CP's 53 and 54 involved going up into backwater, but not far. Luckily for us, racers were coming out as we were headed in, reinforcing what we thought was the right area. Once we hit a confluence, we lost the current and were under our own power. The moon was so bright we didn't even need lights until we got close to a CP. I had several episodes of the yawns and my lizard brain kept nudging me to close my eyes for just a few minutes. Oh, hell, no! I would then reposition myself and focus on paddling harder. If I kerplunked over the side of the canoe, Lisa would make me swim the rest of the way.</p><p>We passed several canoes, with their occupants just sitting there doing nothing. We asked if they were ok, to which they responded they were just taking a break. For me, I never even thought of stopping. For one, I would get cold. And two, it is going to take just that much longer to get to the take out. </p><p>Team Thisability came blowing by us, paddling for all they were worth. We did some basic math and realized that there was no possible way we could finish the paddle by the 6 am cut off at TA6. Even Team Thisability was probably not gonna make it, as they couldn't possible keep up that pace for another 9 miles. We strategized and decided to go for all the points on the river, so that if we got short-coursed, we would at least have a shot of having a higher placement, than those who chose to go for TA6 and didn't make the cut-off. The short course option was to get off the river at mile 24, at a marina, just before the Black Creek emptied into St. John's River.</p><p>As we approached the marina, we pulled over to get clarification about the TA6 cut off. Lisa got a little heated when the volunteers would not answer her on the near side, but told us to paddle around to the take out side. I knew she thought this was costing us precious moments, in the off chance that the TA6 cut-off had been extended. But as we approached the boat ramp, they were telling everyone that this was a mandatory take out. Conditions in the St John's River were too dangerous to continue ... strong winds and white caps. We would all get a free shuttle ride over to TA6 with no penalty.</p><p>We were elated that we did not have to paddle another 8 miles. We jumped into a warm van and Hunter drove us over to the TA. That van ride was a moment of "having your cake and eating it, too." We arrived at the TA at 1:30 am.</p><p>We prepared for our last leg. The grilled cheese sandwich, chili, and hot chocolate gave me the urge I had been waiting 3 days for. I ran to the porta john and one of the best poops of my life! Not that I completely emptied, but enough that I no longer looked pregnant.</p><p>This was the coldest morning of the race, upper 30's/low 40's I believe. Both Lisa and I put all our layers on, including our puffy jackets. I slapped chemical warmers on all appendages and my chest. We headed out at 3 am.</p><p><br /></p><p><b>Leg 8: Bike, 62 miles, 13/14 CP's</b></p><p>We were glad to be riding through the community of Silverleaf at this hour. We had the roads to ourselves. And this place looked like it would be heavily trafficked come sun up. It was quite surreal; millions of dollars of brand new real estate, yet not a soul in sight. All the roads, buildings, and residences looked perfect, like we had just come out of the wilderness and entered Utopia. This went on for 10 miles. </p><p>We were so set on getting to Guana River WMA that we blew past CP61. I should have said something sooner because I thought that there was another CP before we hit trails, but I didn't, until Lisa stopped before the bridge to get her bearings. We backtracked almost 2 miles to get it, but at least it was a quick pedal back. That bridge over the Tolomato River almost broke me, after riding so much flat. The quads were on fire!</p><p>Nabbing CP62 was the first time we had to take a bearing. Nothing like walking through 200 meters of dew soaked underbrush when it is 38 degrees to make you feel painfully alive ... and cold. It felt like the temperature had dropped 10 degrees from Utopia to the WMA. Despite all my clothing and chemical warmers I was shivering. But I knew daylight was fast approaching and with that, the sun's warmth.</p><p>We almost gave up on CP63 (highest point). There were many sets of eyes looking for this one and still no luck. If anything, the highest point may have been 12 inches higher than the surrounding land. Basically it all looked flat as a pancake. But Lisa's eagle eyes prevailed once again, and after about 30 minutes of getting nowhere, she found it!</p><p>I was giving Lisa time checks on the 1/2 hour. We wanted to make sure to give us a nice cushion to get to the finish. We opted not to get CP64, but headed down to CP65 (viewing tower). Of course, the CP would be at the top of the platform, 3 flights up. Legs were angry on that one!</p><p>CP66 looked difficult and most likely under water, so we were going to pass on that one, too. But lo and behold, we came upon a handmade sign that said to stay on trail to get to CP66. And then Hunter popped out from behind some palmettos, cheering us on. He said that the original placement of CP66 would have required a swim. So they moved it to the road we were on, which was still quite soupy, but rideable. </p><p>Despite having to ride through many mud bogs, we thoroughly enjoyed the single track and snagged the remaining CP's in the WMA. Lisa took one for the team when she waded through belly button deep water to get the one at the South Point. </p><p>From there we hopped on to the bike lane along A1A and rode 8 miles. With a strong tailwind and renewed vigor, we slayed that last section, cruising along at 17-18mph. The final CP was at Vilano Beach. While Lisa punched our passport one last time, I struggled at finding a quick method of filling the remainder of our bottle with sand.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXV6fs9xqBu1U_qH7DqPSCv0SoyjlTvwG_VLQMIyzvlIUScHzavP1tRVqjNhUlaWXFBBG7OEOcKN2ae8BCgR0uVyR0pPyNXCCOaa5sSgCAxH43THHfmVkkthHco8OUKO-NTSninGrBTbZ5LG0MTqxfUvbwYfYkvZpcjyZqIAAXKDS5huWcaBb19Y4HcEQ/s1286/Sea%20To%20Sea%20last%20CP.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="858" data-original-width="1286" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXV6fs9xqBu1U_qH7DqPSCv0SoyjlTvwG_VLQMIyzvlIUScHzavP1tRVqjNhUlaWXFBBG7OEOcKN2ae8BCgR0uVyR0pPyNXCCOaa5sSgCAxH43THHfmVkkthHco8OUKO-NTSninGrBTbZ5LG0MTqxfUvbwYfYkvZpcjyZqIAAXKDS5huWcaBb19Y4HcEQ/w400-h266/Sea%20To%20Sea%20last%20CP.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost finished</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZBrnGXCT7zUvvGxK5nVzdwmsqAFhzQUfBOuqiDiEGaTpK8ZUG9hd6SOHHVAHsEI-WZaYGclPMLMwP8Rag4abXRGSDKV1SJ5lY7aTX-TRbscmkqGindDsxZ7rCWqVcYCW1Q3Jj2R6XrwRP_NFyxbZnJCe3oilVpERIgoN0zrCG_wbkuLKBdw6vcZa08rY/s4032/IMG_2075.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZBrnGXCT7zUvvGxK5nVzdwmsqAFhzQUfBOuqiDiEGaTpK8ZUG9hd6SOHHVAHsEI-WZaYGclPMLMwP8Rag4abXRGSDKV1SJ5lY7aTX-TRbscmkqGindDsxZ7rCWqVcYCW1Q3Jj2R6XrwRP_NFyxbZnJCe3oilVpERIgoN0zrCG_wbkuLKBdw6vcZa08rY/w300-h400/IMG_2075.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p>From there, it was one more giant bridge crossing over the intracoastal waterway, and then on into the finishing chute at the Southern Oaks Inn. We crossed the finish line at 10:38 am, 72:18:31 later. We captured first place in Open Women, and 5th place overall. We nabbed 56 CP's, 61 if you include the 2-parters, and got credit for 2 more (CP11 and CP 58), as did everyone else, for a grand total of 63. Total distance was 353 miles.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXghnXEGRU9a0yMIlIzoeAtX42PC6chDtnO-IUq__EEllwAxJn7TBQ9LdTSwrvV8x1KP5aJAoPfMzM38OrJZSgncke2Ovw7pxZz5NQcOENMCjXy17A56X4a6sRMWoh_CjgTMh1LkYYcj_DZXfIzvDoDZIeRwfQhxLkwwGjv7nt6eutomnPzwKFzMZMs0A/s2048/Sea%20To%20Sea%20podium.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXghnXEGRU9a0yMIlIzoeAtX42PC6chDtnO-IUq__EEllwAxJn7TBQ9LdTSwrvV8x1KP5aJAoPfMzM38OrJZSgncke2Ovw7pxZz5NQcOENMCjXy17A56X4a6sRMWoh_CjgTMh1LkYYcj_DZXfIzvDoDZIeRwfQhxLkwwGjv7nt6eutomnPzwKFzMZMs0A/w400-h266/Sea%20To%20Sea%20podium.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>What an amazing adventure! This has been the hardest race I have ever done, and I have done a lot over the past 25 years. The first 24 hours I was in shock, but over the next 48 hours, my mind went to a place that I had not experienced before. I had several aches and pains that developed the first day (the nethers, foot blisters, shoulders from heavy ass pack, but somehow I was able to mute the pain over the next 2 days, despite those problem areas getting worse.</p><p>I also learned that my AR superpower is sleep deprivation. I only got 15 minutes and those were restless at best. I will definitely use this to my advantage in the future ... yes, I am hooked! As far as nutrition goes, I learned that eating at night does not bode well with me. I do better with taking in a solid 1000 calorie meal in the late evening and then "fasting" until daylight ... similar to how I eat in my daily life, although not that many calories.</p><p><b>Thank you, thank you, thank you Lisa, for asking me to be your team mate. While I felt like the caboose, you never once got frustrated with me. I went into this thinking I would be the one to pull the extra weight at the TA's, yet it was you, taking me under your wing, and assisting me with getting ready for the next leg in as timely a fashion as possible. Your patience was remarkable during the treks when I was on the struggle bus. Your navigational skills were exceptional, sniffing out the most difficult ones when other teams gave up. Your strength was undeniable, steering our canoe through rough waters. Had you raced this solo, there is no doubt in my mind that you would have been a challenger for the top spot overall.</b> <b>I could not have had a better team mate!</b></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPdGxykLqw_VxmhyphenhyphenfAME1iMzkOOe4IKz_VAVkSBtMLql-0LPSZ9mB-zjf-O-ROW2s6UeKnFkHvc54nYYZiPu5nVTKKPIoZzUO6NGBKSV_utJaUBwx4DFzmHVMbHaLcsbTS9FxbZgsk11pp5W0BlJX-cNeay-GAQ3B46p9T80jyX32xwD8f-W5qWb5zzI/s2000/Sea%20To%20Sea%20beach%20finish.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1335" data-original-width="2000" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPdGxykLqw_VxmhyphenhyphenfAME1iMzkOOe4IKz_VAVkSBtMLql-0LPSZ9mB-zjf-O-ROW2s6UeKnFkHvc54nYYZiPu5nVTKKPIoZzUO6NGBKSV_utJaUBwx4DFzmHVMbHaLcsbTS9FxbZgsk11pp5W0BlJX-cNeay-GAQ3B46p9T80jyX32xwD8f-W5qWb5zzI/w400-h268/Sea%20To%20Sea%20beach%20finish.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>What David Goggins says about the 40% Rule, "When you mind tells you that you're exhausted, fried, and totally tapped out, you're really only 40 percent done," he's absolutely f*cking right!</p>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-63141507326090968962024-02-21T16:04:00.002-05:002024-02-21T16:04:32.338-05:00Sea to Sea Expedition Race is fixin' to happen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiePuVuHvNOvYPwVnar_EymomMKXIyoJ7O0ERL8AgQIIrSI-2Cpbi8S7ga2RGdk8dI-wDaJy45p2_J-76ivQXCGcPhHc9cpwwEnvvDmjdOBLyxWlF3f2InCtwwUHAzOdNbBSdQLKbKrinuPcCa2DDyI4AAxt-PKkSWP03k8i8qsBYEbCeK6R8VTEJAPk4A/s5712/Sea%20To%20Sea%20Pre%20Race%20Photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5712" data-original-width="4284" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiePuVuHvNOvYPwVnar_EymomMKXIyoJ7O0ERL8AgQIIrSI-2Cpbi8S7ga2RGdk8dI-wDaJy45p2_J-76ivQXCGcPhHc9cpwwEnvvDmjdOBLyxWlF3f2InCtwwUHAzOdNbBSdQLKbKrinuPcCa2DDyI4AAxt-PKkSWP03k8i8qsBYEbCeK6R8VTEJAPk4A/w300-h400/Sea%20To%20Sea%20Pre%20Race%20Photo.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Tomorrow is a not a BDR, but a BDA (Big Dumb Adventure). While it looked like a fun and exciting challenge back in the fall, now that it is less than 12 hours away, it looks formidable. I am not worried about my fitness, as I am confident that I can bike, trek, and paddle 350-400 miles over 3 days. </p><p>What concerns me the most is being cold and wet. As of now, there is a chance of rain Thursday night into Friday morning and the nights will be in the 40's. This body loves warmth; I excel in the heat/humidity compared to others. I have never been able to acclimate well to the cold. It has only gotten worse since menopause. </p><p>I also have Raynaud's, a condition where the vessels in your extremities constrict excessively in response to cold, limiting the blood supply to the affected area. Sometimes, temperatures in the 50's can trigger it. If this happens for an extended period, I lose dexterity in my hands and feet, which makes it extra challenging to shift and brake on the bike, and for punching a checkpoint or digging in my pack to extricate what I might need at any moment.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZZuzj-IfvVifdOnULGwat2eHtdAeBwpnXFuouHR2MAPsEr5yI5iRpX10XiwvfjoyLNMSI1ODDfAWfybaoU7Qx8wlffcnm2FRlaQe26bl17oOz2-WejmAZkBPbnTinFyKtfzhRx-spjmPuF3fooEI99uBBOYnE6OYfrLuqlOkY0beufeUBs3C4C_K4L-A/s4032/Sea%20To%20Sea%20Loading%20Bikes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZZuzj-IfvVifdOnULGwat2eHtdAeBwpnXFuouHR2MAPsEr5yI5iRpX10XiwvfjoyLNMSI1ODDfAWfybaoU7Qx8wlffcnm2FRlaQe26bl17oOz2-WejmAZkBPbnTinFyKtfzhRx-spjmPuF3fooEI99uBBOYnE6OYfrLuqlOkY0beufeUBs3C4C_K4L-A/w300-h400/Sea%20To%20Sea%20Loading%20Bikes.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I told the driver to take it easy in the turns.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>I have all the layers packed into my "bin of fears." This is a 27 gallon plastic tote that we have to pack all our supplies (nutrition, clothing, first aid, lights, shoes, spare parts), which has a weight limit of 40.0 pounds. If you saw my clothing, you would think I was racing in Alaska!</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5wS67jYnfW75koEfYEoyCcZ9GKFJqXQE4PzJaBsCsAV5Vs3EJCxA9ewT5Vp0kklO4wGewfY5z18OkwmbEZXRcEpBxZrGY_IcMBHqC0TuKM49YNZV1EqHzEWvo0CEo0axNtORWhnk2nTDoH58ccHEgw82ChiU-op42cCettbEMtNlNhAPVjep7MNoFI98/s4032/Sea%20To%20Sea%20AR%20bin%20items.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5wS67jYnfW75koEfYEoyCcZ9GKFJqXQE4PzJaBsCsAV5Vs3EJCxA9ewT5Vp0kklO4wGewfY5z18OkwmbEZXRcEpBxZrGY_IcMBHqC0TuKM49YNZV1EqHzEWvo0CEo0axNtORWhnk2nTDoH58ccHEgw82ChiU-op42cCettbEMtNlNhAPVjep7MNoFI98/w400-h300/Sea%20To%20Sea%20AR%20bin%20items.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>I have an awesome team mate that won't let me die of exposure, but I also don't want to be a burden and I want to hold my own throughout the event, perhaps even taking the lead in case she has an unexpected issue. So I will put on my triple G hat (grit, gristle, and gumption) and keep a positive mindset. After all, I chose to do this, I want to do this, and it is an opportunity so many people don't have. </p><p>I just finished watching "Society of the Snow." If those courageous young men can survive 72 days in the Andes in sub-zero temps, surely I can survive 72 hours.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmjItwiSvgTPyd0wWud2P2aBYXwomy1mCJJ4E04AnxfBVXITuvJWXaNEj7Xqf6dd2ttDl-Xrmx2LCBAk-k7cJTx1mV9oxbwNPeqBXQdNaTCC2pf0qALdZGt5kmla8Er6Eptx6fy1TnDlM8EeyG7o5205B3LUgAZGdxSRGq7U-EIMsnO2YmJ_I7vHun8zI/s4032/Sea%20To%20Sea%20Finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmjItwiSvgTPyd0wWud2P2aBYXwomy1mCJJ4E04AnxfBVXITuvJWXaNEj7Xqf6dd2ttDl-Xrmx2LCBAk-k7cJTx1mV9oxbwNPeqBXQdNaTCC2pf0qALdZGt5kmla8Er6Eptx6fy1TnDlM8EeyG7o5205B3LUgAZGdxSRGq7U-EIMsnO2YmJ_I7vHun8zI/w300-h400/Sea%20To%20Sea%20Finish.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking forward to this on Sunday</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><i>" 'It's impossible,' said pride. 'It's risky,' said experience. 'It's pointless,' said reason. 'Give it a try,' whispered the heart." -- Unknown</i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-17399250176913282942024-02-11T11:36:00.003-05:002024-02-11T11:38:21.670-05:00Snake Creek Gap TT - 34 Mile Race Report<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrWVlPy__T4vUMgRDOQNZyWgwt4RjM9iH5wa6HHDmAtuNx0sBnKrWwnezWQrZU19oXYZA_axoM02cSo0J76Z5XKDuGJ-uP4fyTJ6gbDBEKTpIZjYTJzF0NFIJhFDWeuMxzgraQL0M7jm3rwj6cfe9kuLrRA9D9Z5KyrhtnaTnoEcja0Fd4CStKUlElxVs/s4032/Snake%20Creek%20Gap%20TT%20February.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrWVlPy__T4vUMgRDOQNZyWgwt4RjM9iH5wa6HHDmAtuNx0sBnKrWwnezWQrZU19oXYZA_axoM02cSo0J76Z5XKDuGJ-uP4fyTJ6gbDBEKTpIZjYTJzF0NFIJhFDWeuMxzgraQL0M7jm3rwj6cfe9kuLrRA9D9Z5KyrhtnaTnoEcja0Fd4CStKUlElxVs/w300-h400/Snake%20Creek%20Gap%20TT%20February.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blaze, 6 years old and still crushin' it!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>This year marks the 20th anniversary of this race. It has taken on several evolutions since 2005, where it started out as a series of 5 races, starting at Dug Gap and finishing at Dry Creek. This year marks the last time there will be a 50 mile offering, and along with the BEST FEBRUARY weather since its inception, everyone showed up! </p><p>I feel very fortunate to have competed every year. While I have not raced every month of every year, based upon my record keeping, today will be the 46th time I have toe'd the line. While I have a few 50 mile buckles, I have opted to race the "meat and potatos" version since 2019. </p><p>With a dry, fast course and temps starting in the 40's and peaking in the 60's, this would have been the day to go for a sub-4 hour. However, I had just completed the Huracan the weekend before ... a 400 mile bike packing ITT in central Florida. So when I woke up that morning and my Garmin told me I had a training readiness score of 5 (out of 100) and Training Peaks said my Form was -35, I told myself to just go out, have fun, and enjoy being able to ride. Is a recovery ride even possible on The Snake 😂😂😂?</p><p>It was nice not to be shivering and having to do jumping jacks at the start to keep warm. I had a wool base layer and arm/leg warmers on, along with the chemical warmers in my shoes and gloves to keep my fingers and toes alive.</p><p>With the shuttle arriving just before 8 am, I was one of the last to go off. Perfect, as I was in my own little bubble most of the day. I didn't even let the fact that my Garmin would not acquire GPS satellites for the first 16 miles get to me.</p><p>While pedaling along before the bridge crossing, I did set a few goals since a sub-4 hour on the course was out of the question. They were to clean the entirety of the first half and not let Sierra catch me (she was racing the 50).</p><p>Once the climbing began, I was pleasantly surprised that I was able to get my heart rate up and that the legs didn't feel too too bad. Granny was my best friend of the day and I definitely wore those teeth down on that 52 over the course. </p><p>I did get annoyed slightly at a couple of riders that came upon me, not wanting to pass (as I asked), but intent on being "up my butt." I am pretty sure there is no drafting benefit at 5.3 mph. Eventually they either fell off their bike as I hit some steep sections at almost a "track-standing" pace, or they passed me as I took a breather before the next climb.</p><p>The Pine Needle Hill re-route was a nice change, eliminating the white knuckle descent, which I have a love/hate relationship with. Although that descent is baller fun, it has almost taken me out a time or two.</p><p>I was indeed able to "clean" all of Horn Mountain, including the clay hill climb, which was dry! Even the section of Pilcher's Pond, usually horsed up and muddy, was in primo shape. I rolled down into the parking lot about the hour 2 mark and had the volunteers refill my CamelBak while I consumed a gel and removed my arm warmers. I wanna give a shout out to these ladies as they have been manning this aid station for as long as I can remember. I bet they were happy for this weather, too!</p><p>After the 2 minute aid station stop, I slowly made my way up Middle Mountain, allowing my legs to come back to life. As a strong woman passed by me towards the top, I thought that Sierra had caught up to me. Fortunately it was the young speedster, Ava, so my goal of not getting passed by Sierra was still a possibility. Sasquatch scared the 💩 out of the person in front of me, which was good for a laugh. </p><p>Once on the ridge, it was a pleasant roll and I believe I even had a tail wind. The miles rolled on as I descended down to Swamp Creek and then made my way up Hurricane. It was here that I experienced my low ... legs were done, or at least felt so. </p><p>As I rounded the corner to begin the last single track section, I thanked the volunteers for being there and said out loud, "It's all downhill from here." A good friend (John Switow) told me a few years back when we raced the Appalachian Journey, that if you can make it to the last 25 miles of an event, you can finish it. So, for me, this section was my last "25 miles." </p><p>Despite the fatigue monster on my back, I had a respectable ride and continued my personal challenge to ride as much of the technical bits as possible. I surprised myself in a few sections and others, well, just couldn't manage to turn the pedals over. </p><p>I finished with a time of 4:23:20. Good enough for 2nd in the women over 40 class. And both mini goals accomplished. Hats off to Lisa with a time of 4:08:17. If the course is as good in March, I know she will be able to get her sub-4; me, too, hopefully.</p><p>This was definitely a 5-G kind of day: grit, gristle, gumption, granny, gear! </p>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-35877816931591896522024-02-02T14:25:00.003-05:002024-02-02T14:25:48.325-05:00Huracan 400 Ride Report -- Day 3<p> 6 am came early. My eyelids was swole and my legs were slightly sore and tired. But I was anxious to get the day started. Breakfast consisted of several cups of coffee and a couple of omelettes. We had to wait for the Winn Dixie to open at 7 am to grab some ride food to get us to the Publix in Inverness. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-jBrt1zk4ZT5xdlGb9nWr-LGZleOyXT-BCNAHtxbdxti6z7peYq1uzNjLShvDeGAboYmaLKrAzDPAe1UXlnL738UgXPO0zXAI7J36pt0ZEKRnaj6E-D8rJomcJ2AcccpJHF8PRhTBlNIfWF64_4V0ANYcXABI687yjmnqaUqqK63jDJmIF9wy3qM0SLY/s4032/Huracan%20Day%203%20Lisa%20breakfast.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-jBrt1zk4ZT5xdlGb9nWr-LGZleOyXT-BCNAHtxbdxti6z7peYq1uzNjLShvDeGAboYmaLKrAzDPAe1UXlnL738UgXPO0zXAI7J36pt0ZEKRnaj6E-D8rJomcJ2AcccpJHF8PRhTBlNIfWF64_4V0ANYcXABI687yjmnqaUqqK63jDJmIF9wy3qM0SLY/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%203%20Lisa%20breakfast.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sopping up the remaining gravy with more bacon!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>The five miles of the Withlacoochee Rail Trail was a nice start to get our legs warmed up. It had rained briefly during the night making hero dirt/sand at Croom. The temperature was also a cool 60 degrees and would not get any hotter today. </p><p>The single track was a welcome sight. My taint was already whimpering, so I used the opportunity on the trail to stand and coast as often as possible. Despite the nuisance pains and the fatigue, I was in a happy place here.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5LwJUK54Q9DqZidsaxZPigdSf4L43TjD9zIoJjInRJ_cJ701tgiplTO87mrzTBRU1HA3iaWBPsIfKW6BDwhErroZBOrHIvaEeaOZ3jUdGiP1wX2zh3RGu0EWw5bjup4Tn9-IX0304wuUfoWeZRsLIsCdJMZxUast_UIvDIQyQK8X2cHYa-IqKy-eq5U/s5712/Huracan%20Day%203%20Croom%20me.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5712" data-original-width="4284" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5LwJUK54Q9DqZidsaxZPigdSf4L43TjD9zIoJjInRJ_cJ701tgiplTO87mrzTBRU1HA3iaWBPsIfKW6BDwhErroZBOrHIvaEeaOZ3jUdGiP1wX2zh3RGu0EWw5bjup4Tn9-IX0304wuUfoWeZRsLIsCdJMZxUast_UIvDIQyQK8X2cHYa-IqKy-eq5U/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%203%20Croom%20me.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6UBv9WFM3AS4083MEDpR3Yh0XFAgadfMubafATi9ZNrGYfBR2Ze0doFDhpzAaqbsf_BjDLQ9IxgHmvCDEgXK1w4L-fQzLSTIgPvU56gXUQUm9OwlgkZIFqD3n9MCCdZxSa7SKEvl2Oz9GPMkYpM4V9AZ6_XM1UtbJ3rc9nQgXfo5EoF90SgnFVZIDEkk/s4032/Huracan%20Day%203%20Croom%20Lisa.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6UBv9WFM3AS4083MEDpR3Yh0XFAgadfMubafATi9ZNrGYfBR2Ze0doFDhpzAaqbsf_BjDLQ9IxgHmvCDEgXK1w4L-fQzLSTIgPvU56gXUQUm9OwlgkZIFqD3n9MCCdZxSa7SKEvl2Oz9GPMkYpM4V9AZ6_XM1UtbJ3rc9nQgXfo5EoF90SgnFVZIDEkk/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%203%20Croom%20Lisa.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSRYVPxXu-GtwV3a6iQBnFGb8ImacRcsqpdGDYW1ampuB2DNoU1MZ2BYEGcrQgWs6FyRc0B87rCDq9OWCoNavtSjqS1EsWux6zMlxjGd46rL4Fp_nC-KVDoNoh_faMfvl-8sL851X58os1T9VDyYGgWbojLC7nc1YGY7Hqii_pfTcUuO4B684BpPoH6oc/s4032/Huracan%20Day%203%20Croom%20Lindsey%20with%20palms.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSRYVPxXu-GtwV3a6iQBnFGb8ImacRcsqpdGDYW1ampuB2DNoU1MZ2BYEGcrQgWs6FyRc0B87rCDq9OWCoNavtSjqS1EsWux6zMlxjGd46rL4Fp_nC-KVDoNoh_faMfvl-8sL851X58os1T9VDyYGgWbojLC7nc1YGY7Hqii_pfTcUuO4B684BpPoH6oc/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%203%20Croom%20Lindsey%20with%20palms.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p>Lindsey's still had her patellofemoral pain. This prevented her from being able to stand and pedal out of the saddle. She didn't complain; she just embraced the suck. After 25 miles of Croom, we then rode a section of Florida Trail, which was a couple miles of rough or plowed double track. From there it was a pavement jaunt to Lake Lindsey. </p><p>Mother Nature had woken up by now and the dirty devil that she can be, decided to turn the winds today to once again hit us head on. I soon figured out that by pushing a harder gear and pedaling a lower cadence, that it had less of a "meat-grinder" effect to my lady bits. I also spent a good portion of the day standing and pedaling. So now, I am pretty sure I could finish a race if my saddle broke.</p><p>Lake Lindsey Mall was closed, being a Sunday. We had plenty of food, but took a short break to use the porta john and get water from the spigot. It was a hard push into the wind for what seemed like forever before we headed north into the Citrus WMA.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nI9lESoPoeIWP8LE_LHuR4EMe4RZ4f3Zy2mDYyaPjwix2xpvUJd7XaPc4SI6Cq8eBDSjcee62Ot_r732OvPtKDFsk6s7a0ASpG6GoKDT13rfmKwBJ3uacy3bMF81JhkxiXH_oqEDoePmHNOG2uwar-24uixF009ZKx0PbtL_Jw6G2DV5BDvhKEtU0HE/s4032/Huracan%20Day%203%20Citrus%20WMA%20Lisa%20far%20up%20road.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nI9lESoPoeIWP8LE_LHuR4EMe4RZ4f3Zy2mDYyaPjwix2xpvUJd7XaPc4SI6Cq8eBDSjcee62Ot_r732OvPtKDFsk6s7a0ASpG6GoKDT13rfmKwBJ3uacy3bMF81JhkxiXH_oqEDoePmHNOG2uwar-24uixF009ZKx0PbtL_Jw6G2DV5BDvhKEtU0HE/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%203%20Citrus%20WMA%20Lisa%20far%20up%20road.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brittle Road in the Citrus WMA</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>This area was stunningly beautiful. The roads were fast and the surrounding forests sheltered us from the winds. There was even a short section of single track.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVhXVytj3awgnjSqDdGeWK8t9M0QKfQX3ikISOI-ml1FX1uTyg8yjZ-LzLRZC2JUsRqgfjGfgwzGWW4OEj2ADM_mGayrQdwlI0999sUir2XsF7vWtu9zOm4fZ0KaxB_rqeZPnAUFqBqbOKRBij2jgSNiUZA3sZBIXwKlQ-O81SKHI8hxsYBd-Mwu9QJ38/s4032/IMG_1817.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVhXVytj3awgnjSqDdGeWK8t9M0QKfQX3ikISOI-ml1FX1uTyg8yjZ-LzLRZC2JUsRqgfjGfgwzGWW4OEj2ADM_mGayrQdwlI0999sUir2XsF7vWtu9zOm4fZ0KaxB_rqeZPnAUFqBqbOKRBij2jgSNiUZA3sZBIXwKlQ-O81SKHI8hxsYBd-Mwu9QJ38/w300-h400/IMG_1817.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Citrus WMA single track</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA1Lp_bZndezHJn6mluJzJziiCYqddyBx0iPzLCDJV2ixAEmxsX5VKBPcMEXa64fHZpO6IWVqdn8N1qDnEWJUKzlPd9TU_uBamKHN2hDzOH9VlSaPlkBqBOr5UidadNyfNnQ777lKzxChtTDQbnzzPZzN3XJ_vD38iGWl876RQS9Xryr1FtssFfliprxM/s4032/Huracan%20Day%203%20Trail%2013%20Citrus%20WMA.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA1Lp_bZndezHJn6mluJzJziiCYqddyBx0iPzLCDJV2ixAEmxsX5VKBPcMEXa64fHZpO6IWVqdn8N1qDnEWJUKzlPd9TU_uBamKHN2hDzOH9VlSaPlkBqBOr5UidadNyfNnQ777lKzxChtTDQbnzzPZzN3XJ_vD38iGWl876RQS9Xryr1FtssFfliprxM/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%203%20Trail%2013%20Citrus%20WMA.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trail 13 Citrus WMA</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Trails 10 and 9 through the wildlife management area were a much needed respite. We finally had a tailwind! So strong that we were able to easy pedal/coast for a good portion. This brought us into Inverness where we peeled off the route to hit the Publix.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSJaf9QEr5OWDeY9juXA75kVjkqCZu0fNPJ8LIpsGWG_jd-87-YKPwWsrj9LbyZnoSXjb42y0Y2y3PyVp_8skIfcgSNLA-gJcFZe0crDWIEQJ5tvJ8hRbFYLnCoOQOc6DfIFDrl1eLUjhi__a-r1i6QjeN1aXnUk7JhjCPk2ozIIavUye1lIM9a9c5Q9M/s4032/Huracan%20Day%203%20Publix%20lunch.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSJaf9QEr5OWDeY9juXA75kVjkqCZu0fNPJ8LIpsGWG_jd-87-YKPwWsrj9LbyZnoSXjb42y0Y2y3PyVp_8skIfcgSNLA-gJcFZe0crDWIEQJ5tvJ8hRbFYLnCoOQOc6DfIFDrl1eLUjhi__a-r1i6QjeN1aXnUk7JhjCPk2ozIIavUye1lIM9a9c5Q9M/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%203%20Publix%20lunch.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Publix lunch</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>We pulled in and laid our gear and ourselves over the entire sidewalk leading into the store. Some shoppers were miffed as they were stepping over us and weaving their buggies around our stuff, but we ... did ... not ... care. I had taken an Udi's GF bagel from the Holiday Inn to which I added turkey and muenster to it. Man, that was delicious!</p><p>Lindsey purchased a Salonpas lidocaine patch, in hopes that it would give her a little relief. But she was having difficulties in getting it to stick to her skin. She finally managed. Not sure how much it helped ... placebo effect? </p><p>15 miles of the Withlacoochee Rail Trail lay ahead of us to Dunnellon. Lisa and I took turns pulling. Towards the latter half of the trail, I had to stop and put on my rain jacket for warmth, along with inserting chemical warmers into my shoes and gloves. A combination of fatigue and dropping temperatures (mid to high 50's now) was causing me to shiver and lose feeling in my extremities. Even pushing a high gear and pulling, I could not get my core to heat up. But once I put those items on, I felt much better and my teeth stopped chattering.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVN9fnqOWcJcm4ojaNqkAwVneP8XVhdS-cuKbGIacTBBAynpbWvB6YnDj3aYKrx2J4G2L_2iqsF3IAxBed1jnQRZTZY9u2hTGzEq6z-CNTGIC6rCS1ul_z0kZpUhyphenhyphenHMhzJdeaLjDFUhK03cqBacLYDsWkPSFDVjiqMZ-qT6W4Aapq58Fyui2ajRsWfXh4/s4032/Huracan%20Day%203%20Withlacoochee%20Rail%20Trail.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVN9fnqOWcJcm4ojaNqkAwVneP8XVhdS-cuKbGIacTBBAynpbWvB6YnDj3aYKrx2J4G2L_2iqsF3IAxBed1jnQRZTZY9u2hTGzEq6z-CNTGIC6rCS1ul_z0kZpUhyphenhyphenHMhzJdeaLjDFUhK03cqBacLYDsWkPSFDVjiqMZ-qT6W4Aapq58Fyui2ajRsWfXh4/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%203%20Withlacoochee%20Rail%20Trail.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Withlacoochee Rail Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Once we hit the Dunnellon Rail Trail, the foot traffic became heavy, what with the evening walkers out and about. This was a very pretty section along here and just watching out for the people kept my focus away from the fatigue monster that was weighing heavily on my back.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbosrhVH2OaZEl3L5zdKKH4D1rJcoGS8zUzbHNolWcmeKOxbihyphenhyphenKSFuFYcYCryuEpgNASxmZaTY6ba-VZy7V3tK8kDX5jKUCyKXnOTIWkvBh8QHl0EOkCt8aROObJtZiKhJ_v4pLeKIKpl8nhTwn7sClxpxa-y7PxuHXPK7g-i-YVOZWMGM8I_ZPh19nQ/s4032/Huracan%20Day%203%20sugar%20sand%20road.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbosrhVH2OaZEl3L5zdKKH4D1rJcoGS8zUzbHNolWcmeKOxbihyphenhyphenKSFuFYcYCryuEpgNASxmZaTY6ba-VZy7V3tK8kDX5jKUCyKXnOTIWkvBh8QHl0EOkCt8aROObJtZiKhJ_v4pLeKIKpl8nhTwn7sClxpxa-y7PxuHXPK7g-i-YVOZWMGM8I_ZPh19nQ/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%203%20sugar%20sand%20road.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For The Love of God ...!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>One more nasty little stretch of plowed trail and then we popped out on the highway of Death, Hwy 484. Three shoulder less miles of cringing each time a vehicle would pass, praying that today was not my time.</p><p>We stopped at Pruitt Trailhead to use the bathroom. Not wanting to use the equine watering hole, we divvied up our remaining water and put our lights on, as it would soon be dark. We bounced along the horse trodden section eagerly looking for the Tricycle Trail. Lindsey finally had enough with her other cleat, as it would not clip in to the pedal. Turning her shoe over, it looked like someone had taken a hammer to the metal ... that was one f'kd up cleat. Fortunately she had a spare set, so we spent a few minutes changing it out.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ZDo4JzYhc9hfinRardUCAbbMaHTZ1TD6gDoOMO-86iiISBLwV9WHDgxvGVaJUhMn_-6fnY25rL1d4ahXPxC31zAD7d73U6-JdGHh7HnsP9SdVkRS9RNXAvtL2D4x-pyN9Uk_RYf8qyErAUEvHqZQib8Y7yhdM67CQyku9YitoFZZ6xbUit1lv7jHVdw/s4032/Huracan%20Day%203%20fixing%20Lindsey's%20cleat.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ZDo4JzYhc9hfinRardUCAbbMaHTZ1TD6gDoOMO-86iiISBLwV9WHDgxvGVaJUhMn_-6fnY25rL1d4ahXPxC31zAD7d73U6-JdGHh7HnsP9SdVkRS9RNXAvtL2D4x-pyN9Uk_RYf8qyErAUEvHqZQib8Y7yhdM67CQyku9YitoFZZ6xbUit1lv7jHVdw/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%203%20fixing%20Lindsey's%20cleat.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lesson learned: don't buy "Shimano" cleats on Amazon</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Once on the Tricycle Trail, I managed to find some energy. But it seems I always feel better on trail ... this is my jam. The miles easily ticked on. And then there was Razorback, in the dark. A little bit sketchy, but still fun nonetheless. And then back on Tricycle, which was getting old. I was ready to be on Ern and Burn. Finally at the end of Tricycle, I realized we had to ride Beyond West first ... OMG! I was ready to be done. And I was shivering again! We stopped and I reached in my saddle bag and pulled out my night shirt, which I threw on over my race kit and then put my rain jacket back on over that.<p></p><p>Fortunately Beyond West was just a mile, but Ern and Burn felt like an eternity. I was so cold (it was only 51 degrees), that my brain was having a hard time processing the trail. Finally I saw the sign for Shangri-La. I was smelling the barn!</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Pw56lpM19rtmYupVaUMkAljIlwH6LluVA5ihFgntbS8FPgDB6H_RKRXE3H4Up7h12GdVDd_3Asl4RFY6vSfGpzHb7aZ2ly4Yjq8GwLJLGXuu3QeerQ3D40IQzBSln7f1dc2ieCoFL1yMYEIaFa3R8ym2LA3jExBvMDt4Km5x1LuNEL0JGweduZwybnI/s4032/Huracan%20Day%203%20Shangri%20La%20Trail.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Pw56lpM19rtmYupVaUMkAljIlwH6LluVA5ihFgntbS8FPgDB6H_RKRXE3H4Up7h12GdVDd_3Asl4RFY6vSfGpzHb7aZ2ly4Yjq8GwLJLGXuu3QeerQ3D40IQzBSln7f1dc2ieCoFL1yMYEIaFa3R8ym2LA3jExBvMDt4Km5x1LuNEL0JGweduZwybnI/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%203%20Shangri%20La%20Trail.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost there!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>We reached the campground and the end of the Huracan. But we still had a 6 miles of pavement to get back to the hotel. And a closed campground gate to hoist our bikes over ... oof! This was the second sketchiest stretch of road. At night, on Hwy 484, with vehicles flying by without any concern that a human was attached to the bicycle, I prayed once again. There was a bike lane, but what good is that when debris, downed branches, and overhanging limbs are present? At least I wasn't cold, as the remaining adrenalin was coursing through my veins.</p><p>We finished our journey at 9:30 pm, once again too late to enjoy a hearty meal. But then again, we were all so exhausted, that the hunger wasn't really there. Man, what an adventure! And with two wonderfully strong, fiery, and feisty women! Lindsey is the Superhero of Suck, meaning her power is the ability to absorb all the bad luck and still keep going strong!</p><p> Lisa and Lindsey, you are the absolute best, and the entirety of our adventure, the highs, the lows, and everything in between, will not be forgotten. Loved, loved, loved it. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEZDvssWT8OQ9QfErByVXtKfO3eEZzf32Q_PbgU1wiD74XsOfRmVz8mPp0Mg507aoo9T7H0t0YK7g4dsq1C3czqYBQWTQKWmOqgH1PTVlDLfEA1pNizaITG5IJARUn8Q0r_pValVE6KVtSMdHIsIYkdPIbSJQXk-Oc6UFMfYDcu9OAQrY9nTaQC5l7jTU/s2048/IMG_1861.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEZDvssWT8OQ9QfErByVXtKfO3eEZzf32Q_PbgU1wiD74XsOfRmVz8mPp0Mg507aoo9T7H0t0YK7g4dsq1C3czqYBQWTQKWmOqgH1PTVlDLfEA1pNizaITG5IJARUn8Q0r_pValVE6KVtSMdHIsIYkdPIbSJQXk-Oc6UFMfYDcu9OAQrY9nTaQC5l7jTU/w300-h400/IMG_1861.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>And thank you Karlos, for creating this route, allowing us to pursue greatness through adversity and fellowship.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-H4Yddiwk-GX101FHRl1QtCkMYI2hhm6AVTXwTWYmjlcgDMGHp13ezaAvj6-86wFgDc4tCAxkybfrCmvG7RB_gPzs4-SjfE1PwZcsfKkeV4VYRrLEQCy0NvZHpyaFO8JWqOU_B41IuLOXEJSNTm89eULr6_3weFySha3SK_8S6WJ2s2uz3Z0s6ZahOto/s5712/Huracan%20Day%203%20Tricycle%20Trail%20live%20oak%20tree.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4284" data-original-width="5712" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-H4Yddiwk-GX101FHRl1QtCkMYI2hhm6AVTXwTWYmjlcgDMGHp13ezaAvj6-86wFgDc4tCAxkybfrCmvG7RB_gPzs4-SjfE1PwZcsfKkeV4VYRrLEQCy0NvZHpyaFO8JWqOU_B41IuLOXEJSNTm89eULr6_3weFySha3SK_8S6WJ2s2uz3Z0s6ZahOto/w400-h300/Huracan%20Day%203%20Tricycle%20Trail%20live%20oak%20tree.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Live Oak on Tricycle</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>There is already talk of another BDR 😊</p><p><br /></p><p>107 miles, 3700 feet </p><p>Elapsed time: 14:00<span> </span><span> Moving time: 11:36</span></p><p><span><br /></span></p><p><span>Total distance: 402 miles</span></p><p><span>Total elevation: 10,000 feet</span></p><p><span>Total time: 60 hours 18 minutes</span></p><p><br /></p>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-23032623187016442942024-01-31T17:19:00.001-05:002024-01-31T17:19:22.437-05:00Huracan 400 Ride Report Day 2<p> We set our alarms to wake up at 5:45 am, but our twitchy, achy bodies had us awake at 5:30 am. We moaned, we groaned, but got our stuff together and headed down to breakfast, where we made quick work of coffee, eggs, bacon, and toast.</p><p>As we got on our bikes, I believe we all winced when our nethers contacted the saddle. I was glad I applied some Boudreaux's Butt Paste as well as a pack of Chamois Butt'r. While I had no chafing or sores from yesterday, I wanted to make sure and keep it that way today. While the skin was in great shape, the sit bones were tender.</p><p>We pedaled a few miles to rejoin the route from where we left the night before. Temps were in the mid-60's and their was a slight cool breeze. Traffic was quiet, being a Saturday, and we safely rode 16 miles through the neighborhoods of Apopka before hitting the Loop Trail around the lake.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaiA_6uPH1Y7tzsYebZdi_Skcl-jXhzLKeHfLsUjp7CXz5aiJv_hx2jIABrado4UMhZVWgD5rVD-3RTLIje_jS6SLP3dng0BhHYV8YjnFb6jJ_gdlpFArot_mlId91QS0wqDsICSEOf3OtYVqSP_FrALRoi-QM-4-agJy8Fytzr-dpFQx9J6-vjxXAjF4/s4032/Huracan%20Day%202%20Lake%20Apopka%20levee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaiA_6uPH1Y7tzsYebZdi_Skcl-jXhzLKeHfLsUjp7CXz5aiJv_hx2jIABrado4UMhZVWgD5rVD-3RTLIje_jS6SLP3dng0BhHYV8YjnFb6jJ_gdlpFArot_mlId91QS0wqDsICSEOf3OtYVqSP_FrALRoi-QM-4-agJy8Fytzr-dpFQx9J6-vjxXAjF4/w400-h300/Huracan%20Day%202%20Lake%20Apopka%20levee.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Apopka ... one of my favorite sections.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>The Loop Trail was hard packed and fast. Those 21 miles went by quickly, as we had plenty of wildlife and landscape to lay eyes upon. So ... many ... gators! We finished this section with a switchback climb up Green Mountain. We stopped and walked up several flights of stairs to the overlook; I could feel the weight in my legs. At the Green Mountain Trailhead, we stopped, got water, and butt'rd our bits Even though it was from a fountain, it still tasted like beach sand.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV9rsZNBuKG5s7_iEgZ57R5w6REVYYHqmSlmLVaSBGADUjpiA5M0sA46k2Wk-VOGv8XGYFwJG8LxbYqINSFytm80cqLv2IqkNcGde3czR0wKelpO0rRw5JHok5dCKH1wJz5nwvYneVmfXLCR6sQS7MIYOX9ctVfu0vAQuCM-AFZ7lI2r7889_NFtS6T6U/s4032/Huracan%20Day%202%20Green%20Mountain%20group%20selfie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV9rsZNBuKG5s7_iEgZ57R5w6REVYYHqmSlmLVaSBGADUjpiA5M0sA46k2Wk-VOGv8XGYFwJG8LxbYqINSFytm80cqLv2IqkNcGde3czR0wKelpO0rRw5JHok5dCKH1wJz5nwvYneVmfXLCR6sQS7MIYOX9ctVfu0vAQuCM-AFZ7lI2r7889_NFtS6T6U/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%202%20Green%20Mountain%20group%20selfie.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Green Mountain Overlook</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>At mile 40 we entered the Florida Pyrenees. All on asphalt, the next 20 miles was a series of small but punchy hills. These were not rollers but steep climbs that had me saying, "I am NOT using granny, I am NOT using granny!" </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgJukXJL00QfXKH5vvniBuy6TiM7QjYzj5VPPXijGuLbP6JIC1ExaIcCISSI8Dfr4I0dB4fXXsDsBKvshT-jp8P5wyT8uKlFMxwSwuRsFoxGwpqegYKkgPWZHAhyphenhyphen2hlJjLNO1buGDmSyzpS24kxKwIBKsuBjI4pN0k8QXQtl3WIIUhssFD1ltKdaKwG0k/s3251/IMG_1876.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1074" data-original-width="3251" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgJukXJL00QfXKH5vvniBuy6TiM7QjYzj5VPPXijGuLbP6JIC1ExaIcCISSI8Dfr4I0dB4fXXsDsBKvshT-jp8P5wyT8uKlFMxwSwuRsFoxGwpqegYKkgPWZHAhyphenhyphen2hlJjLNO1buGDmSyzpS24kxKwIBKsuBjI4pN0k8QXQtl3WIIUhssFD1ltKdaKwG0k/w400-h133/IMG_1876.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Florida is not flat</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>With a tender tush, I opted to stand on these climbs and give my bits some reprieve. Oh, and a nice southerly wind kicked up during this time, which made those climbs even more challenging.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijZ4mrD-6rdCDYgu4XEp50d_P7sRbBv5H88LstBobojm0fcJFFEqLmjXsnSmNCJX3t7BRDzrKiIOK6mgArjuVy1gd9goUFlY8OMZ71eb9hfTQss8t5oM1xkMqafh8A1HjP7hTGcwoQoo_dfvW7rfVA_MJn2ZiUTCWNPRu01U4iJaeILhU7vQ0truiWFwE/s4032/Huracan%20Day%202%20Florida%20Pyrenees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijZ4mrD-6rdCDYgu4XEp50d_P7sRbBv5H88LstBobojm0fcJFFEqLmjXsnSmNCJX3t7BRDzrKiIOK6mgArjuVy1gd9goUFlY8OMZ71eb9hfTQss8t5oM1xkMqafh8A1HjP7hTGcwoQoo_dfvW7rfVA_MJn2ZiUTCWNPRu01U4iJaeILhU7vQ0truiWFwE/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%202%20Florida%20Pyrenees.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A nice little 100 foot rise along the horizon</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>After the Pyrenees, we fought a terrible headwind into Minneola. We found a Publix and stopped to eat lunch and resupply. I grabbed a banana and a King Size Snickers and PayDay. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpoqOmzajqIrgC5M2q6j8EihpBT7Gx6f50_rhXvpV-dS_x_K527DSzpfL_WrgIBwCx1rMMyMV2M8QPOXLHVMxH5Sz0Iaql66hdJjpJY3bHsK9R7A3hc8tzxhRV1HLNnr4tCP-sbNScMJ2kRYsFLg6w4X2Obo5gcWL6tSpN6TdVWYr1WiGjxdoqf86VAQ/s4032/Huracan%20Day%202%20lunch%20at%20Publix.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpoqOmzajqIrgC5M2q6j8EihpBT7Gx6f50_rhXvpV-dS_x_K527DSzpfL_WrgIBwCx1rMMyMV2M8QPOXLHVMxH5Sz0Iaql66hdJjpJY3bHsK9R7A3hc8tzxhRV1HLNnr4tCP-sbNScMJ2kRYsFLg6w4X2Obo5gcWL6tSpN6TdVWYr1WiGjxdoqf86VAQ/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%202%20lunch%20at%20Publix.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sushi!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>With full bellies, we slowly pedaled through neighborhoods fighting the winds the whole way. And it was getting hot! I was not complaining because at least the 15 mph headwind had a cooling effect. Finally we hopped on the South Lake bike path and enjoyed the views along Lake Minneola, including the beautiful old stands of live oak trees.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvHD1tdKEUHUfUjqeOBDjSd9EelXeJLSQugTYQwAgFKrNHXVha1Mk-1whqEEdzxL5zpoLiUhqjBlCdKtK2s83W3eyaC9xr0CSEn6ZqIGj8a62OtDfeWcodT7NkmvEu6_Ql_xjs5E3vFJ2vxeWgxH3SgSwZCCYE2M73gNdiWh8qQR1hRrFU3BYL9qRsYcY/s4032/Huracan%20Day%202%20Lake%20Minneola%20and%20live%20oak%20tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvHD1tdKEUHUfUjqeOBDjSd9EelXeJLSQugTYQwAgFKrNHXVha1Mk-1whqEEdzxL5zpoLiUhqjBlCdKtK2s83W3eyaC9xr0CSEn6ZqIGj8a62OtDfeWcodT7NkmvEu6_Ql_xjs5E3vFJ2vxeWgxH3SgSwZCCYE2M73gNdiWh8qQR1hRrFU3BYL9qRsYcY/w400-h300/Huracan%20Day%202%20Lake%20Minneola%20and%20live%20oak%20tree.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Minneola</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After 6 miles of paved bike path, it was another 16 miles of asphalt to the Van Fleet Trailhead. All this flat after the Pyrenees was beginning to take its toll on my lady bits; mashed and smashed is the best description for how things felt down there. Lisa and Lindsey were also having the same problem. In addition, Lindsey tweaked her knee trying to clip in her pedals. Cleats that were brand spanking new for the ride had now been ground down to a point that made insertion and removal of her shoe most difficult.<div><br /></div><div>We stopped to fill up with water at the Van Fleet Trailhead as this would be our last opportunity without filtering. But watching that gray water come out of the faucet, I began to think about filtering even that. I applied more Chamois Butt'r, but was really wanting an injection of Lidocaine into my sit bone area.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPqxTq32EsdPvghzyN1sKB0G75XWogLbuVfAdsMrZJ5xcKqtnmrUXLPpLN3cDKWvRnootnAIetUF_6Z7b7jjwPfIMW1uMLqpb56mNzA-kokpG4CIYbYgX3l7T-e_FB7WqiDbRz6zIzAU8qQM8df7m86JXJ7FzbYOhb835hHtWBEBuK1Z__yYIzs-4J0tk/s4032/Huracan%20Day%202%20Van%20Fleet%20Trailhead%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPqxTq32EsdPvghzyN1sKB0G75XWogLbuVfAdsMrZJ5xcKqtnmrUXLPpLN3cDKWvRnootnAIetUF_6Z7b7jjwPfIMW1uMLqpb56mNzA-kokpG4CIYbYgX3l7T-e_FB7WqiDbRz6zIzAU8qQM8df7m86JXJ7FzbYOhb835hHtWBEBuK1Z__yYIzs-4J0tk/w400-h300/Huracan%20Day%202%20Van%20Fleet%20Trailhead%202.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Highs for the day were in the low 80's</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>After just a short 2 miles on Van Fleet, we entered the Green Swamp. I have heard nightmares about this section: mud, water, more mud, soft double track, everything to kill your average speed. And there was 45 miles of this, according to Lisa math.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQdjqZ4CpKncLMCokhyphenhyphenH7JQPfh38Ywmfzjq-s_yHSoWyqHh9H3hH4M0aH4SiHA5uSWBaZi8a0yGtdLIB0-oqRrULiOYqJz5I6lkTKHOkJmY2n1Qsq-U63ci0TuBo3rJV7lDB4DqQyvWN9HyM3D6EM_ogSST8DQcaCK68BDSdxk9RKy4BbcoZ_iNE20968/s4032/Huracan%20Day%202%20Green%20Swamp%20double%20track%20(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQdjqZ4CpKncLMCokhyphenhyphenH7JQPfh38Ywmfzjq-s_yHSoWyqHh9H3hH4M0aH4SiHA5uSWBaZi8a0yGtdLIB0-oqRrULiOYqJz5I6lkTKHOkJmY2n1Qsq-U63ci0TuBo3rJV7lDB4DqQyvWN9HyM3D6EM_ogSST8DQcaCK68BDSdxk9RKy4BbcoZ_iNE20968/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%202%20Green%20Swamp%20double%20track%20(2).jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">beginning of Green Swamp, not too bad</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>The roads through the WMA were in extremely good shape. There were a few mud holes to skirt around, but not enough to even warrant the 🖕. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgow5RO2wyLUyx-YsojKeDwEoGn-5SFL2C81xnp8CBpNqsh_Jj4GhQnGtB3CU1WxXyaM_kdaL_uSZyguqz0fwyvAX6zYcYhDWpWklv60mV6HmGtFftaIZHk28-9ACS2Sq2hajfQ0EgjyhFiQu7oAtnpIIe9RTtJf9nfujdgaSK26iHSpIjAI7j0BR6roUs/s4032/Huracan%20Day%202%20Green%20Swamp%20Lisa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgow5RO2wyLUyx-YsojKeDwEoGn-5SFL2C81xnp8CBpNqsh_Jj4GhQnGtB3CU1WxXyaM_kdaL_uSZyguqz0fwyvAX6zYcYhDWpWklv60mV6HmGtFftaIZHk28-9ACS2Sq2hajfQ0EgjyhFiQu7oAtnpIIe9RTtJf9nfujdgaSK26iHSpIjAI7j0BR6roUs/s320/Huracan%20Day%202%20Green%20Swamp%20Lisa.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lisa was so strong through the swamp</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Lindsey really began to suffer as the miles drug on. I felt so bad for her, but there wasn't a damn thing I could do except offer encouragement. Both Lisa and I did most of the pulling through here to allow her to keep as much pressure off the knee as possible. </div><div><br /></div><div>We stopped at a small camping area just before we hit the paved Rock Ridge Road which was the most southern point through the swamp. The camp host was nice enough to give us each a bottle of cold water. The biting flies were fierce here, but I managed to pull up the route on Google and swat flies simultaneously. I think I cried a little when I realized that we were not even halfway through the swamp. I began to dislike Lisa math. </div><div><br /></div><div>As we pedaled along Rock Ridge Road, enjoying the smooth asphalt, I did a little bike math. Yep, our day was going to be a little longer than the projected 135 miles. Lisa and I chatted about our situation; we didn't have the heart to tell Lindsey who was having to a dark place to keep on chugging along. </div><div><br /></div><div>The easy spin along Rock Ridge Road ended quickly and the course turned back into the swamp along a freshly plowed section of double track. It was very chunky riding, but at least rideable: it could have been a lot worse had it not been for the moisture in the soil.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZy-ysS0ABswzWsz-KpddIhxKpE5zkdAN34Gs4O_goLHR-299TUfRgrmAnYQcUsYvakJOsNBUWy9Xn3aACiohZ1-n1OJL8VqoifXFc47unKnX5PQkAdRYi-yPCpCYrksYlfKdjGiFc9X8n11JYFM93L2OWAOw8HMtfIB5FGbm0Cr9ukzToHm5kZ9DyGTQ/s4032/Huracan%20Day%202%20Green%20Swamp%20tilled%20double%20track.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZy-ysS0ABswzWsz-KpddIhxKpE5zkdAN34Gs4O_goLHR-299TUfRgrmAnYQcUsYvakJOsNBUWy9Xn3aACiohZ1-n1OJL8VqoifXFc47unKnX5PQkAdRYi-yPCpCYrksYlfKdjGiFc9X8n11JYFM93L2OWAOw8HMtfIB5FGbm0Cr9ukzToHm5kZ9DyGTQ/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%202%20Green%20Swamp%20tilled%20double%20track.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why? For a fire break, perhaps.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>At least for Lindsey, the pain in her knee subsided when she was walking. Fortunately there was only a mile or so of this and then we were back on some better double track as the sun slowly began to set.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiPFTf8MrlpyBSYNyoaI3LbncV0C5XRcQQhbc5sE1PCU0D1d_AKZI_LEcEfJLXevkMqoeRSjc1fW4p3i5Pn4ezzlYJPN7Vc2-JhFC8oWyKhpkDGFXN3DhTXJEQ3v8CeExzdQur6O8Stx_rUFZ9qdEs5O20kEAqJUWmV6njT2ul694caJp9_nqskqaC_G8/s4032/Huracan%20Day%202%20Green%20Swamp%20double%20track.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiPFTf8MrlpyBSYNyoaI3LbncV0C5XRcQQhbc5sE1PCU0D1d_AKZI_LEcEfJLXevkMqoeRSjc1fW4p3i5Pn4ezzlYJPN7Vc2-JhFC8oWyKhpkDGFXN3DhTXJEQ3v8CeExzdQur6O8Stx_rUFZ9qdEs5O20kEAqJUWmV6njT2ul694caJp9_nqskqaC_G8/w400-h300/Huracan%20Day%202%20Green%20Swamp%20double%20track.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><p>With 30 miles left of the swamp and another 8 miles of pavement to the hotel, we trudged on as darkness enveloped us. We were all quiet at this point, seeing the opportunity for a hearty sit down meal slip away from us again. We had a moment of losing our way when we did a complete circle in sugar sand around the boy scout camp, wondering where the hell the correct road was. Upon retracing our path and looking closely at the track, I figured out that there was a single track that we were supposed to jump on. We had to go through the camp and and the trail was semi-hidden with some deadfall. Whew! I thought we had entered purgatory for a moment. And those buildings at the camp were CREEPY, as in B-movie horror film creepy. Wish I had snapped at picture of them.</p><p>After the short bit of single track, we found ourselves on a section of double track that had lots of limbs. Despite seeing the large limb in front of her and even calling it out, it latched onto her derailleur. Her derailleur/pulley cages managed to chew it up, but not before it tweaked her Transmission derailleur, which is supposed to be indestructible. While it did not snap off, it did something to her shifting causing her chain to skip in the lower gears. So now she was relegated to the highest 5-6 gears.</p><p>It was smooth sailing on Ranch Road. With miles still left to go and our water running low, Lisa approached a campsite and was greeted with two of the tallest Great Danes I have ever seen. The owner grabbed them before they attempted to jump the fence and eat us. Although a bit reluctant at first, they did give us each a bottle of water. Thanking them profusely, we went on our way.</p><p>After several miles of more double track, we turned on Meg's Hole Road. And soon enough there she was ... the hole we had to cross.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTHRL0L1UrvvkKQGBF5TWg0_IleXWXUHIiakQxm8Kv0mg-dtXTtaOM4EWjZgXZcx2N6Dz1OlTtS18cCSHv5AHplDsA2nCoTwJ3KH1ihEPYfM7yY6565BgtASlgSRhwY9IPLKrX5CseenUGc6Z_2vuTl6U6U04-rtPN8gya0q6lOQWAdxLgHZnPNMKzi9A/s4032/Huracan%20Day%202%20Meg's%20Hole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTHRL0L1UrvvkKQGBF5TWg0_IleXWXUHIiakQxm8Kv0mg-dtXTtaOM4EWjZgXZcx2N6Dz1OlTtS18cCSHv5AHplDsA2nCoTwJ3KH1ihEPYfM7yY6565BgtASlgSRhwY9IPLKrX5CseenUGc6Z_2vuTl6U6U04-rtPN8gya0q6lOQWAdxLgHZnPNMKzi9A/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%202%20Meg's%20Hole.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meg's Hole</td></tr></tbody></table><br />About 30-40 yards across, we navigated along the far right and it never got more than mid-thigh deep. The water was warm as well. After that was Lacoochee Road, which was deep with soft sand. There was a little pushing involved, but then we found where a Razor had recently gone through and followed its firm'ish tracks, eventually turning onto Graveyard Road, which was in much better shape. And we could hear civilization, meaning our ride would soon be over. The 45 miles of Green Swamp was actually closer to 60.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hitting Hwy 50, we turned on the afterburners, or at least it felt like it. There was a Winn Dixie close to the hotel, so we were trying to make it there before closing. Arriving at 9:45 pm, we were 45 minutes too late. What the heck?!? They close at 9 pm, on a Saturday? Frustrated, we headed to the hotel, checked in, showered (my lady bits 😱), and then headed to McDonald's, the only fast food restaurant open at 10:30. I got a double quarter pounder with cheese sans bun and a Coke (Eric, don't judge me, as I was hoping for better at Winn Dixie).</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4CMUczbcvymAItUTh326IM2OTRPN2-oNNGWucOcDSailumqAdrs6EvgkTemRu3JsQXxJebGr5RTuwlOvaNp7ccs_VBdfg4Sjml4_f-oeU7fcrG0eEpWYgr-gMtAQO_iipTsYvI1XPuLIYA8fNJ0_pcBwG4yjggZrdeVjJgCmVHjEt_f2E4UOlOfN-wHo/s4032/Huracan%20Day%202%20Holiday%20Inn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4CMUczbcvymAItUTh326IM2OTRPN2-oNNGWucOcDSailumqAdrs6EvgkTemRu3JsQXxJebGr5RTuwlOvaNp7ccs_VBdfg4Sjml4_f-oeU7fcrG0eEpWYgr-gMtAQO_iipTsYvI1XPuLIYA8fNJ0_pcBwG4yjggZrdeVjJgCmVHjEt_f2E4UOlOfN-wHo/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%202%20Holiday%20Inn.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bonus: we got upgraded to 2 rooms!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div> </div><div>I still managed to eat and wash our clothes and get to bed by 12:30 am, although it was a very fitful sleep, as the legs were heavy with fatigue and achy.</div><div><br /></div><div>Our 135 mile day was really 153 miles with 2900 feet of climbing. So that should mean tomorrow ought to be a short day, right? 😏 </div><div><br /></div><div>Elapsed time: 14:58<span> </span><span> Ride time: 12:56</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Here is the Strava Link: <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/10643994963/">https://www.strava.com/activities/10643994963/</a></div><div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-79609786717185320252024-01-30T19:27:00.002-05:002024-01-30T19:27:56.148-05:00Huracan 400 Ride Report -- Day 1<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-p7WsJoyUITaB92qiDtcvrZ5gqQfVlp7ac2Ykmb5yTpwdVNJbGhEoKe9ObnRIM4C_-DpjQY0_rP-KfPjKsXqtK6quJsTv1iDXWFCKXutgB1Z7NLoTPheF-fVgN3V_KKVrgLc_eHlyvRHMd8vr8zIEkhvLGDalQmt4-_q9W1YmUYNVm7k1McZd1_mic4c/s4032/Huracan%20Day%201%20Start.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-p7WsJoyUITaB92qiDtcvrZ5gqQfVlp7ac2Ykmb5yTpwdVNJbGhEoKe9ObnRIM4C_-DpjQY0_rP-KfPjKsXqtK6quJsTv1iDXWFCKXutgB1Z7NLoTPheF-fVgN3V_KKVrgLc_eHlyvRHMd8vr8zIEkhvLGDalQmt4-_q9W1YmUYNVm7k1McZd1_mic4c/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%201%20Start.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Summer kits in January!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>Our day began with a 5 am wake up call, followed by several cups of Sleep Inn coffee ... meh! After throwing the gear we would not be taking with us into my truck, I said a silent prayer that Biggie G would not be violated during our 3 day absence. We pedaled 6 miles to the start of the course, praying once again that we would not be plowed by rush our traffice ... at 6 am! </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9kXFkjYBSMaOULCtuhscehyNXB13RubtW5ZAJVo0VqQOPFNrnVpITDrQVVsjqCX2u_zCpJVbckjFhi7zTnNNYLyZc1j6X6y-sNByaVv6m6qSeJapTS00Oy9v82Jqw3nH8dXhZGmYbtnmFoF0ZI14zYR4yGY0FOXwPOU-BddAMaKPxPvTDiEiF113zTjE/s5712/Huracan%20Day%201%20Nayls%20North.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5712" data-original-width="4284" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9kXFkjYBSMaOULCtuhscehyNXB13RubtW5ZAJVo0VqQOPFNrnVpITDrQVVsjqCX2u_zCpJVbckjFhi7zTnNNYLyZc1j6X6y-sNByaVv6m6qSeJapTS00Oy9v82Jqw3nH8dXhZGmYbtnmFoF0ZI14zYR4yGY0FOXwPOU-BddAMaKPxPvTDiEiF113zTjE/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%201%20Nayls%20North.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nayls North Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>The weather was very pleasant starting out at a cool 65 degrees. Going clockwise we rode about 25 miles of Santos single track, stopping at the campground to refill our water. From there it was more single track over to Marshall Swamp. The Studebakin Trail should be renamed Rodeo, as it was very lumpy and my bike felt like a bucking bronco beneath me.</p><p>There was a beautiful paved path lead in to Marshall Swamp. The single track through the swamp I thought was in excellent shape, with a few sections of pedaling through water. We then rode a short section of the Florida Trail before dumping out onto some paved roads.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF3jImlRf7NgyiLY6x8wev3Y2KsSQphFz4DJVi_SgQKOiDNxq2H7utFQ8X685WhYjSNMvKDi0_aqVQTTE3UKO_8_oae5wvB8UkTNi2oDwqfNsMS4Ifs4k8JVltqoMxJK0fGNLzYfUzh035BuP83TbI9GxD0_-v5YQpMYhio4Ra_VvaNqlrwPtpcTmpUEg/s4032/Huracan%20Day%201%20Marshall%20Swamp%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF3jImlRf7NgyiLY6x8wev3Y2KsSQphFz4DJVi_SgQKOiDNxq2H7utFQ8X685WhYjSNMvKDi0_aqVQTTE3UKO_8_oae5wvB8UkTNi2oDwqfNsMS4Ifs4k8JVltqoMxJK0fGNLzYfUzh035BuP83TbI9GxD0_-v5YQpMYhio4Ra_VvaNqlrwPtpcTmpUEg/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%201%20Marshall%20Swamp%202.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marshall Swamp<br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaWvM3dwMDosdH_zTbqrzx6BlcAu8izszUsiz949dC4lq1I7-U22n5Pd7wsL038wb4VwNlrKIjURok0KDOmIEIkjsKOvwGSo18xqRPHXDAVWZSNkpO9EbKkzSDz043oWKnM0z4-exSy4hImcDC2A713a-kELvi7jWy97qG1EW7qgC9un3XCGphWH9Jwg/s4032/Huracan%20Day%201%20Marshall%20Swamp%204%20selfie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaWvM3dwMDosdH_zTbqrzx6BlcAu8izszUsiz949dC4lq1I7-U22n5Pd7wsL038wb4VwNlrKIjURok0KDOmIEIkjsKOvwGSo18xqRPHXDAVWZSNkpO9EbKkzSDz043oWKnM0z4-exSy4hImcDC2A713a-kELvi7jWy97qG1EW7qgC9un3XCGphWH9Jwg/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%201%20Marshall%20Swamp%204%20selfie.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marshall Swamp<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p>At 54 miles into the ride, we stopped at the Solid Rock Church (mile 48 on the course) to filter water from the spigot (said non-potable). I dropped an electolyte tab into my bottles, but it still tasted like ocean sand. Soon after that stop, we rode some beautiful limestone roads, only encountering a brief stretch of sugar sand. It was easily rideable as it still contained some moisture from last night's rains.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBOk-AH9AnLuMI1O3_43WgR_jOOsh-vbDXhqHbmowvm9j9jVapNvcCtExSfRiHBalnaRMlIBuTnLAnTsSXYsJucEz3s3PYp432oiqnkRvTO6GnnyA-PN5DwSxRANPcLlwQr9DHwwb1F77PdVE0KnDkxr6n1m9AASCWltYhJBjpsFS2cCvgEEWhDC8vZQ/s4032/Huracan%20Day%201%20limestone%20road%20before%20Ghost%20Trail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBOk-AH9AnLuMI1O3_43WgR_jOOsh-vbDXhqHbmowvm9j9jVapNvcCtExSfRiHBalnaRMlIBuTnLAnTsSXYsJucEz3s3PYp432oiqnkRvTO6GnnyA-PN5DwSxRANPcLlwQr9DHwwb1F77PdVE0KnDkxr6n1m9AASCWltYhJBjpsFS2cCvgEEWhDC8vZQ/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%201%20limestone%20road%20before%20Ghost%20Trail.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fast as asphalt</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgcYL_WFf7GtOOz93q1DuZ2OtiLruafMfhTYEKz0bBEHDxMftECYMT3aKU727BL8fbYGLktXAXqsNtWuTclA4CBNn2BJ8w1VIVqWf1hz4Ir-oImF4N_k3yiYJLcT9FR7F4t0SEnOwsrlK5cC8eBI_VCKb_zlELPd9ROX_X68zKG2TuD48S5jlzZ6TtIi0/s4032/Huracan%20Day%201%20sugar%20sand%20before%20Ghost%20Trail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgcYL_WFf7GtOOz93q1DuZ2OtiLruafMfhTYEKz0bBEHDxMftECYMT3aKU727BL8fbYGLktXAXqsNtWuTclA4CBNn2BJ8w1VIVqWf1hz4Ir-oImF4N_k3yiYJLcT9FR7F4t0SEnOwsrlK5cC8eBI_VCKb_zlELPd9ROX_X68zKG2TuD48S5jlzZ6TtIi0/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%201%20sugar%20sand%20before%20Ghost%20Trail.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not as bad as it looks</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>We entered the Ghost Trail at mile 69 (mile 63 on the course). 3.5 miles of trail that was either covered in blow downs or overgrown with grass. This trail skirted around the northwestern section of Farles Lake. The views were eye candy! The water was down, so we were able to skirt around the fallen trees and ride close to the waters' edge, where the dirt was firm and the grasses shorter</p><p>.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRLZpUxG1IWfepJq1phA6Srhq5FvQHDctUsM5e6KYN3ep9QFff1sJET2WT6gcdffwh53vIoFZreRcUCl2felCcHW_IFGcgdnwGlz8DuW4F6qoPPUkntsN6OozCX_-9M_zf4ZQgV1iaDHnOwgNM7_pV0zDM6ariIubhnziStTkAlVqUK6rhtBptQKzbDHU/s4032/Huracan%20Day%201%20Ghost%20Trail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRLZpUxG1IWfepJq1phA6Srhq5FvQHDctUsM5e6KYN3ep9QFff1sJET2WT6gcdffwh53vIoFZreRcUCl2felCcHW_IFGcgdnwGlz8DuW4F6qoPPUkntsN6OozCX_-9M_zf4ZQgV1iaDHnOwgNM7_pV0zDM6ariIubhnziStTkAlVqUK6rhtBptQKzbDHU/w400-h300/Huracan%20Day%201%20Ghost%20Trail.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ghost Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjePp6wIoB0nG2Dedl6RLs7Yhw_pDZKXgLOewK0Unez3hbll762Njz0MI8FhxOijNa8dGcKojz83CoULOXQijqY0qt732Tde3mayYrXUQI5PSScZb6CVUO6-fgUug4F8gNHulWRA50fNdqgTSuDzmdF3tLY-lLcN-0G6HIXOinPElN8z9cncTFrn7U_Dsw/s4032/Huracan%20Day%201%20Ghost%20Trail%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjePp6wIoB0nG2Dedl6RLs7Yhw_pDZKXgLOewK0Unez3hbll762Njz0MI8FhxOijNa8dGcKojz83CoULOXQijqY0qt732Tde3mayYrXUQI5PSScZb6CVUO6-fgUug4F8gNHulWRA50fNdqgTSuDzmdF3tLY-lLcN-0G6HIXOinPElN8z9cncTFrn7U_Dsw/w400-h300/Huracan%20Day%201%20Ghost%20Trail%202.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ghost Trail<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>As our water was running low, we stopped at Farles Lake Recreation Area. The water pump was broken, so we filtered water from the lake. That was the best tasting water of the whole ride! The heat of the day was now upon us (82 degrees). I thought I had been drinking enough, but started getting a head ache, so I took a couple of extra strength Tylenol.<div><br /></div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqHClseNj0LI-4aj2IWUYx2xHFM57gORbdQJTQfbMByR-jiFDIjCq15Lid2cxzc3DOh4dO0ONCNlnayvimVt1vOusIYB1zWOrT3IZe8M216cdcOwNxoIss2MkRlYIjXHWUXv3WWmqdn3RMi3SKSw9Q3Neg1PqkT1-oBfUYTD30jlqLkqnkeM4sxR5hcaw/s4032/Huracan%20Day%201%20Farles%20Lake%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqHClseNj0LI-4aj2IWUYx2xHFM57gORbdQJTQfbMByR-jiFDIjCq15Lid2cxzc3DOh4dO0ONCNlnayvimVt1vOusIYB1zWOrT3IZe8M216cdcOwNxoIss2MkRlYIjXHWUXv3WWmqdn3RMi3SKSw9Q3Neg1PqkT1-oBfUYTD30jlqLkqnkeM4sxR5hcaw/w400-h300/Huracan%20Day%201%20Farles%20Lake%202.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Farles Lake</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>More miles of limestone and pavement brought us to the Paisley Mountain Bike Trail: 11 miles of open, flowy, and hardpacked sand/dirt which was very similar to Croom. I was ready to be done by the 7th mile as it was getting redundant and I was low on food. Fortunately, the town of Paisley was just a few miles beyond the end of that single track. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYbxUuXtwDZdtgeqFvrNf3zkUWXYnHNN3OBD1dilHcdqWj4DQA2KtR0k5oJLII_ssfUfuz5gvLyTBkdNqtQLCsYsadJNbo_7j7md_CutpEpP4eL-MyRh7-_GgZvxj0cffxaElCt7Gi5oiY94Rq3anmkTpHUJkLUELWgrBiZ6CEv_hbL6hJTAo_jTVFv-4/s4032/Huracan%20Day%201%20Paisley%20C-store.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYbxUuXtwDZdtgeqFvrNf3zkUWXYnHNN3OBD1dilHcdqWj4DQA2KtR0k5oJLII_ssfUfuz5gvLyTBkdNqtQLCsYsadJNbo_7j7md_CutpEpP4eL-MyRh7-_GgZvxj0cffxaElCt7Gi5oiY94Rq3anmkTpHUJkLUELWgrBiZ6CEv_hbL6hJTAo_jTVFv-4/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%201%20Paisley%20C-store.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slim pickens for me</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>Lisa and Lindsey headed inside while I watched our bikes. There was a sketchy dude on a clapped out Specialized CrossTrail that pulled in just as they went inside. Glad I opted to be watch dog because I could see this dude eyeing our bikes pretty hard. He didn't seem like the serial killer type so I talked to him and tried to tighten his handle bar, but the bolts were completely stripped.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZaow6aDgGCWQXAx7kuAiLlnoNBzJzSt82AgObOORLu2Xf8ge7HGJKUtZQGjDIktsTtJy74h-b0yD9ZNSn5lmuGE9bPjiEQ_PXXn3JdGIPnC9G8062E4CeX-PRcEkhea6-6aB0WW9aFRELeIuGvoftcnaP93CEKLo0Mkb_ZrXXrWWdhE-40As5oRHjMks/s4032/Huracan%20Day%201%20town%20of%20Paisley%20C-store%20resupply.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZaow6aDgGCWQXAx7kuAiLlnoNBzJzSt82AgObOORLu2Xf8ge7HGJKUtZQGjDIktsTtJy74h-b0yD9ZNSn5lmuGE9bPjiEQ_PXXn3JdGIPnC9G8062E4CeX-PRcEkhea6-6aB0WW9aFRELeIuGvoftcnaP93CEKLo0Mkb_ZrXXrWWdhE-40As5oRHjMks/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%201%20town%20of%20Paisley%20C-store%20resupply.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I made due: 1100 calories</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>Leaving Paisley, we encountered Maggie Jones Road, of which I have heard nightmares. Today we won the lottery, as it was hard packed and fast! </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTj1LR-Ba0auefhNkqP0zJpnWkPAkZ1OA8GABMuPgYMU3vkJOjh9lHXxIDcB6qMPQgArtU87Vz4whnG0AnyNJcqelSEUa7A0V0pa_zGtF6yOjSczYmqq3BBesiPPBtO29kl74Q0kX5wenWwPfy36ZRl_dDcxHFRJl2mZn4FAAF8oIoUAHxPjOEZUgxit4/s4032/Huracan%20Day%201%20gopher%20tortoise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTj1LR-Ba0auefhNkqP0zJpnWkPAkZ1OA8GABMuPgYMU3vkJOjh9lHXxIDcB6qMPQgArtU87Vz4whnG0AnyNJcqelSEUa7A0V0pa_zGtF6yOjSczYmqq3BBesiPPBtO29kl74Q0kX5wenWwPfy36ZRl_dDcxHFRJl2mZn4FAAF8oIoUAHxPjOEZUgxit4/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%201%20gopher%20tortoise.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gopher tortoise on Maggie Jones</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>More fast pavement took us to Seminole State Forest. Here, we were supposed to pay a day use fee of $2. I had brought plenty of dollar bills to deposit at the pay station, but you had to use your phone to pay online. After 10 minutes of attempts, including the website locking up on me, I said, "Fuck it, this is ridiculous!" Even though I was not in racing mode, I did not want to waste precious minutes of daylight. I wanted to just drop $2 on the ground and go. (I later paid online, when I got back home and could do it without any stress.)</div><div><br /></div><div>The roads through Seminole State Forest were beautiful. The sun was beginning to set, temperature was cooling down, my headache was gone, and the King Size Snickers was in my belly.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjciWH_efQCBSVtS1W4P3VWOt-z8FbhXtsDBSnoBSV8cN8q775_AuwGDPyQ3LPAaqD9nx_qZsklqBurE0mhOPWm2PWnDjcX3Dc30ThZBjy4DDn00x2dxYrFFYJCqZSHrkwbiJifWyT9yUBg6VYp5U8XOGmXXXhu0sEHVsJIkT3qbDozbDtgm0yATUTO13A/s4032/Huracan%20Day%201%20Seminole%20State%20Forest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjciWH_efQCBSVtS1W4P3VWOt-z8FbhXtsDBSnoBSV8cN8q775_AuwGDPyQ3LPAaqD9nx_qZsklqBurE0mhOPWm2PWnDjcX3Dc30ThZBjy4DDn00x2dxYrFFYJCqZSHrkwbiJifWyT9yUBg6VYp5U8XOGmXXXhu0sEHVsJIkT3qbDozbDtgm0yATUTO13A/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%201%20Seminole%20State%20Forest.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seminole State Forest</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Rock Springs Run was 8 miles of hell! It started out with firm double track which soon became swampy with many boggy areas that involved pushing through or around deep water. And then night fell. </div><div><br /></div><div>There was a short section of GPS track that had us deviating off the double track. We quickly decided to follow the shit road we were on instead of bushwhacking deeper into hell. That cost us a few minutes and some tears. And then there was the Challenge Trail, aptly named not due to technical features, but because that it was completely overgrown with underbrush. Our poor bikes and legs were lashed almost to death. I kept getting small sticks and vines wrapped around my cassette. Our bike derailleurs were lucky to have survived.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3h7aRat8auRtZ6jhHvtlZuufc_36KIAABpbiNKnF0ruYOiRv9TNnHmHfkhqHpgHrn01vf3oOxtfWTFfGCXljQldUGslbEMgYhqjB2yg1QWAEP-cqw7l1i5JqNvhMNhq1VJ0lLIBKD_9bBbIg4AhzJWn6iKW09Z5vfLteRT2gzL7O_dMWdxd8W4TIAo2A/s2048/Huracan%20Day%201%20Challenge%20Trail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3h7aRat8auRtZ6jhHvtlZuufc_36KIAABpbiNKnF0ruYOiRv9TNnHmHfkhqHpgHrn01vf3oOxtfWTFfGCXljQldUGslbEMgYhqjB2yg1QWAEP-cqw7l1i5JqNvhMNhq1VJ0lLIBKD_9bBbIg4AhzJWn6iKW09Z5vfLteRT2gzL7O_dMWdxd8W4TIAo2A/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%201%20Challenge%20Trail.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What trail!?!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>At 8 pm and 128 miles (122 miles on the course), we made it to the short rogue trail down to the Wekiwa River crossing. I was glad I had watched a few YouTube videos on daylight crossings. While Lindsey and Lisa were hem hawing, I saw the little strip of water on the opposite side, hoisted my bike on my back, and began the 40+ yard journey. The water, being spring fed was warm, and it got no deepper than just above my belly button. I could hear Lisa behind me as she began the crossing, telling me not to get any pictures as she was naked from the waist down. As I made it to the other side, I could hear Lisa saying, "Where's the line? It's tits deep!" I was laughing so hard, I had a hard time getting my phone out to take a photo or two.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidWsbtKwqK_HpxtdCts41_Rtq2PHsRoI4hf89CoBQQj6q5rzq9Oq1RAVkdyZ-T1PHz0OE67wWUTx7fc6LPRjfRY9heNvOnfKQ9mCg8CD4PGDrtFY8SSXMAi5kN5gcGTBHKWU0mitON4P-VZkm0cUFrlquHLguRFwvvF3hAjiNC1PH1_xnJ9zrigBOgRpU/s4032/Huracan%20Day%201%20Wekiwa%20River%20Crossing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidWsbtKwqK_HpxtdCts41_Rtq2PHsRoI4hf89CoBQQj6q5rzq9Oq1RAVkdyZ-T1PHz0OE67wWUTx7fc6LPRjfRY9heNvOnfKQ9mCg8CD4PGDrtFY8SSXMAi5kN5gcGTBHKWU0mitON4P-VZkm0cUFrlquHLguRFwvvF3hAjiNC1PH1_xnJ9zrigBOgRpU/w300-h400/Huracan%20Day%201%20Wekiwa%20River%20Crossing.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have finished my crossing and this shows the long approach up the little inlet to the boat launch.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGaNjFyLj6b2shdw7Ut92Ueo31INgzTuQ1__QqddVBbAoHclc0u4PjVxChD8319HDe-RjGzJd2GEqsv7aPA6X_hj9hNScXA5h-WETArHfYnAtoZ_YHFkOS4tFDbzOI-H2DoDDD7TVa1rvhdppm50anRV1L37bkYG27XNh196h5mAex4C0XPX0deAL8lrA/s4032/IMG_1733.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGaNjFyLj6b2shdw7Ut92Ueo31INgzTuQ1__QqddVBbAoHclc0u4PjVxChD8319HDe-RjGzJd2GEqsv7aPA6X_hj9hNScXA5h-WETArHfYnAtoZ_YHFkOS4tFDbzOI-H2DoDDD7TVa1rvhdppm50anRV1L37bkYG27XNh196h5mAex4C0XPX0deAL8lrA/w300-h400/IMG_1733.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The light in the distance is Lisa and Lindsey</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Even though Lisa took off her shorts to keep them from getting wet, she still managed to get them soaked. We took a few minutes to gather ourselves while Lisa got dressed, and then began riding up the road. Just around the corner no more than 30 yards from where we had crossed, were some campers around a fire. They were probably caught off guard a little, seeing and hearing us 😂😂😂 coming out of nowhere ... on bikes. We got a good belly laugh out of that!</div><div><br /></div><div>We were now in Wekiwa Springs State Park on 8 miles of wide single track. Heading out of the state park, it was now almost 9 pm. We made a mad dash to the Publix on Wekiva Springs Road, but they had just closed when we arrived. So then we went to the Publix on Hunt Club Blvd, as we found out they stayed open until 10 pm. Here we grabbed some subs and bike food for Day 2. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNiLiNuLxz57ggJaXJoJr4Sktbc69YG_3714hjaxVeRVA3FpARpPvUB7-03IfCLGWd1dihhmy0cIwEOuW5uH9w7YkeMeqcsKiQVlwn0EKh_RXzAnVX7oKJ24NsvADK49sfLaPQy8B5oUKMx82kCIrOa1puu1uN1vLlpl8uL822kG06f5rCAYEpeZEdkQ/s4032/IMG_1736.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNiLiNuLxz57ggJaXJoJr4Sktbc69YG_3714hjaxVeRVA3FpARpPvUB7-03IfCLGWd1dihhmy0cIwEOuW5uH9w7YkeMeqcsKiQVlwn0EKh_RXzAnVX7oKJ24NsvADK49sfLaPQy8B5oUKMx82kCIrOa1puu1uN1vLlpl8uL822kG06f5rCAYEpeZEdkQ/w300-h400/IMG_1736.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Needless to say, we got some strange looks.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>We ended up rolling in to the Holiday Inn around 10 pm. I was able to shower, eat, do a load of laundry, stretch, clean/relube the chain, and get to bed by 12:15am. Man, what a day!</div><div><br /></div><div>141 miles total, 131 miles on course, 3500 feet of gain, elapsed time 15:41, moving time 13:50.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here is my Strava: <a href="https://www.strava.com/activities/10636817418">https://www.strava.com/activities/10636817418</a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-72223124983716017782024-01-01T12:15:00.001-05:002024-01-01T12:15:30.936-05:00Thankful to continue the crazy in 2024<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjNWgUb6y0S1KIwQBPtMdbjY7TDa04n4Oo2WNcgqYE7dghEbdfrCUCTL3FdAPAkR-_3Obbe3WXoSd2RmpmuC-tXkBCJlEbsWBD8RmxnzCu_5pc_6oQIvetWa5rTtx8obp7vKmHh9JngsylEgPwUL2k2HkG-bMZ9Z8xTDoALGbviqPVb8CaJV_4pLGOt8/s4032/New%20Year%20Ruck%20Run%20(2).jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjNWgUb6y0S1KIwQBPtMdbjY7TDa04n4Oo2WNcgqYE7dghEbdfrCUCTL3FdAPAkR-_3Obbe3WXoSd2RmpmuC-tXkBCJlEbsWBD8RmxnzCu_5pc_6oQIvetWa5rTtx8obp7vKmHh9JngsylEgPwUL2k2HkG-bMZ9Z8xTDoALGbviqPVb8CaJV_4pLGOt8/w300-h400/New%20Year%20Ruck%20Run%20(2).jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>While most people were in bed with angry livers, Honcho and I elected to ring in the New Year with a sunrise ruck run on the Eureka Trail. The 2 1/2 hours it took me to run 12 miles with a 20 pound pack allowed me to reflect back upon 2023.</p><p>Last year was filled with challenges, mostly self-induced, but a few unexpected ones. I am happy to report that I survived and thrived through them all, save for one. This last one, which I am still trying to figure out, has been a "thorn in my side" for the past 6 weeks, more of a fitness issue, but one that I will eventually conquer.</p><p>I have so much to be thankful for. Most of my training is solo, and while I do enjoy the "me" time, I do long for others to share in the experience of pushing the body and mind. I am fortunate to have Lisa Randall, John Switow, David Jolin, Zeke Lilly, Melissa Cooper, and Scott Morman share in my passion for all day adventures.</p><p>I am grateful for the amazing work family at The Animal Clinic. This year was our first under the corporate umbrella of VetCor. While we were all a bit skeptical of how working for a corporation would go, I would call it 100% success! I have never seen our morale higher, despite a chaotic workload and a fair share of crochety clients. I want to personally thank Mark Workman, the previous owner, and my mentor for the past 38 years, who, during the sale of the clinic, got me full time benefits (I work part-time). </p><p>I have to pinch myself when I think of my bike sponsors, most of who have supported me for over 10 years. </p><p>David Coulter, owner of Scott's Bikes, took me under his wing, when my LBS went out of business in 2017. This bike shop has been a family owned business for 30 years, has weathered a lot of tough times, but with exceptional service and smiling faces, has pulled through, while many LBS's have gone under.</p><p>Industry 9 has kept "the kids" in shoes since 2013.</p><p>Christopher Bean Coffee has energized my mornings since 2015.</p><p>Chamois Butt'r has provided love for my bits since 2009.</p><p>Endless Bikes has SSupported me since 2012, with their beautifully durable cogs and chain rings.</p><p>Trucker Co has been keeping the tires full and the brakes worky worky with their sealant and pads since 2017.</p><p>I am happy to report that I will be in the Rescue Racing kit once again in 2024. </p><p><br /></p><p>And to Charlie and Carly, thank you for attempting to understand and allowing me to do these things that most people would call crazy. But I LIVE for CRAZY!</p><p><br /></p>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-46207649403311053492023-11-24T16:58:00.002-05:002023-11-24T16:58:43.082-05:00Aspirations Over Limitations<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqjDLxzMRxQITAN6wQ7vFUTsL6vXLvZpuo-lJopG102ghL7U5YnvDSu092pcBN7vtVAsMtVLCgI3kqzCKPVfteMMf1_6A18FIDq4w2xxEM0Grf3pKjsl1S1Ag_lRbMhikIGDrGlk0KOweYoe9UieBURtFHtrk7hZ9epXekU8KKzsnz30Ct75lrD2_btJI/s1080/IMG_1360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1058" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqjDLxzMRxQITAN6wQ7vFUTsL6vXLvZpuo-lJopG102ghL7U5YnvDSu092pcBN7vtVAsMtVLCgI3kqzCKPVfteMMf1_6A18FIDq4w2xxEM0Grf3pKjsl1S1Ag_lRbMhikIGDrGlk0KOweYoe9UieBURtFHtrk7hZ9epXekU8KKzsnz30Ct75lrD2_btJI/s320/IMG_1360.jpg" width="313" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Tis the time of the year when I start planning 2024 adventures. There will be those that I will do again because of the fun factor, tradition, or redemption (PMBAR, Marji Gesick, Snake Creek Gap TT, War Daddy). As long as I put in the training, show up to the starting line, and my bike doesn't break, I will finish it.</p><p>The past couple of weeks, I had been thinking about an event that could top Marji Gesick on a single speed or the Death March Revival YoYo.</p><p>I wanted to find one that terrifies me. Not in the scared I am going to die sort of way, but that puts me out of my comfort zone, where failure lurks around the corner, challenging both my physical and mental fortitude. And then Lisa texted me Thanksgiving morning.</p><p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh514xUkmh09cO9NVhzDXHElCXqr4hx4GPhd3OWZIheToYIe9Av50bSgHZ58U4uQsXOIsOBio8LQpBmsYwTB3FXwLUZQdwOl1s8HOhe5MXIDSrtA_13oAVJWUMamF5peHXflTCFDE5p0WUWRXULzLb74aVPZxBRi_MTT3v7rvd4Dmoe1fICjeqn1jsGcyE/s1624/IMG_1362.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1624" data-original-width="1170" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh514xUkmh09cO9NVhzDXHElCXqr4hx4GPhd3OWZIheToYIe9Av50bSgHZ58U4uQsXOIsOBio8LQpBmsYwTB3FXwLUZQdwOl1s8HOhe5MXIDSrtA_13oAVJWUMamF5peHXflTCFDE5p0WUWRXULzLb74aVPZxBRi_MTT3v7rvd4Dmoe1fICjeqn1jsGcyE/w289-h400/IMG_1362.jpg" width="289" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>I answered her before I had the chance to process the enormity of this adventure, because I felt that if I let that question linger for longer than few minutes, the monkey in my brain would give me all sorts of reasons not to do it.</p><p>And so, I will be teaming up with one of our nation's best female adventure racer for the <a href="https://www.argeorgia.com/seatosea">Warrior Sea To Sea Expedition Race</a> in Florida in February of 2024. The race starts on the west coast and ends at Saint Augustine on the east coast, and according to the website, covers 300 miles. Jeff, the race director, is notorious for doing "Todd math," as last year's event covered 340 miles ... oh, brother!</p><p>Lisa Randall is a beast when it comes to adventure racing. She has competed nationally on elite level teams as well as capturing the title of solo adventure racing champion the past two years. Last March, I tagged along as her team mate at the Oak Mountain 10 Hour Adventure Race. This was my first adventure race and it was so much fun. But I didn't have to do any navigating. It was amazing to see her in action! How she was able to navigate while bushwhacking at significant speed as well as on the bike was mind-blowing!</p><p>During this year's race, there will be an orienteering relay section, where two members of each team (a team can be 2-4 people) will have to navigate alone. <i>And I did not realize this until I started reading about the race details. </i>This is the part that scares me! I am a newbie to orienteering. Yes, I was in the military, but any compass-type nav skills I learned 30 years ago were deleted from memory 28 years ago. </p><p>My fear of failure is that I don't want to let Lisa down and look like a fool fumbling through the woods trying to find checkpoints. I was hoping that I could be a great team member by being the best mule ever, while Lisa did the nav. </p><p>But if the race doesn't challenge you, then what is the point of doing it? So I have got two months to buckle down and figure this map and compass thing out. The test shouldn't be too too hard, if I do the homework, right? </p><p>Sometimes I wonder why Lisa asked me to do this, when there are other more capable adventure racers out there. But, I am glad she did, I think. She has been there to shove me into the deep end more than once, which has allowed me to grow as an athlete and as a person.</p><p>I just hope that, once on the other side of this adventure, I can look back and wonder why I was so worried. Or perhaps that I should have been more concerned about the 75+ miles of trekking and 75+ miles of paddling. And alligators ...😆</p><p><br /></p>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-13989821854564748272023-11-18T17:18:00.000-05:002023-11-18T17:18:23.428-05:00Dirty Duathlon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzzgBRDaGd0jQJhIAlwi_uY5u2JLmv0NMTPqNelrCfZ6DJ9vI48j_OdtvoRTLIsA0YyphbMU-Uu3QArprrgS32KxGtx38ORu1XCWzXaYIqc5KXJFNv7Ayv-0yTUMFII1PLA6kS_FF7bBFKyLi5ERNni9Pqfuse9QUVyyZfWk1dpjj3nmqF_8wsDDTAdmc/s1405/Dirty%20Duathlon%20T-shirt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1386" data-original-width="1405" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzzgBRDaGd0jQJhIAlwi_uY5u2JLmv0NMTPqNelrCfZ6DJ9vI48j_OdtvoRTLIsA0YyphbMU-Uu3QArprrgS32KxGtx38ORu1XCWzXaYIqc5KXJFNv7Ayv-0yTUMFII1PLA6kS_FF7bBFKyLi5ERNni9Pqfuse9QUVyyZfWk1dpjj3nmqF_8wsDDTAdmc/s320/Dirty%20Duathlon%20T-shirt.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>I have done this race four times now: twice solo and now twice as a duo, with me doing the bike portions. For this edition, Lisa Randall, was going to do the 5k run in between the two 5.5 mile bike legs. I must say I am absolutely amazed and inspired what Lisa is capable of. Every year, despite doing a great portion of the course work prior (including leaf blowing the trails and signing them), along with her usual race director duties that seem to be non-stop the week of, she also manages to have the strength and time to do the race itself. Me, on the other hand, gets to take it easy leading up to the event, and still struggles with the high intensity effort that comes with this course. </p><p>The race takes place at Rope Mill park in Woodstock, Georgia. The course consists of biking the Mill Trails, running the Explorer trails, and then finishing it up with another bike on the Avalanche Trails.</p><p>After having no rain in the month prior, it rained, the day before, the night before, and the morning of. I have not ridden in the mud, save for Gravel Worlds, all year. And Gravel Worlds was essentially just holding a straight line, while this course was twisty turny. </p><p>Lisa signed us up in the Coed Expert category, which allows either male/female or female/female. We would be up against Lisa's daughter Jayden and her teammate who runs high school cross country, as well as some other fast kids. Good Lord, what was she thinking?!? </p><p>It was a drizzly 50 degrees at the start. Lisa repeatedly reminded each wave to take it easy going across the bridge to enter the single track. My wave consisted of my division as well as the duo Expert Men. Needless to say, I was the LAST to enter the single track. My mind was telling my body go, go, go! But my body was saying WTF?!? It hadn't gone 0 to 60 all year, so the legs and lungs were on fire!</p><p>I slowly watched the leaders get out of eyesight. I struggled up that first 0.3mile climb. It wasn't until I was about halfway through this lap, that my legs finally came around. They actually felt better when I was able to stand and hammer up a climb as opposed to seated pedaling. Towards the end, I was able to catch back up and pass two in my wave.</p><p>I bombed back down to the transition area, dismounted, ran through the creek, and tagged Lisa. Jayden looked like she had been there awhile; her heart rate probably had already settled back down. I slowly cooled down, but tried to keep the legs ready with some squats and high knees.</p><p>Lisa set a blistering pace and came through, as she predicted, 26 minutes later. She had passed Kim Moore and gave me some breathing room. I was not sure what place we were in at that moment, but thinking 4th or 5th. I took off toward the Avalanche Trail. Some yea-hoo got all stupid next to me, about taking me out as we approached the single track. I slowed up and let him on by; should not have done that, as it made me struggle up the slippery rocks and almost did not clean that hard left switchback.</p><p>That first climb up Avalanche was a grunt! But at least now, my rain/mud skills were there and it did not feel as slick here. Even the roots were not bad. I went as hard as I could, knowing Kevin Crowe, Kim's team mate, would be looking to mow me down. About two thirds of the way through I caught a glimpse of him. And at that point I was NOT feeling good; the legs were filled with lead. I could hear him gaining and was hoping he would just put me out of my misery. He finally caught up to me with about a mile to go. Well, shit! Now I had to at least try to stay ahead of him. My rear wheel slipped on a tricky rooty climb, causing me to dab, and Kevin to dismount.</p><p>I managed to get a gap on him and gave one last big push, legs screaming and lungs burning. Just ... get ... to ... the ... descent! The rooty section just before that I had bobbled on during the pre ride, I cleaned it with perfection! I saw the turn onto the descent and sent it!</p><p>I hit the finishing arch, with just 4 seconds to spare. Lisa told me we got third! Hallelujah! I believe my new mantra is "will not stop." I was glad to have dug deep and gave a final kick to the finish, whereas just prior to that, I was almost willing to slow down and just let Kevin make the pass.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi20bU3HYR-kB4Ps3gzka32y8pPjqHeeCEC6Nke02QeEkuBIumwWHx84Moop585U1qaLNF4ftKlYSDDST5c88EDmolOji2pp9OdRfMo_jIiKuAi2kUfuXUVsleMRQcEBALJmq1ehpEZ7856XfwzrNl_Qyj-6i42byLJgRjjdxVaJNYb8t9mVqbGlWlz-g0/s4032/Dirty%20Duathlon%20dirty%20bike%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi20bU3HYR-kB4Ps3gzka32y8pPjqHeeCEC6Nke02QeEkuBIumwWHx84Moop585U1qaLNF4ftKlYSDDST5c88EDmolOji2pp9OdRfMo_jIiKuAi2kUfuXUVsleMRQcEBALJmq1ehpEZ7856XfwzrNl_Qyj-6i42byLJgRjjdxVaJNYb8t9mVqbGlWlz-g0/w400-h300/Dirty%20Duathlon%20dirty%20bike%202.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Jayden and her team mate laid down a fast time and took first! That kid has turned into a skilled little demon on wheels. </p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxY3UZjwDaK08pap-F-nCOa5FMeRM4_KIZyDITR1dvIXo-3qWY_bDMQB3RHq760GmcQvD4EQqlQdlR47FXZMnJFQEm68PtglvasfR063pyZQ4p7-GLp76J8pQ_O73SD6Mt8GfzOolmgUYEZ-TZrRlbdpb8EyIFnAbD4vXHdyxOZfYcLsitWLIEKiyGviM/s3383/IMG_7821.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="3383" data-original-width="2582" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxY3UZjwDaK08pap-F-nCOa5FMeRM4_KIZyDITR1dvIXo-3qWY_bDMQB3RHq760GmcQvD4EQqlQdlR47FXZMnJFQEm68PtglvasfR063pyZQ4p7-GLp76J8pQ_O73SD6Mt8GfzOolmgUYEZ-TZrRlbdpb8EyIFnAbD4vXHdyxOZfYcLsitWLIEKiyGviM/w305-h400/IMG_7821.jpg" width="305" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-61410279959323057812023-10-29T13:10:00.003-04:002023-10-29T13:10:27.389-04:00Tellico Highlands ITT <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijPyaZLt_ga3b7fupEjnOZ9YsXAYZWgz9zsfrFWI63GtpwcJGSqTYmvdmpK233qw8N0LNqt3a2Qm4i5gFpJznQ95dkDiYx23Z5zPqRRXmsEvO7awdTN3jz5Vc38pWP9pqFbGwzfqf3uKQVYor3WvPWKO8tPw2DGgDwX4IKxaPJjgfctAAPAkVsvXFjQKA/s4032/Tellico%20Highlands%20ITT%20--%20North%20River%20Road%20Poppin'.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijPyaZLt_ga3b7fupEjnOZ9YsXAYZWgz9zsfrFWI63GtpwcJGSqTYmvdmpK233qw8N0LNqt3a2Qm4i5gFpJznQ95dkDiYx23Z5zPqRRXmsEvO7awdTN3jz5Vc38pWP9pqFbGwzfqf3uKQVYor3WvPWKO8tPw2DGgDwX4IKxaPJjgfctAAPAkVsvXFjQKA/w400-h300/Tellico%20Highlands%20ITT%20--%20North%20River%20Road%20Poppin'.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">North River Road</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>October 28 was the absolute perfect day to ride this route. The foliage was at its peak, the temps were mild (55-75, low humidity), and the road conditions were close to primo. And I started in good company with Lindsey, Courtney, and John.</div><div><br /></div><div>I opted to ride my Niner Air 9 RDO with Maxxis Rambler 50's. My lower back had been angry the past two weeks, and even though I had muted the pain by loading with Aleve the couple days prior, I wanted to limit the potential for aggravation.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6L5n3u74oypah9LEOm6UXhdwIvKKgufI7XlUFuQCiWGNFYyqI0nSXTApU7S6cpGH5qI2oWFsoNIBh5Y8LXgwIhJmjJOLMlrKw2S3erMYmWFpnMBjszbW9b3klym-bgVn21lbwW9P6k3ujgLt4AI32p3Vl38yZw38dB-UsbzhIQlGR1HCaXaaXw0a9GBk/s4032/Tellico%20HIghlands%20ITT%20--%20the%20bike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6L5n3u74oypah9LEOm6UXhdwIvKKgufI7XlUFuQCiWGNFYyqI0nSXTApU7S6cpGH5qI2oWFsoNIBh5Y8LXgwIhJmjJOLMlrKw2S3erMYmWFpnMBjszbW9b3klym-bgVn21lbwW9P6k3ujgLt4AI32p3Vl38yZw38dB-UsbzhIQlGR1HCaXaaXw0a9GBk/w300-h400/Tellico%20HIghlands%20ITT%20--%20the%20bike.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Only a pound heavier than my CheckPoint</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>Lindsey and Courtney set a pretty brisk pace up Wildcat Road, FS 384. I hung on towards the back, but far enough away to not draft. I had to back off some on the Bald River Road climb, but was able to catch back up on the descent down to Holly Flats. My bike handled the sketchy washboarding perfectly and I was so much more comfortable being able to stay seated some, as compared to when I had ridden this on my gravel bike a few weeks back.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqj2Lhx1iF7kBIk66T2-bDgr2ShrnyiDH_HNYm4L1pGhmYDgw0vqmly11IeoWDFtI7DCRITuD9Yo6UlqSVdDEEWmb1mYfCy2WDbObXGeHINaaCrSQ6Bb92G1HlZQd4IdX2Hj9bkLaiQdomkaxtPSg4i-Ucjeq6BK-BXClMbSsJMCFC7zZQogKe6K8x5Vw/s4032/Tellico%20Highlands%20ITT%20--%20top%20of%20Bald%20River%20Road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqj2Lhx1iF7kBIk66T2-bDgr2ShrnyiDH_HNYm4L1pGhmYDgw0vqmly11IeoWDFtI7DCRITuD9Yo6UlqSVdDEEWmb1mYfCy2WDbObXGeHINaaCrSQ6Bb92G1HlZQd4IdX2Hj9bkLaiQdomkaxtPSg4i-Ucjeq6BK-BXClMbSsJMCFC7zZQogKe6K8x5Vw/w300-h400/Tellico%20Highlands%20ITT%20--%20top%20of%20Bald%20River%20Road.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Basin Gap at top of Bald River Road</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Riding down River Road, I pulled off at the game check station to use the restroom and refill a bottle. I lost contact with the gang, as they did not stop. I slowly caught back up to them over the several miles of false flat on North River Road. Once the climb began to steepen, I was unwilling to keep the pace Linsdsey and Courtney were setting, so I drifted back, but was still able to keep them within eye contact.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc4cWM4q91ug05Q0MkhJP-3frpqWFFZb6nRD5PrCTcT1i_yNVeKk3XtEo7h1Hk76htNYQOJfrmpWVjaHKsV0pPtylxvcUnyZbsb5u6F11LJVH-NiFkm60i7P39T1_gwEG-xqDVPsgehEXXhwcZsp3v-7H2_sBd9Gwnnqv3mQBA5_H7nsUDFxdimZdkhZU/s1170/Tellico%20Highlands%20ITT%20--%20me%20climbing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="851" data-original-width="1170" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc4cWM4q91ug05Q0MkhJP-3frpqWFFZb6nRD5PrCTcT1i_yNVeKk3XtEo7h1Hk76htNYQOJfrmpWVjaHKsV0pPtylxvcUnyZbsb5u6F11LJVH-NiFkm60i7P39T1_gwEG-xqDVPsgehEXXhwcZsp3v-7H2_sBd9Gwnnqv3mQBA5_H7nsUDFxdimZdkhZU/w400-h291/Tellico%20Highlands%20ITT%20--%20me%20climbing.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>My gameplan was to keep it comfortably hard until I hit the Farr Gap climb, and then if I was still feeling good, I would ramp up the effort. I made sure to fuel every 30 minutes and try to take in about 60 grams of carbs per hour.</div><div><br /></div><div>John fell off the pace, too, but not before he mentioned that there was a piped spring on North River Road (the one we were currently climbing). Hmmm, as long as I have been riding this road, I had never seen it. But sure enough, about 4 miles from the top, I saw it on the left. I know where I will be refilling now, instead of the game check station, as that water tasted quite awful today.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzfUoOQARLRIsObJoFnSTRudTXN8ncRKRpoyIhq7ArKv041BX25sZ9zqV9q_ayTIeO6ObVx15g6hyu9fovPrugq_Pbq7efChSzkvOneN-Cra2HUixbYiW_G5hN7D4812zGoQtrVC_ZfHJ47cdiu62XzsqIa3rcBe_jrqbsHkgqQlG1QcEZF58t64iqFqo/s4032/Tellico%20HIghlands%20ITT%20--%20Cherohala%20Skyway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzfUoOQARLRIsObJoFnSTRudTXN8ncRKRpoyIhq7ArKv041BX25sZ9zqV9q_ayTIeO6ObVx15g6hyu9fovPrugq_Pbq7efChSzkvOneN-Cra2HUixbYiW_G5hN7D4812zGoQtrVC_ZfHJ47cdiu62XzsqIa3rcBe_jrqbsHkgqQlG1QcEZF58t64iqFqo/w300-h400/Tellico%20HIghlands%20ITT%20--%20Cherohala%20Skyway.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>Once on the Skyway, there was still more climbing ... ughh! Here is where I had my low moment. Even though the Skyway is mostly downhill, there are still 3 ugly pitches that had me grumbling, to which my inner demon responded and enticed me to slow down, perhaps stop at an overlook and take in the view. Nope, nope, hell nope! This only made me dig deeper, stand and hammer, and aero tuck so hard on the subsequent descents that my neck and back began to cry a little.</div><div><br /></div><div>Heading to Indian Boundary, I was looking forward to the lake trail. Little did I know that this was the last weekend the campground was open and 2 busloads of church peeps had just unloaded and were walking on the trail. It was wall to wall people that I had to maneuver around, all the while keeping a smile and talking pleasantries as I yielded to them. I started to get pretty tense as I waited 2, 3, 4 minutes at the one lane bridge with chain link on both sides as people SLOWLY made their way across. Finally there was an opening and I took it.</div><div><br /></div><div>As I rode past the campground store, I looked for Lindsey and Courtney. Not seeing them, I finished the lake loop and proceeded down Citico Creek Road. I stopped to use the restroom just before the turn off to Farr Gap, and then took a 200mg caffeine pill. I was hoping to catch Lindsey and Courtney on this loop, most likely on the descent, as Lindsey was riding her gravel bike.</div><div><br /></div><div>Doublecamp Road was chunky and now covered in leaves. Once again, I was thankful to be on my mountain bike. And the dull ache in my lower back, which had been present the last 40 miles, was now gone. Don't know why, but not gonna complain. Feeling good, I ramped up my effort, and had my second fastest time up this climb. Yea for small victories!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi8sGJWXLzPKgCYXlFrNrbEUD6oDxUnktJh9eRsOHEv3kzefGJGe6f_dRI83tCvee12Ty2_FEbcS5pHnAEYDkK4AZQkTAs8QWCMleDKx6l2Ad749_1DMsZzBqspK2NLo2rtHOmIzNCki8M_CZ8JdNHcQ0FvytOhctUzR05On8vXyC56A2hpgBGImoOCXc/s4032/Tellico%20Highlands%20ITT%20--%20Farr%20Gap%20Climb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi8sGJWXLzPKgCYXlFrNrbEUD6oDxUnktJh9eRsOHEv3kzefGJGe6f_dRI83tCvee12Ty2_FEbcS5pHnAEYDkK4AZQkTAs8QWCMleDKx6l2Ad749_1DMsZzBqspK2NLo2rtHOmIzNCki8M_CZ8JdNHcQ0FvytOhctUzR05On8vXyC56A2hpgBGImoOCXc/w300-h400/Tellico%20Highlands%20ITT%20--%20Farr%20Gap%20Climb.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Farr Gap climb</td></tr></tbody></table><br />By the time I had reached the top, I was feeling sparkly. I just knew I would be able to catch them on the descent. Despite the leaf cover and rowdiness of the gravel, I cautiously sent it! A couple times I hit a rock hidden by the leaves hard enough for me to anticipate the sealant flinging out of my tire, but fortunately I did not puncture. As I was approaching the bottom, I could not believe I hadn't caught at least Lindsey. She must have "Hail Mary'd" it off the top!<div><br /></div><div>At the bottom, I filled my bottles one more time at the piped spring. I hard charged it down to the Miller Ridge turn off, and began to climb. For once, I was glad to see the climb profile pop up on my Garmin. This allowed me to redline my effort on the climbs and recover on the short descents. People often refer to this 9 mile section as "death by a thousand rollers." While the profile looks pretty tame compared to the rest of the course, it hits you hard, and if you haven't saved a little energy for this last section, it will gut punch you.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWxc6GAUaafxIC9OcLXXbb_6GlJsJ02gO63z7kJAFDwTtsNJbYM5mB5LWT366CJloM4rpJDOIyIyNR0Vjk9zkvLVsPZhd8OQH_bjzAnE2Sv6haUy2l73Svlcuhwv5VQLQiwJlLQZcsbQ8013TVsIH1zuhGwIk6bgQsJHSkrzcPY-9bnenqYAecGqRWBnQ/s4032/Tellico%20Highlands%20ITT%20--%20selfie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWxc6GAUaafxIC9OcLXXbb_6GlJsJ02gO63z7kJAFDwTtsNJbYM5mB5LWT366CJloM4rpJDOIyIyNR0Vjk9zkvLVsPZhd8OQH_bjzAnE2Sv6haUy2l73Svlcuhwv5VQLQiwJlLQZcsbQ8013TVsIH1zuhGwIk6bgQsJHSkrzcPY-9bnenqYAecGqRWBnQ/w300-h400/Tellico%20Highlands%20ITT%20--%20selfie.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div></div><div>While I was climbing I kept looking for tire tracks. There were spots along the course that I should have seen their tracks, but I was not. I did question if somehow I had leapfrogged them. It would have had to been at the campground store. Believing they were still in front, along with the caffeine-induced euphoria, kept me pushing hard.</div><div><br /></div><div>Once I finished up Miller's Ridge, I thought it was all downhill to the finish. What I forgot was the section of Rafter's Road and Turkey Creek that undulated ... forever it seemed. At least the scenery was spectacular!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD97xR0D5S3bdSIw8SHNMhErzRbuobsgeFVRKi2QR2U44AnEl0DzWpx8fpUGdHFCjPRS7JC4eAHfvj7vFNNohUFCUO7NUHQfmrdzNQgGRXMYn7dxiaETy3APukDqH-6BCtNBy9BUuZsEIuPf5wOEZBS7oQm5RvamJqxUi6qq7pz6_QrmheQkyNJfFrXnA/s4032/Tellico%20Highlands%20ITT%20--%20Turkey%20Creek%20Road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD97xR0D5S3bdSIw8SHNMhErzRbuobsgeFVRKi2QR2U44AnEl0DzWpx8fpUGdHFCjPRS7JC4eAHfvj7vFNNohUFCUO7NUHQfmrdzNQgGRXMYn7dxiaETy3APukDqH-6BCtNBy9BUuZsEIuPf5wOEZBS7oQm5RvamJqxUi6qq7pz6_QrmheQkyNJfFrXnA/w400-h300/Tellico%20Highlands%20ITT%20--%20Turkey%20Creek%20Road.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turkey Creek Road</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Approaching the lower Turkey Creek Road closure, I was concerned about passage. Was I going to have to put on my sweetest, most innocent southern belle voice I could muster and talk my way through? </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjyPKhufTz1UbjgCPO1Mi9FlqtpaNnCRFe3krB7I3Eyu8TAztwkxXpzbo7SUXZgqOUy4IHy3pUrneDqHilJeBvUDLC0MCxy0oSVYDPe6LeV1e6KNLAmg4V3JlkYqrQnE1jyL0vrOUjJCvOgRHA03YejacIwR_isxhV9x6F_4p9t6w14vUaKLKet-M_tkA/s4032/Tellico%20Highlands%20--%20Turkey%20Creek%20Road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjyPKhufTz1UbjgCPO1Mi9FlqtpaNnCRFe3krB7I3Eyu8TAztwkxXpzbo7SUXZgqOUy4IHy3pUrneDqHilJeBvUDLC0MCxy0oSVYDPe6LeV1e6KNLAmg4V3JlkYqrQnE1jyL0vrOUjJCvOgRHA03YejacIwR_isxhV9x6F_4p9t6w14vUaKLKet-M_tkA/w300-h400/Tellico%20Highlands%20--%20Turkey%20Creek%20Road.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>I had no problems accessing. I put down the hammer and rode like a scalded dog. I squeezed in between a pick up truck and a dump truck at the bottom and then TT'd it down River Road. No one was gonna catch me now. </div><div><br /></div><div>As I approached my truck at the Oosterneck Overlook, Lindsey and Courtney, nor their bikes, were nowhere to be found. I had been chasing ghosts for the past 45 miles! Oh, well! That was a good thing, as it made me push harder than I probably would have had I started this journey solo.</div><div><br /></div><div>They showed up not too long after me. They had indeed stopped at the campground store and got caught in a line at the cash register. And then each of them had punctured on Farr Gap, but managed to plug their tires. DynaPlug for the win! Had it not been for those two setbacks, I would have indeed been chasing them all the way to the finish. Such strong powerful and fun women to ride with!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMbSOVVKtU81tIomojKEfWWcLGRWUj_0o7efwB4YZNscFLKnfusAJUcKRxW4DaM9E6dEQf0e1VL2ZWuLaO88-Z2l1Wpid_wrbISEeQJUM77FemzLX00tVGFMPUOXfiKlDH_ICPB5XvhyphenhyphenmlXlM-kue0eJdJqmwLf6M0cn2_QuFv0nE9OYzQ38XRSqev0Y/s1795/Tellico%20Highlands%20ITT%20--%20we%20ladies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1795" data-original-width="1440" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMbSOVVKtU81tIomojKEfWWcLGRWUj_0o7efwB4YZNscFLKnfusAJUcKRxW4DaM9E6dEQf0e1VL2ZWuLaO88-Z2l1Wpid_wrbISEeQJUM77FemzLX00tVGFMPUOXfiKlDH_ICPB5XvhyphenhyphenmlXlM-kue0eJdJqmwLf6M0cn2_QuFv0nE9OYzQ38XRSqev0Y/w321-h400/Tellico%20Highlands%20ITT%20--%20we%20ladies.jpg" width="321" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglnQyQegz9RqcWPqRfWnGDX21Jjsc6w-gvy_jksgjssOovxfbj_WK5bgycvx5LGutZcofsZvM68GuV9jkAZ1kn7CfJn_lSqU-es6QxArfjTD4F5jItuSUFgZC8I00xRvFFALAG2sQTA_LHToqVVxHdFyLlLhcGIthbxow7H_WhV0z3Caqt5W2k_f-tJBg/s1800/397262317_18399875641019285_2546802553547300723_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglnQyQegz9RqcWPqRfWnGDX21Jjsc6w-gvy_jksgjssOovxfbj_WK5bgycvx5LGutZcofsZvM68GuV9jkAZ1kn7CfJn_lSqU-es6QxArfjTD4F5jItuSUFgZC8I00xRvFFALAG2sQTA_LHToqVVxHdFyLlLhcGIthbxow7H_WhV0z3Caqt5W2k_f-tJBg/w320-h400/397262317_18399875641019285_2546802553547300723_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lindsey's nail</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvDMyIOMx3ptSCwbI2RK2YVz1_VbQpC3vUtRfDPlTuaEYVrzeqUqPFLYMADn7XQcJGarbP44DzZCTlcBZtlfy-YZNLyyax-jokloAdGIvRYbvkTt6F848wdGrmKhWm0ZlEg_Khpm_usSq78tgOBoD9FYPZmw5QYQ7XnI79uCTimCnJyoJdYAQWHibFiWo/s1800/Tellico%20Highlands%20ITT%20--%20John.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvDMyIOMx3ptSCwbI2RK2YVz1_VbQpC3vUtRfDPlTuaEYVrzeqUqPFLYMADn7XQcJGarbP44DzZCTlcBZtlfy-YZNLyyax-jokloAdGIvRYbvkTt6F848wdGrmKhWm0ZlEg_Khpm_usSq78tgOBoD9FYPZmw5QYQ7XnI79uCTimCnJyoJdYAQWHibFiWo/w320-h400/Tellico%20Highlands%20ITT%20--%20John.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our official photographer, always on the ready.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>I managed to set a time of 8 hours, on the nose, which I believe is good enough for the FKT. At least I get the chance to hold it for a bit, until Heather Jackson, comes and obliterates it 😆. But both Lindsey and Courtney are fully capable of taking it, as long as they ditch the store stop, and keep air in their tires.</div><div><br /></div>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-14342333444558697412023-10-11T16:57:00.001-04:002023-10-11T16:57:01.235-04:0012 Hours of the Hill of Truth Race Report<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6QIdFUE5rxSg-CZMj6BzOlf-caU6DWFGo2j-j6taD7w7TudxSBhGSgHIQIJSLkQ2f48-SzQ9_lowLscriPg2UX9EU1bk1xaISypIYutco_b4tT_1BVdQtZ1qHPDgu9Q5Ua5pz6khzMCb7lQeQh3kLQM-cNfK8ql0IqYyhL9Le-aHlMsAjT3SwSZhwayY/s2000/12%20Hours%20of%20HOT%20LOgo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1414" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6QIdFUE5rxSg-CZMj6BzOlf-caU6DWFGo2j-j6taD7w7TudxSBhGSgHIQIJSLkQ2f48-SzQ9_lowLscriPg2UX9EU1bk1xaISypIYutco_b4tT_1BVdQtZ1qHPDgu9Q5Ua5pz6khzMCb7lQeQh3kLQM-cNfK8ql0IqYyhL9Le-aHlMsAjT3SwSZhwayY/w283-h400/12%20Hours%20of%20HOT%20LOgo.jpg" width="283" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>This year was the 25th anniversary. While there were several race/ride options this weekend, I decided to go back to my roots (both literally and figuratively). This race was my very first 12 hour event, 20 years ago ... back in the days of 26" wheels and rim brakes. </p><p>The race was handed over to Clinch Valley Trail Alliance in 2018, 2019? And 12 Hours of HOT has become an annual fundraiser for the club, who maintain and build trails within Haw Ridge. And finally have the funds to put up carsonite trail markers. </p><p>A couple weeks ago, I helped out at one of their trail work days, prepping the course, and getting to see the course before it was released. Unfortunately, TVA had laid about 6-12" of large gravel on the iconic powerline climb (THE Hill of Truth), and it was totally unrideable, even for the pointy end of the field. So CVTA decided not to include it in this year's course. Instead they replaced it with the almost equally painful East Ridge single track climb.</p><p>Just enough rain the day before made for near perfect trail conditions. It was a chilly 50 degree start at 9am. I opted to stay mid pack, not wanting to burn matches mixing it up with the young guns. We started in the campground area and immediately hit the single track of Beaver Trail and Buzzards Bluff. This section was a little slick and my tires were slipping off rocks and roots. It was still congested riding through Mike's Trail and East Edge, but at least the roots and rocks were dry. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcpN_NhTyxaVz9Ga42f-s5a57gWcYETvEAZjBVtDaHe8UkWBF4RSpzslaQ6w31aE2mJeF-LfCO0EOrvIPwohp6v6_2N4CF1NgROQjVbSNhHia0rLJiYcMHY7n5x6KOdrZNe68c10VxctwbLYSgT_Vn7dUFS6cq3MN6ycEea-87-ATcth0Ow2t0hzt1DIU/s4032/Haw%20Ridge%20--%20East%20Edge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcpN_NhTyxaVz9Ga42f-s5a57gWcYETvEAZjBVtDaHe8UkWBF4RSpzslaQ6w31aE2mJeF-LfCO0EOrvIPwohp6v6_2N4CF1NgROQjVbSNhHia0rLJiYcMHY7n5x6KOdrZNe68c10VxctwbLYSgT_Vn7dUFS6cq3MN6ycEea-87-ATcth0Ow2t0hzt1DIU/w300-h400/Haw%20Ridge%20--%20East%20Edge.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">East Edge</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Then began the 0.3 mile climb up East Ridge/Rainbow to Powerline. This climb had several steep pitches throughout, where my nose was just above my bar trying to keep the front tire grounded. Fortunately it was wide enough to get around several racers who lost traction and were not walking. </p><p>Once on Powerline, it was still a short push to get up on Ridge. Traffic had thinned out by now and I was in my own bubble. This was a fun stretch of tight single track along a contour line. From there, I took a hard left on to K2 Trail, a steep descent down to Roller Coaster. Aptly named, Roller Coaster was a series of tight and twisty steep ups and downs. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLNdS6BHOOOWiI8dqt2BqKV9Ddr-UDJ2n6XP-gega4meZyntBg_-EcX1xPbQQICtN_o-MPAgen-T3vKGQCqIBTWCU3ns1cEspS6OiDqgRcwMaNO0mNKc4gTluoaRH26BaC_ITQGjOvmzvijnHYcWOPNk-MV0AV5T5vpaFaDYJhFGqlyOUMdYEsSW4oLuU/s4032/Haw%20Ridge%20--%20RollerCoaster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLNdS6BHOOOWiI8dqt2BqKV9Ddr-UDJ2n6XP-gega4meZyntBg_-EcX1xPbQQICtN_o-MPAgen-T3vKGQCqIBTWCU3ns1cEspS6OiDqgRcwMaNO0mNKc4gTluoaRH26BaC_ITQGjOvmzvijnHYcWOPNk-MV0AV5T5vpaFaDYJhFGqlyOUMdYEsSW4oLuU/w300-h400/Haw%20Ridge%20--%20RollerCoaster.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roller Coaster</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Fox, Red Hill, Lake, and Twister were fairly tame. This was the time to take in nutrition and rest a bit before V Trail. This was a mother! A long steep climb, followed by an "eye-ball rattling" rocky descent. The quads were worked on V and then I had what felt like a forever long technical climb on Upper Soccer.</p><p>Fortunately the last couple of miles back to the start were fairly mellow and I had a chance to chill and take in nutrition on the Dirt Lab trails and Old Edgemoor. Finishing that lap at a 55 minute pace, I stopped at my cooler and exchanged bottles and shoved a banana down the hatch. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jQJzlTYMXJp2nte5_6KyrFy6ojrJvkHbEGxM2n7k1on214YG2eKt6mw54Hs3V3VwCx7UMIaBnoTClZQ-zgejzC9aF7aSQ1z1IYWEKpGdG5nrlC1ooPbRwmFZ24nXL4VT3D9ZhFk-ceZclMKrnRy6JWAGUtQSrre-BVEq6ECUGGpiGOi-IF9vxCNPrGo/s4032/12%20Hours%20of%20HOT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jQJzlTYMXJp2nte5_6KyrFy6ojrJvkHbEGxM2n7k1on214YG2eKt6mw54Hs3V3VwCx7UMIaBnoTClZQ-zgejzC9aF7aSQ1z1IYWEKpGdG5nrlC1ooPbRwmFZ24nXL4VT3D9ZhFk-ceZclMKrnRy6JWAGUtQSrre-BVEq6ECUGGpiGOi-IF9vxCNPrGo/w300-h400/12%20Hours%20of%20HOT.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My pit area</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>On the second lap as well as all others, I was mostly by myself. Occasionally someone would pass or I would make a pass, but everyone played nice and was so polite and giving words of encouragement. Towards the end of this lap, my lower back began to ache. Having known this was a possibility, I had loaded up on naproxen the 36 hours prior, hoping to avoid this, but damn! I guess I was gonna have to deal with the pain.</p><p>Laps 3-6 the pain intensified. It was hard not to ignore the demons in my head telling me just to stop and the pain would go away. I fought against them, telling myself just to take it one lap at a time. Just get to 6, I would say, and then reevaluate. And each time I rolled through the start/finish, I said, just one more. Not gonna lie, the demon would speak at least once every lap and tell me to take a look at the results and if I was ahead, then I could slow down or quit. But GGG (grit, gristle, and gumption) would say nope, nope, nope. </p><p>So I kept on pedaling, not stopping, other than to grab more nutrition. I did have to take a pee break after the 5th lap, and that damn demon kept picking at my brain. But I did not give in. Fortunately, either my back pain began to lessen, or I had learned to ignore it</p><p>With 1000 feet of gain per 6.5 mile lap, it was beginning to take a toll on me on the 7th lap. I began to break down the lap into 3 sections, each one denoted by the 3 biggest climbs (East Ridge, Roller Coaster, and V). I permitted myself to walk two short sections; the steepest climb on Roller Coaster and the last little grunty climb on Twister at the intersection of Lake. However, I made it my challenge to clean the V climb each and every time, which I did.</p><p>Finally after lap 9, I allowed myself to look at the standings. I had a 2 lap lead on second, and after doing some math, thought I could probably stop and hold 1st place. But, GGG said nope! You gotta do one more because you have always gotten at least 10 laps in every year you have done this race. So after a minute of stretching the lower back, I got back out and finished my 10th lap.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0glP0MJpP_RJAqIswqrNk3ynBr1urUqJ39XuwnWYaBklhZ57VBLyxPbBy2MV0vOxlfektUwjIiHfhXMmoLyiKd3ONthkvx7SeaBm0o20xYUZPkttD5odOsBAXAc5xlosi-WsJLigTgOaDxG0MSyS5MuN4lGviXf_Vinmu3xvLvZWTlGbDRkMxeoCD7vc/s4032/12%20Hours%20of%20HOT%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0glP0MJpP_RJAqIswqrNk3ynBr1urUqJ39XuwnWYaBklhZ57VBLyxPbBy2MV0vOxlfektUwjIiHfhXMmoLyiKd3ONthkvx7SeaBm0o20xYUZPkttD5odOsBAXAc5xlosi-WsJLigTgOaDxG0MSyS5MuN4lGviXf_Vinmu3xvLvZWTlGbDRkMxeoCD7vc/w300-h400/12%20Hours%20of%20HOT%202.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Done, with 2+ hours to spare</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Total time: 9:53</p><p>Mileage: Garmin said only 63, but it was actually closer to 70</p><p>Elevation gain: 9700 feet</p><p><br /></p><p>I would have to say that of all 6 times I have raced this event, this course was the most brutal, due to the amount of climbing. I am just not sure what percentage being 10-20 years older contributes to this decision 😆😆😆. But I do know that I am 100% happy that I am still able to push this body as hard as I do and she still responds ... mostly.</p><p>A big thanks goes out to Lisa Mueller and the rest of the Clinch River Trail Alliance for keeping this race alive ... and hard. </p>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-63703388798110715832023-09-20T20:36:00.001-04:002023-09-20T20:39:48.396-04:00Marji Gesick 100 Race Report<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSzC_Re-IwzNAp_RevEKbF7sB7R8lwo1Xi1zIZc7iHFFX_bumGRa_J6fCJXYGnhOE56V9jh4bGwjn_slpBMevYPaD4YSd83oXbW3nyxCyiYIa5k-J_nVSk2NJkCIN5dI0HFZ0ZXTg1VHC0vp5Jziodv6NPdNFrnOfNXlkFu5IgZLWUVbN5hRjNwEbRAHg/s8192/Marji%20Gesick%20Rob%20Meendering%20photo%20on%20Scary.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5464" data-original-width="8192" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSzC_Re-IwzNAp_RevEKbF7sB7R8lwo1Xi1zIZc7iHFFX_bumGRa_J6fCJXYGnhOE56V9jh4bGwjn_slpBMevYPaD4YSd83oXbW3nyxCyiYIa5k-J_nVSk2NJkCIN5dI0HFZ0ZXTg1VHC0vp5Jziodv6NPdNFrnOfNXlkFu5IgZLWUVbN5hRjNwEbRAHg/w400-h266/Marji%20Gesick%20Rob%20Meendering%20photo%20on%20Scary.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">📷: Rob Meendering</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>Racing is hard, life is harder. If it wasn't, it wouldn't be worth living.</p><p>Taking this straight from Todd Poquette's (MG race director) mouth: </p><div class="xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">"Now that I've had some time to decompress. I witnessed a lot of <span style="font-family: inherit;"><a class="x1i10hfl xjbqb8w x6umtig x1b1mbwd xaqea5y xav7gou x9f619 x1ypdohk xt0psk2 xe8uvvx xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r xexx8yu x4uap5 x18d9i69 xkhd6sd x16tdsg8 x1hl2dhg xggy1nq x1a2a7pz xt0b8zv x1qq9wsj xo1l8bm" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/finisher?__eep__=6&__cft__[0]=AZVEh0GfH-eOJqf1kc258pxHgczOjH0h2GzoNwvlyKh2HqoRUf9uETJRcnkTnqt6dZw552yqadA0yOsce5RMSg7EU7xToZf_Z4vlKsZytgwj-MKC-tFL4mrxLELmXEcDHNV1TiLuT6sQsrUaEbJKu8DLerWwJwQHQWW2d-okopKwT55zfmWiO6G_DNMvWBYth90TQAgrUbdLBAEnB8EDnk7x&__tn__=*NK-y-R" role="link" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: transparent; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: inherit; text-decoration-line: none; touch-action: manipulation;" tabindex="0">#finisher</a></span> stories come to a conclusion this year after several (or more) <span style="font-family: inherit;"><a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;" tabindex="-1"></a></span>years of defeat. One guy, after getting his<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a class="x1i10hfl xjbqb8w x6umtig x1b1mbwd xaqea5y xav7gou x9f619 x1ypdohk xt0psk2 xe8uvvx xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r xexx8yu x4uap5 x18d9i69 xkhd6sd x16tdsg8 x1hl2dhg xggy1nq x1a2a7pz xt0b8zv x1qq9wsj xo1l8bm" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/finisher?__eep__=6&__cft__[0]=AZVEh0GfH-eOJqf1kc258pxHgczOjH0h2GzoNwvlyKh2HqoRUf9uETJRcnkTnqt6dZw552yqadA0yOsce5RMSg7EU7xToZf_Z4vlKsZytgwj-MKC-tFL4mrxLELmXEcDHNV1TiLuT6sQsrUaEbJKu8DLerWwJwQHQWW2d-okopKwT55zfmWiO6G_DNMvWBYth90TQAgrUbdLBAEnB8EDnk7x&__tn__=*NK-y-R" role="link" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: transparent; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: inherit; text-decoration-line: none; touch-action: manipulation;" tabindex="0"> #finishe</a></span>r token, broke down and cried at the finish line. Hard shit is hard. I shouldn't have to say that, but I do. We need to do hard shit - there's no way around it. It's not a box you check and move on... it becomes part of the fabric of your life. To the extent that every day when you wake up... you know you're gonna do some hard shit... regardless of whether you feel like it or have time. You make it fucking happen. It's a lifestyle. It's a commitment. </div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">To do the hardest stuff, you have to be willing to be vulnerable. Ya gotta be willing to let the experience crack you and let those doubts, excuses, narratives, and emotions spill out. You have to put yourself in the crucible and grind everything down until the only thing you're left with is the willingness to do whatever it takes... in all aspects of your life. </div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">I talk about the 25-Hour Mindset at Marji Camp. Most people are not willing to go that far - at least not at first. They nod their head and agree, but they don't really mean it. They can't comprehend it. They have no point of reference. They're unprepared, and that inevitable lesson is the first hurdle they have to get over. Tending to the bruised ego. I've seen it a thousand times. Person signs up and thinks they're big shit. Person shows up and quits. That's an eye-opening experience for ya. Some don't come back, unable to overcome the initial defeat. Others take that defeat and pin it to a bulletin board and look at it every day until they finish what they started - whether it takes two years, three, four, seven, or more.</div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">On Friday night and Saturday morning, there were a few people I told, "I don't wanna see you, hear from you, and sure as the hell not get a damn text from you until you finish." Each of them has been on a multi-year Marji journey. Most of them finished for the first time this year. Incredible. After dark Saturday night, around 10:00pm, I asked Sam how many people we still had on course, he told me it was more than 400. All through the night, hundreds of people fought with themselves and the course, hoping to find their limits and the finish line. I find this very promising. I find it promising that we had a lively finish line full of people, energy, and emotion well past 5:00am. I find it promising that this event can bring people together the way it does. </div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">I'll close with this. Sometimes, a person comes into your life with no real intention other than to make you better. Those people can be difficult to be around because they constantly challenge you. They make you deal with your shit. They call you out. They won't let you quit. They tend to be a little combative and abrasive. You want those people in your life. You need them. Don't push them away if you have them. They want the best for you, and when you don't demand it from yourself, they demand it from you."</div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">That's Marji Gesick.</div></div><p><br /></p><p>This was my 7th time at Marji. I initially had signed up for the duathlon again, but after I tore my MCL in April, I was unable to do any run training, so I switched to the bike. The injury opened up an opportunity I had been chewing on for the past couple years: SSingleSSpeed! After talking with the Michigan ladieSS about gearing, I opted for a 30 x 22.</p><p>Once again I had the wonderful support of Lisa's husband, Chris, and her father-in-law, Rudi. The night before, we gathered in the living room to go over crewing duties. My needs were rather simple: bottle hand offs at pre-determined locations and drop my aid boxes at Jackson Park. Lisa's instructions were a little more ... needy 😉.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW4UAHRoAZOvE8v49pvKr2q525l1vsKUK8UY69EWG5_KKEzMsRDNZtnAvVQL9kS9btoKQSMb8j198hYAxy5L5w8kErRtWpkNFklcqQbN_LuJzc4hsOservRD4zbDuHM3ICQt1PLlJrGzJhEfchrUZTB-PBB_SNwdWXlugu7ej9LLd9UnvItGKeNwwTzTI/s4032/Marji%20Gesick%20SAG%20crew%20meeting.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW4UAHRoAZOvE8v49pvKr2q525l1vsKUK8UY69EWG5_KKEzMsRDNZtnAvVQL9kS9btoKQSMb8j198hYAxy5L5w8kErRtWpkNFklcqQbN_LuJzc4hsOservRD4zbDuHM3ICQt1PLlJrGzJhEfchrUZTB-PBB_SNwdWXlugu7ej9LLd9UnvItGKeNwwTzTI/w300-h400/Marji%20Gesick%20SAG%20crew%20meeting.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At least a 15 minute dissertation</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpw-0TTQGb4knVoANvIPSvGCy5Vy1ZYhq7utpaxMXACjYVbKB_2Oimi_RlrGdVQHZd4vU_rf6OOnPLgHISbf0pRZg86cmw20igo0MdioDN55CR_UGE0cEDYSmK-dQsacOxOIDLDt2Gv4N8O5z9th6Mcq2b-JFSUeFZgLdpXCrhkkmDzWDmo-OGos7Vlds/s4032/Marji%20Gesick%20Lisa's%20SAG%20duties%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpw-0TTQGb4knVoANvIPSvGCy5Vy1ZYhq7utpaxMXACjYVbKB_2Oimi_RlrGdVQHZd4vU_rf6OOnPLgHISbf0pRZg86cmw20igo0MdioDN55CR_UGE0cEDYSmK-dQsacOxOIDLDt2Gv4N8O5z9th6Mcq2b-JFSUeFZgLdpXCrhkkmDzWDmo-OGos7Vlds/w300-h400/Marji%20Gesick%20Lisa's%20SAG%20duties%20(2).jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDHOBb4mUQaq61rHD3cC6epMEIQzERhKkOaxz8PVhNfoTNrU9CVkKElLFrUZAiixhAOVD9BLxDNFDrQDMeP56PtZyHxEtH1Lj1P8NukXl6TTDDowHvSVGXALqtsAnCePeRyFFazxD3s22Ds6y7Y0AHSOrPwXh4_ofRXB2vF__L1n5x2sAu-K---_H49oU/s4032/Marji%20Gesick%20Lisa's%20SAG%20duties.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDHOBb4mUQaq61rHD3cC6epMEIQzERhKkOaxz8PVhNfoTNrU9CVkKElLFrUZAiixhAOVD9BLxDNFDrQDMeP56PtZyHxEtH1Lj1P8NukXl6TTDDowHvSVGXALqtsAnCePeRyFFazxD3s22Ds6y7Y0AHSOrPwXh4_ofRXB2vF__L1n5x2sAu-K---_H49oU/w300-h400/Marji%20Gesick%20Lisa's%20SAG%20duties.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Racing is a whole lot easier than crewing in the Randall household</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Mother Nature gave us spectacular weather. Every year, it always seems to rain the evening/night before. No rain the day before OR the day of. Cloudy, with temps ranging from 55-65 degrees during the day, dropping to 50° at night.</p><p>There were six of us ladies in the singlespeed class, the most ever. I have a lot of respect for them and have Jenny Acker to thank for getting me to commit. Last year, during the running portion of my race, Jenny came upon me, all smiles and encouragement. Here she was, 16+ hours into the race and still having fun!</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtptY-5JCi_9wDECxwz8BYbHf7O1EkaM5pCTYbRkirwoPKeHL6N25ux1OQszw2l3LJSaOaBG68WEHi9oi-MiDrecam0YlIlUZHdGJYcBZUHcKWA3z3qIEgTstxexM4FxpOtlzbuELpOSBR8e5PF6rjg4Q7gYlhWvOOXGkn52fzFxiOHW2amtigpLQMeD4/s1440/Marji%20Gesick%20SS%20ladies.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="959" data-original-width="1440" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtptY-5JCi_9wDECxwz8BYbHf7O1EkaM5pCTYbRkirwoPKeHL6N25ux1OQszw2l3LJSaOaBG68WEHi9oi-MiDrecam0YlIlUZHdGJYcBZUHcKWA3z3qIEgTstxexM4FxpOtlzbuELpOSBR8e5PF6rjg4Q7gYlhWvOOXGkn52fzFxiOHW2amtigpLQMeD4/w400-h266/Marji%20Gesick%20SS%20ladies.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">📷: Rob Meendering. Mariah, me, Christina, Kristen, Jenny, and Jill</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>The race starts out with a 0.6 mile run. My only goal was to not get run over or have someone step on my shoe and pull it off. Four minutes later and I was on my bike. My gearing allowed me to slowly warm up over the "easier" miles at Forestville. I also got to hang with Jill and Hannah a little bit, until our gearing led us off at different speeds.</p><p>Top O' the World was a mess of riders/walkers, so I chose to HAB down the rocky descent, passing at least 10 people in the process. While I have ridden this in year's past, today was just not worth the risk, and actually quicker to run it. </p><p>The techy bits around Harlow Lake were the driest I have ever seen it, making forward progress much easier. I suppose my only regret in running this gear, was that I got behind a considerable amount of slower racers, that made it a little more difficult to hit the "lines" at a speed I needed to get through with minimal effort. But having known this was a potential, I did not get frustrated. My goal this year was simply to finish and enjoy every last bit of trail. My mindset was about experiencing the adventure and not chasing the clock. For that very reason, I had my Garmin on the GPX track only; I did not want to know what time it was or how far I had gone.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidVMimONccg5RVIId_CrI-0BbZx9M5LJmx-W7pMLLhx9g3AfP0t66HhoE86MkMLEHkrrfB6MQhQZAkPsbFPT6GvdJcNxhUNkFo6mHdYc2q6mzjTc3JaQpVWQWc6NBkJ85i35IhXv7uLlRmgIWkpsKuiba7GjuqJ8_Gn4PCJE9raoD6M20bRCYqalTOXVo/s605/Marji%20Gesick%20Ramblin%20Man.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="605" data-original-width="605" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidVMimONccg5RVIId_CrI-0BbZx9M5LJmx-W7pMLLhx9g3AfP0t66HhoE86MkMLEHkrrfB6MQhQZAkPsbFPT6GvdJcNxhUNkFo6mHdYc2q6mzjTc3JaQpVWQWc6NBkJ85i35IhXv7uLlRmgIWkpsKuiba7GjuqJ8_Gn4PCJE9raoD6M20bRCYqalTOXVo/w400-h400/Marji%20Gesick%20Ramblin%20Man.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It doesn't get much better than this!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Coming back through Forestville, I grabbed a bottle from Chris and then set off, knowing Pine Knob was looming. But first, to enjoy the flowy trails of Ramblin' Man and Wildcat. Pine Knob has no flow, and with punchy climbs and treacherous descents, I wisely checked my ego and ran quite a bit. You can't finish the race if your body or bike is broken.</p><p>Blue Heron, Collinsville, Peter's Sandbox, and Silver Lead were where I was wishing for a harder gear. So I just focused on spinning smoothly at a very high cadence. Lowe's was so dry and so rideable. But day-um, the Sandbox was stupidly soft and deep, even hard to walk in.</p><p>I swapped both bottles out at the second SAG stop, around mile 30. From here, I found free trail along the Iron Ore Trail as I was either coasting or spinning my brains out. It did allow me the chance to take in some solid food. Just before the Harlow Farms connector trail, a young fella ripped by me and got to the single track first. No worries as he was on gears and so speedy, I wouldn't see him again, so I thought. But then, I was right on his wheel. Not sure what his game plan was, but to me it appeared to be send it on the rail trails and party pace the single track. His tires were also making an annoying sound, similar to Sponge Bob Square Pants' boots. Was he running inserts that was causing that noise? Not being able take the speed nor the noise any longer, I asked to get around. I thought for sure he would pass me again on the West Grove pavement section, but I never saw him again ... whew!</p><p>The remainder of the South Trail system seemed to fly by as I was feeling really good. Rough Rock Ridge had some trail love in the past year; might have to rename it as it was smooth and fast!</p><p>I passed through the South Trails pavilion without stopping, although that place seemed to be rocking with aid for everyone! Next up was Gurly ... ughh! The lead up to the treacherous descent I just did not have the torque to get up, which put me off my game for attempting the descent. It also appeared to be a little blown out by all the other racers, so once again I played it safe. Once over the gnarliest portion, the rest was enjoyable, as well as Doctor's. Marquette Mountain gravel climb I alternated between walking and riding. Scary is probably my favorite trail in the race. My lizard brain caused me to dab, but I was able to finish out that first difficult section without issue.</p><p>Zuegg's is normally only a downhill trail, but for Marji, we get the pleasure of riding up it. I like it this way; it is one of the very few climbs that I could settle into on the single speed. There are several sketchy spots (think rolling down off the mountain if you lose your balance on some of the rock armored sections, but it is mostly rideable up.</p><p>At the top of Zuegg's, I came across the first check point. I stopped to reach in and grab a token, but no tokens were to be found. Instead there was candy, about a thousand fireballs. I grabbed two, putting each of them in a different spot, one in my zippered pocket on my bike jersey and the other one in my Mountain Feedbag on my bike. Insurance!</p><p>After bouncing down Easy Rider, I rolled into the parking lot at Marquette Mountain (mile 51), met my crew, and swapped bottles. The skies were clouding up and looked potentially like rain, but Chris assured me no precipitation was seen in the forecast.</p><p>Off Grade has got to be my least favorite trail. It is hard enough to find a rhythm on a full suspension geared bike, let alone on my single speed. Off and on, off and on, I worked my way up to Pipe Dreams where I got a nice respite on wide, smooth trail. But then the jack hammering started on Old Camp Ridge; I started to feel some numbness in my palms, more of a nuisance than anything.</p><p>Then came the never ending snowmobile trails. Fortunately they were in the best shape I have ever seen them, making for a few more free miles. A checkpoint warning sign came up and then the trail descended steeply, which was super fun, until I blew by the actual checkpoint. Of course, it would be placed on this sweet descent. I put my bike down and walked back up to the checkpoint, which was about 10 yards up a bushwhacked trail. When I finally reached it, the bucket was empty, with a Just Kidding note inside. I could only laugh at these shenanigans.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXL01rMcKA0q0pV1Zvx_mw2iBakcG37cY3ZkHHdQQ1G0ttPrIATcu-H1yoQm62Y4PSZE00BYBLEeRhYAdfh47uSEe2AEnjIBkG_iRKCPUzeHZuYvTVhTkB733SfdF9-4_mwe_uLNgonk9yMj8yXSTapsjlael-pro2Dy2nsaqztmAdh2ZAIB6ENAz6OfU/s4032/Marji%20Gesick%20Just%20Kidding%20Checkpoint.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXL01rMcKA0q0pV1Zvx_mw2iBakcG37cY3ZkHHdQQ1G0ttPrIATcu-H1yoQm62Y4PSZE00BYBLEeRhYAdfh47uSEe2AEnjIBkG_iRKCPUzeHZuYvTVhTkB733SfdF9-4_mwe_uLNgonk9yMj8yXSTapsjlael-pro2Dy2nsaqztmAdh2ZAIB6ENAz6OfU/w300-h400/Marji%20Gesick%20Just%20Kidding%20Checkpoint.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mean, just mean!</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The next 9 miles were free ones. Going into this stretch knowing I was gonna be under geared, I had grabbed at the last SAG stop two egg/rice burritos I had made. I had plenty of time to eat 600 calories and let it begin to digest before I got to Jackson Park. I also took a pee break at the rest room located on the Iron Ore Trail.<div><br /><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0cGeD_ailFNl_5OY-dMYlz2plPmTO-uiIldrSUlEtP64hen6pF57Sf5JRfv5dD41HJYaYPY-kxtM3QRj7EUzPpW-7e93muwl6rnJhKqhw1tm-j2Jj24tSvxEl1cTF_t3kZvJ11whIbPPcuXZFPfCfwVqW3Z8s3OQgY0wR0tbuGSs7gKNywNY-e7LG0Ls/s4032/Marji%20Gesick%20selfie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0cGeD_ailFNl_5OY-dMYlz2plPmTO-uiIldrSUlEtP64hen6pF57Sf5JRfv5dD41HJYaYPY-kxtM3QRj7EUzPpW-7e93muwl6rnJhKqhw1tm-j2Jj24tSvxEl1cTF_t3kZvJ11whIbPPcuXZFPfCfwVqW3Z8s3OQgY0wR0tbuGSs7gKNywNY-e7LG0Ls/w300-h400/Marji%20Gesick%20selfie.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spin to Win!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div>Arriving at Jackson Park, Chris and Rudi were there. I swapped bottles, grabbed some more nutrition, and with nothing more left to do, headed out into RAMBA land. With renewed energy from the burritos and the incredibly slow spin to JP, I was ready to hammer again. Riding this loop, I felt like I was in a kickboxing match. So many twists, turns, punchy climbs, and steep descents, my legs were getting worked over hard. It felt like I was either at power level 1 (recovery) or level 6 (anaerobic).</div><div><br /></div><div>I started to come upon runners and 50 mile bikers, so many of which were women. It was inspiring to see so many ladies out there. Everyone was so polite, but the cyclists did seem to be happier than the runners. I shouted out encouragement to everyone, as I knew they were fighting their own demons.</div><div><br /></div><div>Last Bluff flowed well, Deer Shit not so much, and not even Sissy Pants could make me cry for my Mommy, as I knew the loop's end was near. The next checkpoint was just after Sissy Pants and it was here that the pumpkin was full of Dum Dum's. Do I sense irony? Once again, I grabbed two, for good measure.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbL5zwCcYcSRNQx80ylNx-cldAnEUZwh187TJwPuT3Jxu6WQzNVvmnpw56Bn1KWMJmMvE-LyghSHf4sIVXSPgQnXDecZPm5_XxFJ_PMYr8utitO0SRoE9fAEw8nqpWngK_nhMCJlQbS0oMPClZxyxoonGU4iuUCQglOjyD6OKt7aCCE0pmn4GaaBdk6IA/s1280/Marji%20Gesick%20Checkpoint.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbL5zwCcYcSRNQx80ylNx-cldAnEUZwh187TJwPuT3Jxu6WQzNVvmnpw56Bn1KWMJmMvE-LyghSHf4sIVXSPgQnXDecZPm5_XxFJ_PMYr8utitO0SRoE9fAEw8nqpWngK_nhMCJlQbS0oMPClZxyxoonGU4iuUCQglOjyD6OKt7aCCE0pmn4GaaBdk6IA/w300-h400/Marji%20Gesick%20Checkpoint.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><p>Headed up the Hampton's, I noticed a couple fellas, with dum dum sticks in their mouths pedal by me. But that's ok, because they have MIPS helmets 😄😄😄. Now I know my mother never let me run (or bike) around with a sucker stick in my mouth ... just sayin.'</p><p>Coming off the last descent of this loop, I made a mental checklist of what I needed at my SAG stop. When I rolled in (mile 91), I put my light on my helmet, took another pee break/Chamois Butt'r reapplication, swapped bottles, and grabbed a waffle and a shot block. It was here that I finally looked at what time it was ... 7:50pm.</p><p>Riding off to start the final leg, I was getting a little chilled. Not that it was cold, but that I was feeling the fatigue monster. It also felt like someone swapped my cog and made it 2 gears harder. I had to turn my light on when I hit Dirty Mary. Even though both this trail and the following, the Luge Run constantly climbing, at least they looked flat, and I just kept it one pedal stroke at a time. As long as I didn't look up and see the string of lights high above me!</p><p>Grandview was another trail that tried to demoralize me. I think the rocks grow at night, as I did not remember this one being so difficult. AM-FM was where the next checkpoint was; once again I grabbed two Dum Dum's. </p><p>After this, it seemed that the remainder of the course was all climbing. And the further along I got, the slicker the rocks and roots became. I stopped twice where people had set up aid stations and grabbed a banana each time. I had barely touched my drinks and my food. At this point, my stomach had shut the door and I was ready to be done.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRM2mNaxhRMtKBfLb-NlbTJbHIdDoj80S14MZ1l05lx1IQQgx5HlCiE9TUy7iTPsJjXJliwwBW-8FW3MX3uYWU6wuedzY7ib248tNhFDOiA-2d-0QBaLVGkC_dGSojCyeN-KXl7XGM9K-nH7AwG51hC5AkPb_8-g7DTjH7Tx2BRZ7VaEp0L65K3V1-QKY/s2048/Marji%20Gesick%20Rock%20Slab%20hill.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRM2mNaxhRMtKBfLb-NlbTJbHIdDoj80S14MZ1l05lx1IQQgx5HlCiE9TUy7iTPsJjXJliwwBW-8FW3MX3uYWU6wuedzY7ib248tNhFDOiA-2d-0QBaLVGkC_dGSojCyeN-KXl7XGM9K-nH7AwG51hC5AkPb_8-g7DTjH7Tx2BRZ7VaEp0L65K3V1-QKY/w300-h400/Marji%20Gesick%20Rock%20Slab%20hill.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Old 56 just about broke me; such insane grades and my glutes were screaming. My butt usually does not get sore, but I suppose it had something to do with the many dismounts/remounts as well as more time spent HAB'ing. I was never so happy to see Cry Baby!</p><p>The usual finish off Cry Baby down to Bluff Street had to be re routed due to a sink hole on Bluff in that area. So instead of a final descent down to pavement, I found myself doing a 180 and climbing right back up that shit I had just descended. And that final descent down to Hill Street was sketcy AF! Probably a good thing my night vision isn't that good.</p><p>Over and up Jasper Knob to grab the final Dum Dum. And then a final easy spin/coast to the finish. I arrived just past midnight and the number of people lining the chute and beating on the boards to rally me in was icing on the cake. What a fantastic journey! 16 hours, 35 minutes. By no means my fastest, but hands down my second favorite Marji (the first being my very first one in 2016).</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs69cT4zawjhTpdbZOEXH3agT2rSuicoLEPO43VeeQjSEN_kFwOOzq6c_0Xe0x3COpYzThb5SUrgeahCYhrzOrXufOq8fkRKtoQYnd1BOMzCdUX7HfDtNgER_NjMXpvNEhySU0msvANU05T5_IK7XTH26PgaZ7Gh5rAx8BFmfbYAc2cnABnEZIrXb4Rvo/s4032/Marji%20Gesick%20Tokens%20and%20dollar%20bill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs69cT4zawjhTpdbZOEXH3agT2rSuicoLEPO43VeeQjSEN_kFwOOzq6c_0Xe0x3COpYzThb5SUrgeahCYhrzOrXufOq8fkRKtoQYnd1BOMzCdUX7HfDtNgER_NjMXpvNEhySU0msvANU05T5_IK7XTH26PgaZ7Gh5rAx8BFmfbYAc2cnABnEZIrXb4Rvo/w300-h400/Marji%20Gesick%20Tokens%20and%20dollar%20bill.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>I pulled out my fire ball and 3 Dum Dum's and presented them to the "token" checker. I didn't even realize the Dum Dum sticks were different colors. I was handed my wooden tokens. Todd greeted me and handed me a dollar bill as I was the first female single speeder. </p><p>My biggest take aways from racing this on my single speed were that I found 17 "free" miles and it allowed me to focus less on pushing hard all the time and more on enjoying my surroundings.</p><p>Thanks Todd and Danny for creating this unique event and allowing me to continue to #dohardthings and #findnewlimits. Even though I am a #finisher, I still have #unfinishedbusiness. About 250 miles, to be exact.</p><p>Let the training for 2024 commence, once I feel human again.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoOXRWQyrCkn0FgV5KzeLF36FCuCIqnJDVAYMEpVGQrS3dI_dfONbPlO9Pu4W7n7t07seqqOOr2bwgZqpUnj1HAJkivG130LYSxQXfu3P-ySwJtDqu8FRXpwNr6oxu7hUGqPjNLrkDw-ijIWVNd2JcuWQ3iDucPEokTZnglATyrKGzGtrUubKCoBv2frM/s1170/Marji%20Gesick%20TP%20Score.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="798" data-original-width="1170" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoOXRWQyrCkn0FgV5KzeLF36FCuCIqnJDVAYMEpVGQrS3dI_dfONbPlO9Pu4W7n7t07seqqOOr2bwgZqpUnj1HAJkivG130LYSxQXfu3P-ySwJtDqu8FRXpwNr6oxu7hUGqPjNLrkDw-ijIWVNd2JcuWQ3iDucPEokTZnglATyrKGzGtrUubKCoBv2frM/s320/Marji%20Gesick%20TP%20Score.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div></div></div>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-88806106355572840362023-09-07T16:46:00.001-04:002023-09-07T16:46:21.250-04:00Flatlick 50 Race Report<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6rZmWb7VuovxV_d9ZFUclWZgHwaqCBqR62LQqjmpu3f1wnPzflFOgrs3r_pS1JVASMTE1XZBUEU_sbNfxMF_iOEfFFVYLZpbq1UQjXGx31D2s2L4znWgt6gOJ2YXEhq7zDpsD_dXKQweyI3bZamH4LXRAcDg2IFmD2Db0MeCZ5lftrjyZq8qgijM4DTw/s4032/Flatlick%2050%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6rZmWb7VuovxV_d9ZFUclWZgHwaqCBqR62LQqjmpu3f1wnPzflFOgrs3r_pS1JVASMTE1XZBUEU_sbNfxMF_iOEfFFVYLZpbq1UQjXGx31D2s2L4znWgt6gOJ2YXEhq7zDpsD_dXKQweyI3bZamH4LXRAcDg2IFmD2Db0MeCZ5lftrjyZq8qgijM4DTw/w300-h400/Flatlick%2050%202.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sniper</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>It was good to get back to one of Keith Cottingim's BoonDoggle events in Kentucky. I love the grassroots feel of these low key events. It would also be a good tune up for Gravel Worlds, which was just 2 weeks after. The Flatlick 50 is a revised edition of the Kentucky Gravel Championships, which I did back in 2019 and 2020. It kept all the good parts (with a few sections in reverse), left out the Horselick Mud Slog, and added a new section. It was still a mixed surface, what with some doozy double track interspersed between sweet gravel and smooth pavement.</p><p>With less enhancements and 18 miles of pavement, I chose to ride my Trek CheckPoint with 40mm Bontrager GR1's. Starting temperature was right at 70 degrees. It was a 3 mile neutral roll out, which I like because then I don't have to do a warm up. Once we turned left off of Hwy 421, the race began. There were still a few rolling miles of pavement left, and I settled quickly and by myself. There were only 21 racers, 2 being women, so I treated this race as an ITT and wasn't going to worry about my overall position.</p><p>Mill Creek was a new section of gravel which I absolutely loved. What with little gravel and a hard base, it was fast. This dumped me out onto Hwy 290, where the first climb of the day was, a little over a mile. Legs were feeling darn good! Making short work of this climb, I continued to fly along the next section of gravel, Indian Ridge Road. I caught back up to Spaz (John Switow) here and sat on his wheel. Gotta practice drafting for Gravel Worlds!</p><p>After 4 miles of buttery goodness, the spiciness began as we hit the double track descent down to Hwy 89. John let me go ahead and I just let Sniper do all the work. It wasn't as chewed up as I remember, but there were still a few off-camber slick spots where I did some "white knuckling." I managed to pass a couple racers (one being Jordan's Dad) here.</p><p>But once I hit the pavement, they soon caught back up. Perfect! I tucked in behind them for some free speed. This 6 miles was flat, so it was good to hide from the wind. The next gravel section was S Tree Lookout Tower Road. In KGC, I came down this. Now I was going up, the first mile of which was pretty steep. The next 3 miles was a more favorable grade. The legs were still spry, so I alternated between seated and standing. </p><p>At the top was the first manned aid station (mile 21). I stopped and let the volunteers refill one bottle while I inhaled a gel. I commended them on a less than 10 second pit stop and hit the next section with renewed vigor. Man, I was feeling, dare I say, sparkly?</p><p>The next section was a 10 mile loop, most of which was fast gravel. I managed to catch back up to a racer who dropped me on the steep climb prior to the aid station. Here we traded pulls along the rolling S Tree Road. </p><p>As we turned onto the Carpenter Ridge descent, several side by sides were behind us. We stopped to let them go by on this double track steep muddy descent (I had climbed this during KGC). That was a mistake, as they were slower than us ... WTH? Frustration was quickly replaced by gratitude, as when something happens that I get mad about, I tell myself that this is probably a blessing in disguise. As in this case, it probably saved me from crashing, breaking my body, and missing the remainder of the season.</p><p>Once it flattened out, the side by sides were gone. The other fella fell back once we began climbing up Sheltowee Trace. At the top I stopped at the same aid station (this time, mile 33) and filled one bottle for the final push. Lear Road was a 2.5 mile double track section that started off semi-smooth, but then became a bit gnarly towards the bottom. Several mud holes of unknown depth I walked around, not wishing to potentially sink up to my hubs. This dumped me back out onto Hwy 89 for a short bit back to the Indian Ridge double track. </p><p>As I began the climb, I heard thunder close by. Uh oh! I had noticed the clouds were rolling in and the temps dropping, but now what I did not want was for it to rain on this section as well as the final miles of gravel. So I asked the legs for a little more and they obliged. I did end up HAB'ing a short 10 yard section, as it was not worth the risk of my wheels sliding out over the off camber mud and roots. </p><p>Finally I hit the smooth gravel of Indian Ridge and was able to put the hammer down. The thunder was getting louder and more frequent. I flew down the Hwy 290 descent (which I had climbed earlier that day) and then rode back up Mill Creek. </p><p>As I turned off Mill Creek back onto pavement for the final 8 miles, it began to rain. Lightly at first which felt good. With about 3 miles to go the heavens opened up, the wind began whipping, and lightning was dancing all around me. Shite! I no longer felt tired as the surge of adrenaline fueled my legs for the final minutes. Those pavement kickers could not even slow me down. </p><p>I crossed the finish line in 3:58, first woman, and accomplishing my goal of a sub-4 hour time. It rained for another 30 minutes or so, which helped to clean the grime off my bike. That was nice, as I had to load it back into John's van and did not want to trash his vehicle. There were showers at the Flatlick campground, which felt oh so good. And then I was treated to 2 hearty hamburgers, prepared by Keith's family.</p><p>Such a fun course. A healthy and interspersed mix of varying terrain and surfaces. I never got "bored" by it. A few hearty climbs to punish the legs and some spicey double track to keep my skills honed. Just wish I knew how to get more peeps to attend this event. Cost to play is relatively cheap, the course was well marked, the aid stations stocked well, and the volunteers were on their game to get you in/out quickly. I cannot say enough about how well this event was run.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg2MM9Id6V_LoLhHksnYVXre7f0E35VSLEKv6xobwGJFvFjT30RRCDqV5OscloWIH764xl5FzXk2qasKLs_GyGWd1y-SkPzHGc9stHKpkg58BLb3HDMe8ocqu5a0WmysiV5CpH-tPKCPFvHJS2xB_eXcg7FzkvB1rvuK9NxgiM9HudrBfmPpdG1unAnIU/s3024/Flatlick%2050%20trophy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1670" data-original-width="3024" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg2MM9Id6V_LoLhHksnYVXre7f0E35VSLEKv6xobwGJFvFjT30RRCDqV5OscloWIH764xl5FzXk2qasKLs_GyGWd1y-SkPzHGc9stHKpkg58BLb3HDMe8ocqu5a0WmysiV5CpH-tPKCPFvHJS2xB_eXcg7FzkvB1rvuK9NxgiM9HudrBfmPpdG1unAnIU/w400-h221/Flatlick%2050%20trophy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-23547955730741821482023-08-30T13:33:00.004-04:002023-08-30T13:33:33.151-04:00Gravel Worlds Race Report<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL47ZNfQ1_t-4NUy8U3P4amET9YuuDSw0qRIYJpRbpWprCDxnGP-18v5cOakEagW7c0FJoRtjjBq5BClzQpGu7QS3ucoswi9R7syWhurdPLXUqYrgeugtXI-H5TjWpvyxaxLVrxNS0ivrD-LoQqxsWYzmxaBuif15s8kwm3OwYR6Z4P0J1A78p1UGT0Ng/s4032/Gravel%20Worlds%20Number%20Plate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL47ZNfQ1_t-4NUy8U3P4amET9YuuDSw0qRIYJpRbpWprCDxnGP-18v5cOakEagW7c0FJoRtjjBq5BClzQpGu7QS3ucoswi9R7syWhurdPLXUqYrgeugtXI-H5TjWpvyxaxLVrxNS0ivrD-LoQqxsWYzmxaBuif15s8kwm3OwYR6Z4P0J1A78p1UGT0Ng/w300-h400/Gravel%20Worlds%20Number%20Plate.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sniper held up her end all day long</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>As I enter my 4th day of "bike hangover," I will try to put thoughts to "paper." This BDR really whooped my ass, but my recovery has not been ideal either (15 hour drive home plus 2 ten hour days at work). </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Se7GsU8qjdMDfxNcJLWtBii2A2-pApoXIxOt8ozwuty1TEZ3WML37lCfcIIHsU457ld8lLW49P0xPelFFMhVpSZ7NOLzTNjvuPG78Cjl7FzKZPKw5gtsTWfUt740rkJ9wen2WLoggDoMUZGedsMioe-n1AHnH0wlVk1Lyfm-TclY7OZzDWFLFsNmi6w/s3088/Gravel%20Worlds%20Gravel%20Family%20Sign%20with%20John%20and%20I.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Se7GsU8qjdMDfxNcJLWtBii2A2-pApoXIxOt8ozwuty1TEZ3WML37lCfcIIHsU457ld8lLW49P0xPelFFMhVpSZ7NOLzTNjvuPG78Cjl7FzKZPKw5gtsTWfUt740rkJ9wen2WLoggDoMUZGedsMioe-n1AHnH0wlVk1Lyfm-TclY7OZzDWFLFsNmi6w/w300-h400/Gravel%20Worlds%20Gravel%20Family%20Sign%20with%20John%20and%20I.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOPxzwTe4ItRO2tzGG_MvcOnz0Dl6m7t9TPeWoZu7HbMhQ5YOx0vqPKALhOyKvhzkCszkxJ0nIXIhqRoFOxOj2M9XVY30F8C2YJebitWwEg1cV40BNI5W8QvZ0ZewoltdSzJw-_g7m2fMaHqH9M_DqzGHUsPKrqIYakYNq79SmNUdJX9bOJQXOOKN2Y10/s4032/Gravel%20Worlds%20Gravel%20Family%20Sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOPxzwTe4ItRO2tzGG_MvcOnz0Dl6m7t9TPeWoZu7HbMhQ5YOx0vqPKALhOyKvhzkCszkxJ0nIXIhqRoFOxOj2M9XVY30F8C2YJebitWwEg1cV40BNI5W8QvZ0ZewoltdSzJw-_g7m2fMaHqH9M_DqzGHUsPKrqIYakYNq79SmNUdJX9bOJQXOOKN2Y10/s320/Gravel%20Worlds%20Gravel%20Family%20Sign.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>I raced this last year and got 3rd age group, despite a navigational error that cost me 60 minutes and gave me 17 bonus miles. So this year I was back for redemption. I also got John to join me with the allure of miles and miles of gravel seas through the countryside and farmlands surrounding Lincoln, Nebraska.</p><p>We arrived two days early so that we could check out the start and the finish. Boy, it was hot! 100+ degrees and the gravel was dusty! The gravel here is small pea gravel/sand mixture.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiATAfYYxcj8UKijwK-51RPSoasZSLdZv6HhP7ARWTBYSzVjmetqCLAjozm3s8oUY13g68UnIRawNh5iZ496ye7w_UwuvDntmieBC9fhgOpV_zHpViz0YuLovdr81hRYdBH2Zg8qgYBVGUv1NtsokW11se0Q1yDc1wvJfmpVEmdCrbOfoTHukFV-EOZLQI/s4032/Gravel%20Worlds%20Grader.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiATAfYYxcj8UKijwK-51RPSoasZSLdZv6HhP7ARWTBYSzVjmetqCLAjozm3s8oUY13g68UnIRawNh5iZ496ye7w_UwuvDntmieBC9fhgOpV_zHpViz0YuLovdr81hRYdBH2Zg8qgYBVGUv1NtsokW11se0Q1yDc1wvJfmpVEmdCrbOfoTHukFV-EOZLQI/w300-h400/Gravel%20Worlds%20Grader.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nice of them to stir it up for us.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p>There was also an air show happening the same weekend, so while we were pre-riding, the Blue Angels entertained us. It gave me goosebumps to see them in action!</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbo56xPy8MLrsnNsZje72KdXUSTvXujjr-dWRCr9MkLUCluPIpLWsutQ7ZFzxy17lLYkRJ_eaZdX9xr7CWEbIjOVJq2ExEo2m9O4m6fOrzQFeAV2dvEFBs-lAUFCVn8oemG9pw7rG7yBP0VYNNXBIx8oDlvjrWh4jp0Ahu0Iur11ADy6666uFnc9n0yCw/s1957/Gravel%20Worlds%20Blue%20Angels.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1957" data-original-width="1344" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbo56xPy8MLrsnNsZje72KdXUSTvXujjr-dWRCr9MkLUCluPIpLWsutQ7ZFzxy17lLYkRJ_eaZdX9xr7CWEbIjOVJq2ExEo2m9O4m6fOrzQFeAV2dvEFBs-lAUFCVn8oemG9pw7rG7yBP0VYNNXBIx8oDlvjrWh4jp0Ahu0Iur11ADy6666uFnc9n0yCw/w275-h400/Gravel%20Worlds%20Blue%20Angels.jpg" width="275" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>My bike was a Trek CheckPoint with Bontrager 40mm GR1's. Drivetrain was SRAM AXS with a 36T chainring and a 10-52 cassette. I chose to not use a hydration pack and ran 2 28 ounce bottles.</p><p>Friday night we went to bed knowing that there was a 40% chance of rain. Always the optimist, I figured it would be just enough to settle the dust and looseness of the gravel. Well, those thoughts changed when I was rudely awakened to thunder and rain beating against the hotel window. In 3 hours, Lincoln was hit with 2 1/2 inches of rain! Aye yai yai!</p><p>The organizers decided in the early morning hours to re-route the first B-road at mile 12'ish. They sent out an email with a new GPX track. And for those that did not see it, they had volunteers at all the turns along the re-route. I commend them for making this last minute decision. It took NOTHING away from the difficulty of this event, but saved everyone's bike and probably a few souls.</p><p>It was still raining at the start and the temperature was a chilly 69 degrees. I kept a plastic trash bag on just until go time. John had a little mishap when half of his nutrition fell into the porta potty as he was making race weight. He told me he actually thought of retrieving it ... if only for a second. 😆😆😆 </p><p>Start time was 6 am, so I ran a Bontrager Ion 200 RT. It didn't throw much light, but I was counting on being close enough to others. I did not want to lug around a larger light for 10+ hours when the sun would be up in 20 minutes.</p><p>The start on pavement was neutral until the gravel. I was motoring along at a fast pace and then hit the gravel mush. The water does not run off the roads here like back home, but rather the fine gravel/sand/dirt mixture soaked it up like a sponge. My speed was immediately cut in half as I entered the chocolate smoothie and I had to back off the wheels of those ahead of me. Now it was all about surviving and keeping forward momentum as I slipped and slided my way through the next 3 1/2 hours of hellacious kilojoule-sapping mire. More than once I thought about just tucking tail and turning back, after seeing many people off their bikes looking at their drivetrains and playing with their chains. </p><p>But Sniper, my steed, was plowing through this like a champ. I was having zero drive train issues. My brakes were taking a beating, as the road grime was splashing up on the rotors and wearing down my brake pads, even though I hardly used them. I kept telling myself that it is going to get better and faster and that everyone is in the same boat. The rains eventually stopped and the sun came out. The roads were still sludge, but I knew eventually they would dry out and the fast lines would reappear. I tried not to spend too many matches, but sometimes it was all I could do just to keep the bike moving forward on some of the climbs. Many were walking.</p><p>The conditions didn't allow for groups to form and I spent 90% of the race riding alone. The headwinds were not brutal, but still pretty harsh at 15mph. There was a decent amount of cloud cover and the winds were cool all day. I found a small group of 3 that I kinda hung with for a few miles until the first oasis (water stop) at mile 32. Their pace was inconsistent so I was unable to get the full benefit of the draft, but every little bit helped. And one of the guys had Pandora playing, so that was nice.</p><p>I had one of the volunteers fill a bottle for me, which took less than 20 seconds and I was on my way. The group I had been with broke up and once again I was on my own. When I went to get a swig of water from my bottle, it squirted out all over me. The volunteer had cross-threaded the lid! Not wanting to stop and waste time, I was able to nurse the remaining water out of the bottle and not lose any more.</p><p>I hit the checkpoint at mile 54. There was a short, 0.4 mile cross course I had to do, including riding through a barn, before I hit the aid station. Last year it took 3:25 to go 54 miles; this year, 4:30. I was over an hour behind last year's time. Here I took a pee break while volunteers filled my bottles. Fortunately there was not much grit/muck in my chamois, but I still took the time to re apply some Chamois Butt'r. Stopped time at this CP was 4 minutes.</p><p>Leaving the CP, the gravel was indeed drying out and I was elated to see my average speed increase. There were still some slow going miles, but for the most part, the slurry riding was over. However, within a few miles I turned right and headed North, into a heinous headwind, for 5 miles. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqYZmm0k0QSTGkM85oqVKo8oJ7bFWRv7EdxrIqwwdiCBiz4TktqKQan2tBkDs3LGbTMqPdnL33pYd4KI4mbbzRjT4Huwk_Nrn4OmNXwfJwvRrqnCMC_ss5-vXpNgByE_cYC-gAW9aFUI4AzyiQrEylpNn5wbjC7jB8Wptnj-BlpFjvyBGycaklsCgGrBE/s4032/Gravel%20Worlds%20North%20into%20a%20headwind.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqYZmm0k0QSTGkM85oqVKo8oJ7bFWRv7EdxrIqwwdiCBiz4TktqKQan2tBkDs3LGbTMqPdnL33pYd4KI4mbbzRjT4Huwk_Nrn4OmNXwfJwvRrqnCMC_ss5-vXpNgByE_cYC-gAW9aFUI4AzyiQrEylpNn5wbjC7jB8Wptnj-BlpFjvyBGycaklsCgGrBE/w300-h400/Gravel%20Worlds%20North%20into%20a%20headwind.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>North of Lincoln, the area is called the Bohemian Alps, named after the Czech immigrants who settled here. Full of rolling hills, one after another after another. None are long, but all are steep. This year's course, compared to last year's, had more of this. The first half of the course was mainly a northerly or westerly direction. And with a headwind, they are brutal. I was grateful for having banked so many singlespeed miles up in Michigan last month, as I felt I had the strength to hit these hills harder out of the saddle than seated.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIbIE8O7SzjQptXf1aGrpwUnLOTc9v7qfS5rk8-qDFz3DTODkTgUxiRKmN5hHx-eBpUCb_dSo8KBxfR2xexogfD8frvOSdGy6wXorg50MWD5VBp46GERIkwPDhIQ2KuIbg5bx5PerrD9jn0hoY8Af33In7fXIe1vNYUoDPc3tkbYnrj2XYDI5TqheGp0/s2048/372863034_10227404134822638_7438840005016926014_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIbIE8O7SzjQptXf1aGrpwUnLOTc9v7qfS5rk8-qDFz3DTODkTgUxiRKmN5hHx-eBpUCb_dSo8KBxfR2xexogfD8frvOSdGy6wXorg50MWD5VBp46GERIkwPDhIQ2KuIbg5bx5PerrD9jn0hoY8Af33In7fXIe1vNYUoDPc3tkbYnrj2XYDI5TqheGp0/w400-h300/372863034_10227404134822638_7438840005016926014_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Death by a thousand rollers</td></tr></tbody></table><br />As I rolled through a little town called Brainard, I found a well spigot near a park. Knowing two bottles would not last to the next CP (mile 110), I stopped and topped off mine. There was a c-store at mile 88, but I did not want to waste time ... I was on a mission.<div><br /></div><div>The course turned south and I had free speed for 6 miles. The ground was also firm; seeing speeds of 20+ mph made me happy! I hit the first B-road around mile 70 and I felt like I was on a single track ribbon of dark chocolate. There was a 18 inch wide path of firm ground on this road, but to either side it was sticky mud. As long as I held the line, I was fine. It was groovy!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkGFAi86eNUfPOA3q3XJ6bsSMYleCFPRf30Q9tVePBEWvbjsVSoJfdX8sJkPNUhjSly-h3WgkuXk9ArqKisE80lmy97kQHHf3VJAGOCTzIK1PJA0wXOXuB3qkuvkdKJkjeSHgfkmW6qwoRmaSD0NI2aCZvPEbzZrw7K5ZFZclhNNuoa00wy_tlH3qyvxQ/s4032/Gravel%20Worlds%20B-Road%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkGFAi86eNUfPOA3q3XJ6bsSMYleCFPRf30Q9tVePBEWvbjsVSoJfdX8sJkPNUhjSly-h3WgkuXk9ArqKisE80lmy97kQHHf3VJAGOCTzIK1PJA0wXOXuB3qkuvkdKJkjeSHgfkmW6qwoRmaSD0NI2aCZvPEbzZrw7K5ZFZclhNNuoa00wy_tlH3qyvxQ/w300-h400/Gravel%20Worlds%20B-Road%202.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>The course from here generally headed east with some southerly bits where I got to enjoy the tailwind. I was even grateful for the crosswinds because the day was beginning to heat up by now, but the winds were still cool. Miles 80 -100 were the hardest for me, as I was beginning to tire from the monotony. But this is also where I engaged my mental game. I smiled and gave words of encouragement as I passed those who had passed me earlier in the day. Most were grateful; a few were rather irritated that an old lady was "chicking" them. I also began to smile outwards and say out loud what I was grateful for. All these tactics made it easier on the legs and the mind.</div><div><br /></div><div>I hit the second checkpoint (mile 108) in 8:37. Here it was a rinse and repeat of the first CP, which also took a little over 4 minutes. Only 42 to go; just get through the next 25, I told myself, as the remaining 17 are all downhill (and with a tailwind). I passed a few young bucks through the grassy field leaving the CP. They apparently did not like this, as they caught back up to me in the next few miles. I hopped onto their train, but after a few minutes, it was harder than I could manage, and I did not want an epic meltdown so close to the finish. So I let them go.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I hit two more B-roads, both of which were the dark chocolate ribbons of fastness! I thoroughly enjoyed these roads and were grateful they had a dry track. But from what I heard, the front runners entered it while it was still wet and sticky. See, some times it pays to be slow!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidR0NOGDrstZiXcf-bI4yTqv2Eu4njupQpXHGG_aRGN4e1rwRH7BzAsQkEljR8DoCbtQ4M7j10UZs2NQS44XYjkJNfp6NUBldYFr2zBzk0L7HyPSYUXovxztzQrxutVqFmAKsZmIuHReSZncwu-VHqZKu16nkjMARvMaZT_YG1SC16JfJBzF-7ukrdtWE/s4032/Gravel%20Worlds%20B-Road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidR0NOGDrstZiXcf-bI4yTqv2Eu4njupQpXHGG_aRGN4e1rwRH7BzAsQkEljR8DoCbtQ4M7j10UZs2NQS44XYjkJNfp6NUBldYFr2zBzk0L7HyPSYUXovxztzQrxutVqFmAKsZmIuHReSZncwu-VHqZKu16nkjMARvMaZT_YG1SC16JfJBzF-7ukrdtWE/w300-h400/Gravel%20Worlds%20B-Road.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>At about mile 130, I caught the boys, who were now on the struggle bus, having expended all their matches. "Toodles, kiddos" I thought to myself. I had no intention of slowing up and allowing them to hop aboard my train after they dropped me like a bad habit after that last CP.</div><div><br /></div><div>The last 20 miles seemed to fly by; it might have something to do with the 200mg caffeine pill I took at the last CP as well as the 3 gels I had consumed, each having an additional 90mg of caffeine. Vroom vroom! My effort may not have been any harder, but it sure felt easier!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_ivBXrEb6mCbvkA4m-v9ckqDV3658fJ-Nm0bedByQis5fWgUVNrQfIEaKw0wRjLKz3Tg8Ixva1ml5ts844KybufkZB12vkdyi8rucF_saoVaurImJk6fw9hyLTkXMxYBVG9WvMQVUzBSOcGWdIYKX0lU4gbClIAk7sPoVFGpYYCUpi-LLF7tLm_rGIM/s3088/Gravel%20Worlds%20Selfie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_ivBXrEb6mCbvkA4m-v9ckqDV3658fJ-Nm0bedByQis5fWgUVNrQfIEaKw0wRjLKz3Tg8Ixva1ml5ts844KybufkZB12vkdyi8rucF_saoVaurImJk6fw9hyLTkXMxYBVG9WvMQVUzBSOcGWdIYKX0lU4gbClIAk7sPoVFGpYYCUpi-LLF7tLm_rGIM/w300-h400/Gravel%20Worlds%20Selfie.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Once I hit the final small town around mile 142, I could smell the barn. The corn fields were whipping on by and the tailwind made for an easy 8 miles. Now, my thoughts were, was it good enough for first? I rolled under the finishing banner in 11:34. Jason Strohbehn (the face of Gravel Worlds) was there to give me a fist bump. Volunteers handed me an ice cold Coke and a wet towel. I made my way over to the sidewalk, gently laid down Sniper, and then plopped my weary ass down. I was spent! I left it all out there and had no regrets! What a challenging and rewarding day! I am so grateful I have the ability to do these crazy events. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhna7lzj8xCoDnnkdo9_xCSDbshiy_LcNRdkkDbgf2JK_SouUsyzjQ8K6mv-dq3F3zgiLtWws7zRQNACLpItqiJUs60tKmPIv3hh3GYYcdQmN_kitQrC1di3UuH2WNPI0sNVPNCqPmLmQwll1SdmCSbT4Ai5P4HElLvquG5EpKUpdx2IZDrJ9CI7QimL8o/s4032/Gravel%20Worlds%20Finish%20Selfie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhna7lzj8xCoDnnkdo9_xCSDbshiy_LcNRdkkDbgf2JK_SouUsyzjQ8K6mv-dq3F3zgiLtWws7zRQNACLpItqiJUs60tKmPIv3hh3GYYcdQmN_kitQrC1di3UuH2WNPI0sNVPNCqPmLmQwll1SdmCSbT4Ai5P4HElLvquG5EpKUpdx2IZDrJ9CI7QimL8o/w300-h400/Gravel%20Worlds%20Finish%20Selfie.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtCA4YcAG7h0Ua8QXBksqN193OV_JwBbjXRQ3Lkq6F_NP7b4ng4tOIPsIuAV-eMC5OfmnA4oHApDU8HIwnUAOjEemUEuOV04zNYEd3F31FY-KvpmJd7xIhoe41Eya3y2XYMz3QZwWANW722wKhfTPXThhKddnm504KnREnmWoAGOCM6Z9_PuIEFBgVAk/s4032/Gravel%20Worlds%20Finish%20Banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtCA4YcAG7h0Ua8QXBksqN193OV_JwBbjXRQ3Lkq6F_NP7b4ng4tOIPsIuAV-eMC5OfmnA4oHApDU8HIwnUAOjEemUEuOV04zNYEd3F31FY-KvpmJd7xIhoe41Eya3y2XYMz3QZwWANW722wKhfTPXThhKddnm504KnREnmWoAGOCM6Z9_PuIEFBgVAk/w300-h400/Gravel%20Worlds%20Finish%20Banner.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>While the course may not be as "fun" and have as much eye candy as what I ride back home, I love the vibes of Gravel Worlds and how no one is more important than another. We are all equal here! The race organizers are wonderful people and have their shit dialed! They work tirelessly for days to make sure our experience is a positive one.</div><div><br /></div><div>Mother Nature sure through a curve ball, and I almost knocked it out of the park. I ended up 2nd in the 50-59 category, 11th woman, and 75th overall. </div><div><br /></div><div>By the numbers:</div><div> Normalized Power Average Speed</div><div>First 52 miles<span> </span><span> </span><span> <span> </span><span> 147<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> 11.9</span></span></span></div><div>Middle 56 miles<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> 134<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> 13.6</span></span></div><div>Final 42 miles<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> 132<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> 14.5</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div>BTW, after getting home and tending to my bike, I have no parts to replace. Thank you Gravel World organizers for making a good decision and saving close to a 1/2 million in bike repairs.</div><div><br /><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div></div>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-19649659702957231862023-07-19T19:39:00.001-04:002023-07-19T19:39:15.671-04:00Dirty 130<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipboGZ3qra6aYJXqgNA0-YU9XgxUhuDYl4zY54ixEl5pAkwSpfY9Mk32FDGA_WdsiWH7-nvjfJOscsKcZKQDDcXLbTixdSBeNzI6B5RKJniz8_fPK7NzB-ZenLYekUIUg88jnqBL-NFTuOznQO_aIjyw74vIgnugPf1kbtZQPuyjlSAEGNoJvrvXedvoo/s4032/D130%20sunrise.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipboGZ3qra6aYJXqgNA0-YU9XgxUhuDYl4zY54ixEl5pAkwSpfY9Mk32FDGA_WdsiWH7-nvjfJOscsKcZKQDDcXLbTixdSBeNzI6B5RKJniz8_fPK7NzB-ZenLYekUIUg88jnqBL-NFTuOznQO_aIjyw74vIgnugPf1kbtZQPuyjlSAEGNoJvrvXedvoo/w400-h300/D130%20sunrise.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Always love the pre dawn starts</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>Hi. I am Carey and I am a bikealholic.</p><p>I have done this race/ITT 5 times now. I could probably just cut and paste from my previous reports. Even though the DMR YoYo was just 2 weeks ago, I decided to give it a go, as I had the opportunity in the calender to do so. I also had a camping trip with my family that started in 2 days, so I wanted to get all my "zoomies" out of me in order to not have any bike FOMO while vacationing. I invited John Switow to join in my madness, as he is a sucker for BDR's. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjQ4ntRN-GjXGstR3toxqghWPFAQ6OKSl5_eMoJNud26v7gCK8X-dQqA3docCDiS1V6ka525xLXrBspAAYengKHsoJoCwKKdLoj_SDfuYN_sWyz3mWk0ktmrR9ajeFy-K9AkCqwpeiJlsTH0U0IU6x-rYMtwKJBOltIODOPuZ0ZkEb8fWEPbg2WDJchFI/s2608/D130%20Garmin%20start.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2608" data-original-width="1883" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjQ4ntRN-GjXGstR3toxqghWPFAQ6OKSl5_eMoJNud26v7gCK8X-dQqA3docCDiS1V6ka525xLXrBspAAYengKHsoJoCwKKdLoj_SDfuYN_sWyz3mWk0ktmrR9ajeFy-K9AkCqwpeiJlsTH0U0IU6x-rYMtwKJBOltIODOPuZ0ZkEb8fWEPbg2WDJchFI/w289-h400/D130%20Garmin%20start.jpg" width="289" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Must document start and finish</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>This is the first time I chose to ride my Niner Air9 RDO. The combination of age and route deterioration had me wanting bigger tires and front suspension. The time I figured I would lose on the road sections would well be made back by the comfort over the long haul and on the fast chunky descents. I rode Maxxis Ramblers 50mm. I chose 2 28 ounce water bottles and was able to put all my nutrition and tools on my bike (Revelate Designs feedbag and Oveja Negro top tube bag).</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpVVKXSnk1f7UbmPKsC_l5C8h_ToJV1vILD6-KNYeLuWRvOMevhbOOlo8YJBVWfldkwmv5ZCcK4Lk82Wwkl-vuxyUweTUFwTqWFveVmT38sb8M10zP_PmCDt1ZQoI1qOz13WxINuYGjN3XUnkR7zmvPntkvsACkKDqkAPXcCWGSa3R0dTYUYafEWVEqn8/s4032/IMG_0186.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpVVKXSnk1f7UbmPKsC_l5C8h_ToJV1vILD6-KNYeLuWRvOMevhbOOlo8YJBVWfldkwmv5ZCcK4Lk82Wwkl-vuxyUweTUFwTqWFveVmT38sb8M10zP_PmCDt1ZQoI1qOz13WxINuYGjN3XUnkR7zmvPntkvsACkKDqkAPXcCWGSa3R0dTYUYafEWVEqn8/w300-h400/IMG_0186.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Even though we started at the same time, I made sure to follow the rules set forth by Kim Murrell and TennesseeGravel.com. The only thing we shared was conversation. </p><p>It was a muggy 68 degrees at the start (dew point of 70). Highs were expected in the upper 80's, with only a slight chance of showers (which I was hoping for). As we began the 10 mile climb up Kimsey Mountain Hwy (FS 68), the legs felt surprisingly good, not sparkly, but way better than I had expected. However, what I wasn't expecting was lower back pain halfway up the climb. I already knew this might be a problem, as I had woken up to my usual stiff lower back. Normally, I try to avoid NSAID/s the day of a big ride/race, but I took 2 Aleve.</p><p>Occasionally I would stand and pedal, which alleviated the pain. I was hoping that my back would sort itself out over the next hour, because there was no way I could handle this amount of discomfort all day. The sunrise was spectacular as I crested the climb. The beauty of these mountains surrounded me in comfort and awe and I descended Smith (FS 80) with gratitude, for my ability to play these games. Smith had gotten some "love" earlier this year, but Mother Nature was determined to take it back to its chunkified state. It was nice to descend this rowdy section on my Niner.</p><p>On the way over to Lost Creek, my back kept getting angrier. Part of me was beginning to have thoughts of pulling the plug once I hit Hwy 30, but the mental game was strong and the other part of me just said to give it some more time. Since the legs were feeling well, I stood and pedaled quite a bit on this section over to Webb Store.</p><p>Stopping at Webb's, I pee'd, refilled my bottles, and then stretched for 5 minutes while I waited on John to do his thing. That helped some and then we were off to Hambright Road. Once the pavement turned to two-track, then to single track, I weaved my way around the mud and downed trees.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj54bR44-o_jSf4j0fFA28VJrqJyx7mdzzG83ghPioVpV0uoKF5rdl6v_UMWotN-ATIiqptHrpxKxUZOGNHrPRceQ_Vgl3-RsPCUS7ItfJvY03IPrSOtWNiP50Lexth79nb7CThWKcIzhAi82cQ4cF-5e6Gs3cQTUbTJyerI06MVKStrueVefyeCxYn-YA/s2048/358635218_10227079177898918_257060852959398248_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj54bR44-o_jSf4j0fFA28VJrqJyx7mdzzG83ghPioVpV0uoKF5rdl6v_UMWotN-ATIiqptHrpxKxUZOGNHrPRceQ_Vgl3-RsPCUS7ItfJvY03IPrSOtWNiP50Lexth79nb7CThWKcIzhAi82cQ4cF-5e6Gs3cQTUbTJyerI06MVKStrueVefyeCxYn-YA/w400-h300/358635218_10227079177898918_257060852959398248_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making use of my fine bushwhacking skills</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>While I have heard through the grapevine that some riders opt to walk along the railroad tracks on the gravel, go through the creek, and then continue on the railroad gravel, that is NOT the official route. FYI, the official route is on the mud-hole filled, over grown road bed, which lies 10-50 feet from the railroad. If you want an official ITT time, you must take the more difficult path.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqQJz6GcfrCOJh9wX3lUTyxj6LFkvwjCILfL86ILMzEGOTBItcwA2_S7lb2RgfoevQmzsFaOiEeFeUsnq3MYCaq8n5iIprTqHE8o9JO-00KlZObEZoM3M9KE_NNcucXMYfmYgnRtgCoU5NI3LDIyrHOZMjGB2PMtg-VwBfwMHa5OupMqCo8hVSyD894E4/s4032/D130%20John%20at%20creek%20crossing.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqQJz6GcfrCOJh9wX3lUTyxj6LFkvwjCILfL86ILMzEGOTBItcwA2_S7lb2RgfoevQmzsFaOiEeFeUsnq3MYCaq8n5iIprTqHE8o9JO-00KlZObEZoM3M9KE_NNcucXMYfmYgnRtgCoU5NI3LDIyrHOZMjGB2PMtg-VwBfwMHa5OupMqCo8hVSyD894E4/w300-h400/D130%20John%20at%20creek%20crossing.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The crossing was almost chamois-deep for me.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Climbing up Starr Mountain, I began to feel the warmth of the day, like a hot heavy blanket draped over me. My back pain came back with a vengeance, and once again those thoughts of quitting entered my mind. <i> "I could finish this gravel section and pedal on nice flat pavement back to my truck. I don't have to prove anything to anyone. Haven't I done this route enough?"</i> While these thoughts kept playing on repeat, that gritty and gristled side of me wanted to prove to my weaker side that I could endure and persevere. I told myself, just get to Coker Creek, enjoy a Coke, and stretch some more. The pain will eventually leave if it realizes it is not going to win out.</p><p>I was able to rally on the ridgeline and felt good on the gravel descent down to the pavement. I slowly pulled away from John on Ivy Trail; I think the heat was beginning to get to him. Those 10 or so miles on pavement felt so slow, probably because of the mountain bike I chose and the fact that I was thinking I should be able to go at road bike speeds.</p><p>I made it to the Coker Creek visitor center and ate a rice cake ✔, pee ✔, apply Chamois Butt'r ✔, soak head/face in sink ✔, drink Coke ✔, refill bottles ✔, stretch back ✔. I multi-tasked to be more efficient, but it was kind of hard to eat my rice cake when I was bent over touching my toes 😆. John arrived while I was almost finished and told me to go on, as he was in the middle of dealing with his own pains, cramping specifically.</p><p>That 13 minute stop was what I needed and miraculously I had no more lower back pain for the remainder of the ride. The miles over to Buck Bald were quite pleasant, as the gravel/dirt was hard packed. It was a slow go up to Buck Bald, as the heat was sweltering by now. But knowing that this was a day for adventure and not for PR's, I was in the right mindset, and I embraced the warmth.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ffcY-g33OwdjqzJhQR-EmS_bWP2zCk3zGKFkn8FPZrvUhE5m6t39VSOcuI8KGGSJxlmuq8hw-Mb2aBdJXoxragB4avuPptGYpe0WkNN1xweAS4vxrlSSAN3HIJcVHC301U3nqFf4acUoRO3idgSQOElG9iJ_kMNGIi5h1QKkrsGSpiZquj7U9HjKi2s/s4032/D130%20Buck%20Bald%20selfie.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ffcY-g33OwdjqzJhQR-EmS_bWP2zCk3zGKFkn8FPZrvUhE5m6t39VSOcuI8KGGSJxlmuq8hw-Mb2aBdJXoxragB4avuPptGYpe0WkNN1xweAS4vxrlSSAN3HIJcVHC301U3nqFf4acUoRO3idgSQOElG9iJ_kMNGIi5h1QKkrsGSpiZquj7U9HjKi2s/w300-h400/D130%20Buck%20Bald%20selfie.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Toasty!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>The 17 miles back to Reliance was tough, not gonna lie. The heat was getting oppressive and I did not want to blow a head gasket, so this was one of my slowest sections. I stopped along the Hiwassee and cooled off in Towee Creek for about 10 minutes. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNkfomBpkDCsTur4VtResENmH7I6GBLWynD6m4EFsFy8s3y_ol4tq_DzsW6lmkWIA7HNstMBy-LvuJ77RZzJuI8Z5iVZ_HM6AI4ayDA0JoXK9qIwdlF97ee0gJ1bL_zfMUhuRkKTgR5ZhZXmjDgo8hTYh0anq4lR-RqqLyawsvXFDrAyGjWRyds1rdNYg/s4032/Dirty%20130%20Chamois%20Butt'r.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNkfomBpkDCsTur4VtResENmH7I6GBLWynD6m4EFsFy8s3y_ol4tq_DzsW6lmkWIA7HNstMBy-LvuJ77RZzJuI8Z5iVZ_HM6AI4ayDA0JoXK9qIwdlF97ee0gJ1bL_zfMUhuRkKTgR5ZhZXmjDgo8hTYh0anq4lR-RqqLyawsvXFDrAyGjWRyds1rdNYg/w300-h400/Dirty%20130%20Chamois%20Butt'r.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Keeping the bits happy after cooling off the engine.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>I cooled off once again at the piped spring (mile 107) by sticking my head under the pipe. Man, that felt so good and refreshing! By now early evening was upon me, leaving me with the final climb, but a doozie at 11 miles, with the last 4 being spicy! It was still warm, but the sun's rays were no longer searing hot. As I turned onto the double track of death climb, it was hard not to love life and hate it at the same time. This is a beautiful stretch of road, but rugged as hell. I was elated to have persevered through the pain earlier in the day, where I had thought of quitting 13 times, but now it was replaced by extreme fatigue. I was trying to remember how many steps there was to this climb: 3? 4? Try 5! Every time I thought that this was the last, I would round the corner and the road went back up. Finally I hit the short little descent that would drop me out on Kimsey Mountain Hwy (FS 68). And I felt like a pinball , pinging off the gazillion baby heads.</p><p>This section of Kimsey, that climbs for 2 miles back up to the intersection of Smith Mountain was no better. Because it was essentially a Paris Roubaix-like cobbled climb. All the dirt had eroded, leaving a conglomeration of wicked, lumpy rocks. I couldn't hold it in any longer and my sailor mouth erupted in expletives. That actually made me feel better and I bounced my way back up to the intersection. From there, the road smoothed out and I knocked out that last little bit of climbing with renewed energy; guess I was smelling the barn.</p><p>The descent was SO MUCH MORE pleasant on my mountain bike. My teeth didn't feel like they were gonna rattle out, and my eyeballs weren't bouncing around in my skull. I was able to sit on the saddle quite a bit, which then allowed me to hit those few little kickers towards the end with gusto.</p><p>I finished with a time of 13:35 (moving time of 13:01). It never is easy (well, maybe the 2018 version), but I swear it keeps getting harder as I get older, although today's difficulty was probably a combination of the heat and only being 2 weeks recovered from the DMR YoYo. But deep down inside, I love these challenges.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA8c34vuQpFb7KEseZzBmPeG9sz3xtLCPyvTXLfciVSLv5n7B9ckahaRNWEvQzFMFoZCi7UmHBcOeC1YHqCoySXme0EcdGd3wcyxEvoEdEGyUPOwuBL6TdsQFZnNyjwuTZgwSQSRhinNslmdotj4gJGLkHqhVxalFPoTN-vRbr04N-RFDUNjNq0dj1sjA/s3034/D130%20lying%20in%20parking%20lot,%20dead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2462" data-original-width="3034" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA8c34vuQpFb7KEseZzBmPeG9sz3xtLCPyvTXLfciVSLv5n7B9ckahaRNWEvQzFMFoZCi7UmHBcOeC1YHqCoySXme0EcdGd3wcyxEvoEdEGyUPOwuBL6TdsQFZnNyjwuTZgwSQSRhinNslmdotj4gJGLkHqhVxalFPoTN-vRbr04N-RFDUNjNq0dj1sjA/w400-h325/D130%20lying%20in%20parking%20lot,%20dead.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>I rested awhile on the concrete; it felt so good to just be still. I waited on John, figuring he would probably be about an hour behind me. But when dark thirty approached, I started to get nervous, thinking the worst. I should have gotten the link to his Inreach, but later he told me it had died several hours ago, so it wouldn't have helped anyways. Finally around 9:45pm, I saw bike lights off in the distance. Whew! John pulled in, looking like a corpse. He had a helluva second half, working through cramps and ended up walking more than he wanted. But he stuck it out and finished this beast.</p>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-6255379556577034742023-06-26T07:55:00.002-04:002023-06-26T07:55:39.873-04:00Death March Revival Yo-Yo<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4isPYpJH-BDG2rj9dSqCRuVhuLKxiVi5_KG16pzqDBMLiqFgWeG4s_Cr4TBt6QxDNy8vhrQMOtcFOlYYyJvwOpEzfDrj2n--qYzvHF4Lw1Tb3gpMbX4X1ItqZ9lcjleGlOjx22Vpqktv2N5DkAe4DfZ6ksGYoG36zjz3gwX8-52YjYl-zB_S7wTmafJo/s1074/DMR%20YOYO%20Strava%20Map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1074" data-original-width="1060" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4isPYpJH-BDG2rj9dSqCRuVhuLKxiVi5_KG16pzqDBMLiqFgWeG4s_Cr4TBt6QxDNy8vhrQMOtcFOlYYyJvwOpEzfDrj2n--qYzvHF4Lw1Tb3gpMbX4X1ItqZ9lcjleGlOjx22Vpqktv2N5DkAe4DfZ6ksGYoG36zjz3gwX8-52YjYl-zB_S7wTmafJo/s320/DMR%20YOYO%20Strava%20Map.jpg" width="316" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>The Death March Revival is a 95 mile gravel route deep in the heart of the Cohutta mountains of Tennessee and Georgia. <a href="https://www.tennesseegravel.com/time-trials">TennesseeGravel.com</a> puts on an ITT series, of which this is one of 3 routes. I have done some sort of version of this route every year for the past 20, as this is in my "backyard," stunningly beautiful, and hard AF (14,000+ feet of elevation gain and 99.5% gravel/dirt).</p><p>Having accomplished both a road and virtual Everesting event, I had left to do a gravel version and a single track version. It was also time for me to pay it forward again by raising money for my local animal shelter. So, what better way to combine the two than doing a yo-yo version of the DMR: riding it clockwise the first lap and counter clockwise the second lap. BDR's (Big Dumb Rides), as I affectionately call these adventures, are always better with friends. Earlier in the year I baited the hook, and landed David Jolin, one of my Rescue Racing team mates, and a solid friend.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJSh9jENNidLpFy_EjbXVPpHEJvyFgvpxxQgnqO-hL0IfG9pdTbIOBJphUtlDc8d_Tmn_w-nxTmRvKeDdlerqB8PTGFk8a2Yl62drEWbzjs0rFPHtWCG7UN1QwmgzLA438an290vkkpW-e4SzVwethWHPGMOoCt_cH7gQTEGamoAv29BiDGJ6rw4Zs6T8/s4032/DMR%20YOYO%20Ripley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJSh9jENNidLpFy_EjbXVPpHEJvyFgvpxxQgnqO-hL0IfG9pdTbIOBJphUtlDc8d_Tmn_w-nxTmRvKeDdlerqB8PTGFk8a2Yl62drEWbzjs0rFPHtWCG7UN1QwmgzLA438an290vkkpW-e4SzVwethWHPGMOoCt_cH7gQTEGamoAv29BiDGJ6rw4Zs6T8/w400-h300/DMR%20YOYO%20Ripley.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>I chose Ripley, my Trek SuperCaliber, with Ikon 2.2's, for this ride. The slight weight penalty was well worth the added comfort of full suspension. I was able to get away without having to use a hydration pack and that was a plus as well. I was a little concerned about the 4 inches of rain we had in the 4 days leading up to today, but it ended up making the course "hero." Sure, there were the usual mud holes to skirt around, but the gravel and dirt was hard packed, no stutter bumps, and no dust ... yea!</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGWjprmXzAeTD9O7qE5vqMEAG1R84VRysDNfyDJdmeqC9uSj9zUU_POjgcDJDoLuWwNSG-jopFn1WPIu8n-VROVGotOb8JUmC8F28PAlOMvw9vfZqr9cp1eIzKIMQB5RpSeZJoHu3n93UlSDDZUA33oEU-myyO7QuGsu8lyHyO-JsXQZg1czVS-kInhfs/s4032/DMR%20YOYO%20Dave%20and%20I%20at%20start.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGWjprmXzAeTD9O7qE5vqMEAG1R84VRysDNfyDJdmeqC9uSj9zUU_POjgcDJDoLuWwNSG-jopFn1WPIu8n-VROVGotOb8JUmC8F28PAlOMvw9vfZqr9cp1eIzKIMQB5RpSeZJoHu3n93UlSDDZUA33oEU-myyO7QuGsu8lyHyO-JsXQZg1czVS-kInhfs/w300-h400/DMR%20YOYO%20Dave%20and%20I%20at%20start.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Beginning</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>We started at 7:30 am. Temps would be pleasant today (60-78 degrees) and with the cloud cover and tree canopy, we wouldn't get hot. As we began the climb up FS 45, I reminded Dave to settle in at 24 hours pace. Sometimes he likes to get a little too frisky early on. I was riding on feel alone: no power meter, no heart rate strap, and my Garmin screen was blank (battery save mode). I had no goals other than to take it all in (scenery, wildlife, sounds, and all the feels) and finish.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ShPywqxlwaWniz8sV5jhReW1IsQhdThvSEH1QXE-X-lDQ1DNnKLxjzMnYzghd0u-F5ODRHfiYAJox_UNW1QZIpPSZiOs2QPjlsuH0xu2nmTpyQgd4HrJAVILFziYlOv9gKRT9tkIKRiGPSWaySwtYJW725RJXMQEiwRECKtOgBS7y0jx0lYqwK4Zwc0/s4032/DMR%20YOYO%20Dave%20on%20first%20morning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ShPywqxlwaWniz8sV5jhReW1IsQhdThvSEH1QXE-X-lDQ1DNnKLxjzMnYzghd0u-F5ODRHfiYAJox_UNW1QZIpPSZiOs2QPjlsuH0xu2nmTpyQgd4HrJAVILFziYlOv9gKRT9tkIKRiGPSWaySwtYJW725RJXMQEiwRECKtOgBS7y0jx0lYqwK4Zwc0/w300-h400/DMR%20YOYO%20Dave%20on%20first%20morning.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing up to Dally Gap</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>The first descent down FS 221 heading towards Tumbling Creek was blown out, with massive exposure of bedrock. It used to be that the only rough section were the "three bitches," a series of 3 punchy rocky climbs, but now every up and down along this section was a bitch! I cautiously made my way through the chunky sections, very mindful of placing wisdom above the "need for speed." Once the road paralleled the creek, the surface became smooth and remained that way for most of the day. Bluebird skies with puffy clouds and the birds singing their songs had me smiling.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia3b_5nnjX_tQiKzpmhiK5S_Bz2gJa8eJhs46JNEMDDR4pttMVBVj_BLRE7OT4kBvwNxcAnwbeeD5KyE8EIvdo21XyyHUSW2Wdae-7cP_kOfjcsENBdWtkAyML28b1_52ll3ylhiTm0tMH3WwBd-3gOTE2gmNzzKKn-n8dVklfDP4wYTHifVVi4n0Gpag/s2641/IMG_2799.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2641" data-original-width="2117" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia3b_5nnjX_tQiKzpmhiK5S_Bz2gJa8eJhs46JNEMDDR4pttMVBVj_BLRE7OT4kBvwNxcAnwbeeD5KyE8EIvdo21XyyHUSW2Wdae-7cP_kOfjcsENBdWtkAyML28b1_52ll3ylhiTm0tMH3WwBd-3gOTE2gmNzzKKn-n8dVklfDP4wYTHifVVi4n0Gpag/w321-h400/IMG_2799.jpg" width="321" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>At about 20 miles in, we stopped at Watson Gap for a quick pee break. As I went behind the Cohutta Wildlife Management sign and dropped trou, I began to squat when all of a sudden I realized my bits were right over a yellow jackets' nest. Oh, shit! I immediately began running away down the gravel road, bibs down around my ankles, with my ass exposed for the world to see! Fortunately, I was only stung twice on my legs. It coulda been so much worse! At least Dave got some comic relief (one of the things I am good at on these adventures).</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6tL1wnAAEaxMtYmwfyaE008OIwI-BOOYzd3cpFzl17Geb6gLtgdtyqiKozSQcWdYIzZOMa-iaTUwvcWpwu398kG5Xmn_PDoadQlKEVTDYV6lxSWf9zGcEoFgFsqRKdl8Hs234zmDMSqsTmDyD0m51oY0Xzp8OrTYDDlGaqelnxHy91nKwC7RiIMSHkeY/s4032/DMR%20YOYO%20Watson%20Gap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6tL1wnAAEaxMtYmwfyaE008OIwI-BOOYzd3cpFzl17Geb6gLtgdtyqiKozSQcWdYIzZOMa-iaTUwvcWpwu398kG5Xmn_PDoadQlKEVTDYV6lxSWf9zGcEoFgFsqRKdl8Hs234zmDMSqsTmDyD0m51oY0Xzp8OrTYDDlGaqelnxHy91nKwC7RiIMSHkeY/w400-h300/DMR%20YOYO%20Watson%20Gap.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moments before the full moon 😂<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div>The miles over to the Potato Patch piped spring were uneventful. I kept the pace easy and occasionally pedaled out of the saddle just to test the legs. They didn't bark, so I was good. We filled up at the spring and then placed a bunch of deadwood on the road adjacent to it, so that when we were on the second lap, it would be easy to find if we were in the dark, or our mind was numb.</div><div><br /></div><div>We arrived at <a href="https://www.mulberrygap.com/">Mulberry Gap</a> (mile 41) at 12:30 pm. That was about 20 minutes slower than my last DMR's pace, which was where I wanted to be. I did the usual: selfie in front of the sign, pee, purchase a Dr. Pepper and a candy bar, talk to Kate, and refill bottles. BTW, if you are a cyclist, hiker, or just want to unplug from the matrix, you gotta check them out. And the food is 5-star!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi89VIlHynkrzMmGKNAERFHY0EQWOlnVS0EGZGu4xfvfDH8Q66G7lomD8KqQhgouMrQLEp-RFb6im4wC-GVE7XxARpMKpfb5czPIUSfX5VKwVLJDTg5ho3WjxeKnvxrnHy2pXiZl3-RCloL2NEpG-0KuNmkS8--lEUqX0k3BjwGVRRK7qu7su84XZs6fQw/s4032/DMR%20YOYO%20Mulberry%20Gap%20selfie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi89VIlHynkrzMmGKNAERFHY0EQWOlnVS0EGZGu4xfvfDH8Q66G7lomD8KqQhgouMrQLEp-RFb6im4wC-GVE7XxARpMKpfb5czPIUSfX5VKwVLJDTg5ho3WjxeKnvxrnHy2pXiZl3-RCloL2NEpG-0KuNmkS8--lEUqX0k3BjwGVRRK7qu7su84XZs6fQw/w300-h400/DMR%20YOYO%20Mulberry%20Gap%20selfie.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><p>On the 6 mile climb back up Potato Patch, even though I was feeling great, I had to shake the thought of having to do this again ... aye yai yai. Descending on West Cowpen (FS 17), I was coming around a sharp corner, when there appeared a bear (young, probably last year's cub) hanging by one paw on a small dead tree, like a monkey. I think I saw his eyes swell with fear, as the tree broke, and he fell to the ground 10 feet below. This whole scene played out in about 2 seconds ... it was spectacular and hilarious! It is those times when I wish I had a GoPro.</p><p>A quick stop at the game check station for a pee while Dave refilled his bottles, and yes, I scouted my pee spot very carefully this time, and then off to the Big Frog section. I stopped at the piped spring at the beginning of Big Frog to refill mine; love the mountain water! This 10 mile section was also super blown out. I can remember when I used to ride this 10-15 years ago and it was smooth! I cannot imagine trying this now on a gravel bike. Even on my full sus bike, I was wishing for wider tires and more squish.</p><p>The miles were winding down on this first lap. Normally when I do the DMR, I am beginning to smell the barn with 15 to go, and I tend to bury myself to finish it. But today, even though I was still feeling great, I had to keep it easy and in the moment. I tried not to think about the second lap at all. But it definitely creeped in my mind a time or two.</p><p>We finished up at 7:15 pm. So that was 11 hours and 15 minutes; right on a pace I had wanted to set (40 minutes slower than my last DMR). And I did, all without any help from my Garmin. See, living in the moment, going by feels, without technology, can be good.</p><p>Knowing that a shower would help to "reset" me, I grabbed my bowl of rice and eggs I had prepared the night before, and headed over to the campground bathroom. Some people drink in the shower; I eat 😆. I let the hot water pound out the knife between my shoulder blades while I rinsed off the day's build up of sweat and dirt. A fresh kit and 600 calories of real food felt so good. Then I went to task of readying my bike for the night lap: Lupine headlamp, Outbound Lighting bar lamp, and a spare Lupine in my jersey pocket. I decided to wear my vest for additional pockets and warmth. I also stashed a wool base layer and arm warmers on my top tube. Even though the temps were only supposed to get into the low 60's/upper 50's, I know just how cold I can get when I am fatigued. I refilled my Revelate Designs feedbag with more food. </p><p>At 8:00 pm I was ready to roll, but Dave wasn't. For me, it is all about staying in motion, keeping that engine idling. If I sit/lay down and shut it off, it is so difficult to get it started again. We managed to get going at 8:15. I could tell that Dave was thinking too hard about what we were about to do. And that if I let him linger any longer, his lizard brain might convince him to call it quits. So I told him to let's just focus on getting to Mulberry Gap and reassess then. But what I was really thinking was that if I can get him to commit to Mulberry, then at that point he has to finish it, because there are no bail outs at that point in the course.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyiMByxXL6W_pnG-hn-54t7d638DfE9ya-MD2kliz9dWkB7WaqOSUxURh3LKlG_ZhhwVF_nlx6lZTKEp-GhL2KE12oK8xCf844xju5jwPv0oxTwSXi8KDyk3bxvFcq-BikPndqXfZYB03eEuMgdiU5d1xABiiRKgE8L3ViFn01YgMcCVQJTuTzwD_ByRM/s4032/DMR%20YOYO%20Dave%20gearring%20up%20for%20second%20lap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyiMByxXL6W_pnG-hn-54t7d638DfE9ya-MD2kliz9dWkB7WaqOSUxURh3LKlG_ZhhwVF_nlx6lZTKEp-GhL2KE12oK8xCf844xju5jwPv0oxTwSXi8KDyk3bxvFcq-BikPndqXfZYB03eEuMgdiU5d1xABiiRKgE8L3ViFn01YgMcCVQJTuTzwD_ByRM/w300-h400/DMR%20YOYO%20Dave%20gearring%20up%20for%20second%20lap.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't think, just do. Getting ready for lap #2.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>I could feel the legs on the FS 45 climb up, but I expected it, accepted it, and quickly put it out of my mind. I looked forward to nightfall, for it is exciting to me. It gives a fresh perspective on everything and the sense of space, time, and speed becomes distorted. The second lap was in the opposite direction, which also helped to keep things "fresh." On the plus side, the previously arduous climbs became fun descents. And as night fell on the rollers of FS 221, the climbey bits felt less climbey. I suspect it has something to do with not being able to see the road grade or the horizon.</p><p>It was good to get the chunky Big Frog section out of the way during the beginning of this lap, while I was still somewhat fresh. Even with my lights on high, it was sketchy AF! Two miles in, we came upon a truck, going the opposite way, loaded down with wife and kids. He looked a little worried, as he was lost. And his truck was not overland worthy. Fortunately, the worst of Big Frog was behind him. I gave him directions on how to get back to civilization, for which he was most thankful.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFITmfaK4GkFt8WWL2hyNaXcrTJdB0zsFCV2nsYGlHZkvU9I6U5BbvalxXzoekKozL8-yYoBo0lA1QD-0Px21D6BR52Wruz0y6ngCgrOm9uNR545zD7UgH3wM7eyea6AbFcRl0q225ClOUbuBJkWA9FbqPAsofO_daEzhgLyrP85_GOEphbK5xLAAFqpc/s4032/DMR%20YOYO%20top%20of%20Big%20Frog%20at%20night.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFITmfaK4GkFt8WWL2hyNaXcrTJdB0zsFCV2nsYGlHZkvU9I6U5BbvalxXzoekKozL8-yYoBo0lA1QD-0Px21D6BR52Wruz0y6ngCgrOm9uNR545zD7UgH3wM7eyea6AbFcRl0q225ClOUbuBJkWA9FbqPAsofO_daEzhgLyrP85_GOEphbK5xLAAFqpc/w300-h400/DMR%20YOYO%20top%20of%20Big%20Frog%20at%20night.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">top of Big Frog at 10:30 pm</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Descending off the backside of Big Frog, my only navigational error of the ride was thinking I had gone past the piped spring and back tracked a 1/4 mile before pulling out my TrailForks app and realizing I was one switchback off. Finding the piped spring, I filled one bottle with water; no Skratch added this time as I was about to be "sweeted out."</p><p>Although I had done well with my nutrition on the first lap (3000 calories and 6 bottles of fluids), I was having difficulty eating once the sun set. For me, it is a combination of palate fatigue, getting tired of eating, and my GI tract not used to working beyond 6 pm. I knew I had to take in at least 150-200 calories per hour. The waffle I had at the top of Big Frog, a bottle of Skratch, and now the shot blocks I was forcing myself to swallow at the game check station were the only calories I had taken in the past 4 hours. I wanted to just refill with water again, but added about half the usual amount of Skratch. Gotta get those calories in somehow, someway.</p><p>Turning onto West Cowpen (FS 17), I was not thrilled to be starting this climb. It was gonna be a doozy! 10 miles and 3000 feet. The first half rolled quite a bit, but still, the climbs were steep. And then it got real: 6 miles straight up to the heavens! It was here that the wheels began to fall off the bus. My easiest gear was a 32 x 52 and I was needing more. At this point in the ride, the fatigue hit hard, and my sit bones hurt. So I got off and walked quite a bit; it wasn't that much slower. But it did help the muscles, the taint, and the mind. And I got to watch the bats dive down at the bugs attracted to my lights, which was really cool!</p><p>Once at the top, I put my arm warmers on. The remaining gravel to Mulberry Gap was downhill and it was getting chilly at elevation. The descent down Potato Patch was mentally draining. Lights were working great, but at the speed I wanted to go, I had to keep my eyes peeled for obstacles, like big embedded rocks waiting to take my front wheel out from under me. And the palms of my hands were getting sore.</p><p>We got to Mulberry Gap at 3:30 am. I kept on task and stopped at the bathroom first. Then I made my way to the barn, as Kate had mentioned earlier about an option for hot tea or coffee. Something warm with caffeine would be the bomb! When I got there, Dave was already comfortably slumped in a chair ... with cushions. In my mind, this could be disastrous. I wanted to kick the chair out from under him, but figured I would give him 30 minutes and hope for the best. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpbk3CTzCbnYcMfeHyoFwVIXXuIBX2DdHkpGlCNRXJFw5-_dxL7bdWakZunyHvklApTOX8bZH8ULTMWYl6vZ3NMdlEA2M2TZc5yWLOmeHGSB454F_1BH3wOv-oGyKO2XAQjLADirX0WRi283XcDMo_yxmDZpJUanVNi4sqqS4qWjRJk9HfJA6Sp0pMMHc/s4032/DMR%20YOYO%20Dave%20napping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpbk3CTzCbnYcMfeHyoFwVIXXuIBX2DdHkpGlCNRXJFw5-_dxL7bdWakZunyHvklApTOX8bZH8ULTMWYl6vZ3NMdlEA2M2TZc5yWLOmeHGSB454F_1BH3wOv-oGyKO2XAQjLADirX0WRi283XcDMo_yxmDZpJUanVNi4sqqS4qWjRJk9HfJA6Sp0pMMHc/w300-h400/DMR%20YOYO%20Dave%20napping.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just a few minutes ... what he said 😏</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>I tended to myself. Coffee was of the instant kind, so I opted for black tea. A warm mug of this, with a little honey, did me some good. I got my bottles filled with water, cleaned the garbage out of my pockets, and then PayDay-boarded my pie hole until I got the whole thing down the hatch. It was now 4 am. I told Dave I was ready to head out. He looked shell-shocked. He said, "Are you leaving?" I told him not without you. He said he needed another hour. So I drank another cup of tea and tried to power nap. But I began to shiver uncontrollably. It wasn't that cold, it was just that my body was tired and my core was not generating heat. </p><p>I needed/wanted to get back at it, but a heavy shower hit around 4:30 am. As the rain was ending around 4:50 am, I woke Dave up. He then said he was just gonna sleep some more. I told him I had to go, as I was freezing. He had the course loaded, so I was 90% confident he could find his way to the finish, as long as he did not have a mechanical. But he also had Zeke's phone number, so an "Uber" was indeed possible, if he couldn't get hold of me (cell service is unreliable at the start/finish).</p><p>Once I got back on the bike, I immediately warmed up and had to shed the layers I had put on at Mulberry Gap. That extra hour also allowed some digestion of my earlier force-feeding which made the 6 mile climb back up Potato Patch not as hard as I expected. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Y43KQe37BdF6ITYO97NU91Uj7oS3_FAW_yWw5JnRQuphCdReGkUazuti17zORjCim52Av9DUCfh_dWsolg7o2S4n4IcQNF-e_JdAQq1aMmYsNXj_ZX7XEoaGWRkVaTW3Pr13C35G5RiawRHrtBxmtXLsI4EZq8pGsYyl8qbnJG4PzXfpmgROjW3qp3Y/s4032/DMR%20YOYO%20selfie%20morning%202%20Bear%20Creek%20overlook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Y43KQe37BdF6ITYO97NU91Uj7oS3_FAW_yWw5JnRQuphCdReGkUazuti17zORjCim52Av9DUCfh_dWsolg7o2S4n4IcQNF-e_JdAQq1aMmYsNXj_ZX7XEoaGWRkVaTW3Pr13C35G5RiawRHrtBxmtXLsI4EZq8pGsYyl8qbnJG4PzXfpmgROjW3qp3Y/w300-h400/DMR%20YOYO%20selfie%20morning%202%20Bear%20Creek%20overlook.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise at Bear Creek overlook</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>I always enjoy riding into daylight. The sun rising got my circadian rhythm back on track, and my energy levels rose, despite my inadequate caloric consumption. 35 miles to go ... I got this! I began visualizing the remaining miles in sections. Just focus on getting to the piped spring at Jack's River. And so I did, not letting the 3 or 4 grunty kickers knock me off my mental game. I saw the stack of deadwood we had set out earlier, so I stopped and refilled my bottles here. That water was cold and tasty. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipwUwUt4BAHkbA4E5TNXkWdnlzsWr_VRULhOnen5DGpi8UVAMqWs7BUJqtYEs6prD6u4VFnK51H6UlNlHvwFtOtbTtXAllb8Bt17ONjBj0BmcHbjFUnkQRHDFlEkn-h3o-Uo2GiuRlZUNGD-AiA6M5zaQuQRnwIrqKZTGZzogNEYX2U_TXwIIa8Y31bTc/s4032/DMR%20YOYO%20sunrise%20morning%202%20suns%20rays.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipwUwUt4BAHkbA4E5TNXkWdnlzsWr_VRULhOnen5DGpi8UVAMqWs7BUJqtYEs6prD6u4VFnK51H6UlNlHvwFtOtbTtXAllb8Bt17ONjBj0BmcHbjFUnkQRHDFlEkn-h3o-Uo2GiuRlZUNGD-AiA6M5zaQuQRnwIrqKZTGZzogNEYX2U_TXwIIa8Y31bTc/w300-h400/DMR%20YOYO%20sunrise%20morning%202%20suns%20rays.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I live for these sunrises!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>The next section was getting to Watson Gap. The climb out of Jack's River campground was pleasant, but I forgot just how long it was (2.5 miles). The hip bone pain had been replaced by achy patellar tendons. Now my knees were feeling like the Tin Man's. I got some relief when I could get out of the saddle, but then after about 15-20 pedal strokes, my quads were blowing up. </p><p>At Watson Gap, I now had 20 miles to go. Just get to Tumbling Creek campground, a 10 mile pull, and mostly downhill. But there were 2 short climbs that tried to break me. Nope, not gonna happen. The body may be falling to pieces, but the mind was strong and unwavering. I was now riding on sheer will power, as I had not been able to eat anything since I washed a peanut butter date down with spring water 15 miles ago.</p><p>The biting flies and gnats found me on the final 1 mile climb halfway through this 10 mile stretch. I could only laugh at my predicament: 171 miles into this adventure trying to eek out an extra 25 watts to get above fly speed, wildly waving one hand to keep the little bastards from biting me and maintaining balance on no sleep for 28 hours. Cresting that last climb, I finally gapped them!</p><p>Riding past the campground, I had 10 miles and the final 2 climbs. Now, I was smelling the barn. This was the same chunky blown out section we had descended over 24 hours ago. I walked a couple short steep sections for my fear of stalling out on dead legs and falling over. Yep, I was that tired.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYf7crh3LkikZdZ2lOkhbNGOKzE2c2BUXEC2tukBokzRNAPzx5EAomqgA08oYI3pj4QU9XGOzlgwHhh076lLsIDhrKzpWBngAjhTfWB6614jJAxM70XZytXzsmtFuW22efXpepYx7ToqnJ1Ig6V_A71tNbVi-k3zD12d4vN1dARNiURVCjmdc_oRYBKUo/s4032/DMR%20YOYO%20Tumbling%20Lead%20gravel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYf7crh3LkikZdZ2lOkhbNGOKzE2c2BUXEC2tukBokzRNAPzx5EAomqgA08oYI3pj4QU9XGOzlgwHhh076lLsIDhrKzpWBngAjhTfWB6614jJAxM70XZytXzsmtFuW22efXpepYx7ToqnJ1Ig6V_A71tNbVi-k3zD12d4vN1dARNiURVCjmdc_oRYBKUo/w400-h300/DMR%20YOYO%20Tumbling%20Lead%20gravel.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rhodos were poppin'</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Then I saw the FS 45 intersection. I was so happy I woulda cried had I had enough water to form tears. Those next 2 1/2 miles descending down to the finish were ... the ... best ... ever. </p><p>I had just accomplished something I had trepidations 48 hours ago of completing. And I completed an Everest on gravel. Well, maybe 263 feet short of the "official" mark of 29,029, but close enough to check that one off my bucket list. The one goal I did miss was the 24 hour completion mark. While moving time was under 24, total time was just over 27. But I am ok with that.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJg14UuwwZ1HnJ1BfLHEab9CCKGqi8TzjcrVfrxyDCTCfTxvwQXw-1sG_pjh6QMJXvEeQFOywNgJdFbf3ZJ_ry5-u9nOEwJb7LwYon9cwRNxxhBH5z2OkhTvOvO-dEovUVhNvfxz8as1hBHLCZ6fP3xmWnA8hrtXSrfaM569JwquUvoPyWg6lWV74uNMk/s4032/DMR%20YOYO%20selfie%20fetal%20position.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJg14UuwwZ1HnJ1BfLHEab9CCKGqi8TzjcrVfrxyDCTCfTxvwQXw-1sG_pjh6QMJXvEeQFOywNgJdFbf3ZJ_ry5-u9nOEwJb7LwYon9cwRNxxhBH5z2OkhTvOvO-dEovUVhNvfxz8as1hBHLCZ6fP3xmWnA8hrtXSrfaM569JwquUvoPyWg6lWV74uNMk/w400-h300/DMR%20YOYO%20selfie%20fetal%20position.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feeling like a cicada shell</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Not that this is necessarily the hardest thing I have ever done, but relative to my age, yes. Even though in my mind I still feel young, my body has told me otherwise these past few years. It takes a lot more relative effort these days to execute BDR's. But I am very grateful I still can. And that I can find like-minded individuals to play the game. </p><p>I showered and tended to my gear. I still did not feel like eating and besides, I had forgotten to bring any post-ride food. I pulled out my yoga mat and anxiously awaited Dave's arrival. He finished up a couple hours after me, having left Mulberry Gap around 6:30 am.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvpAhn3vD0ufgS3vM0c2Fjzw6JWy_Bp4NP2eDRat77NqRfBAOI5u6IawLg6LPXp3H-ONnRTMXM-40JFYaIhY6fOyCQAPe3UNV908sFbIwRqj05Bw_mc0YIW-peYsahDvxFrqnG8CjBry03TxmUEIJWXhy7IdxSYYia2NixJlqq70bkVJOC9XlamZHp6kM/s3664/DMR%20YOYO%20Dave%20finishing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3664" data-original-width="2698" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvpAhn3vD0ufgS3vM0c2Fjzw6JWy_Bp4NP2eDRat77NqRfBAOI5u6IawLg6LPXp3H-ONnRTMXM-40JFYaIhY6fOyCQAPe3UNV908sFbIwRqj05Bw_mc0YIW-peYsahDvxFrqnG8CjBry03TxmUEIJWXhy7IdxSYYia2NixJlqq70bkVJOC9XlamZHp6kM/s320/DMR%20YOYO%20Dave%20finishing.jpg" width="236" /></a></div><br /><p>He, too, was shelled, but had enough left to crack a smile. For both of us, this has been our longest effort, time-wise, in one go. And I do believe that we may be the first to have done a DMR double. </p><p>I want to thank everyone who donated to my local animal shelter and held me accountable to finish this beast. Together we raised $3475. One of my mantras during the difficult sections was "One paw-stroke at a time." You and the critters helped me to keep my mental game strong.</p><p>Now, off to eat whatever I want, guilt-free. I think I have some calories to make up for.</p><p><br /></p></div>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-89231130293844699332023-06-17T15:51:00.001-04:002023-06-17T15:51:26.115-04:00T Minus 6 Days Until Death March Revival Yo-Yo +<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNXUhkW8v9nMolIoBzSw1VlNbF6mEhC1qDW26aENYuUGpvmKok-dU-aXD2U7VihX8nQbPsfo8H9oyI0emVZYvUBBIT17bLXsKfN9vATqH5L4rQG9Es568V1nAiVnTp8ZadwyXQO76jg9KxjVNcsxniG2RHwLCP9E0-A_tNgBvGDcFFftAeK-bn9ZAZ/s3291/IMG_9954.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3291" data-original-width="2456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNXUhkW8v9nMolIoBzSw1VlNbF6mEhC1qDW26aENYuUGpvmKok-dU-aXD2U7VihX8nQbPsfo8H9oyI0emVZYvUBBIT17bLXsKfN9vATqH5L4rQG9Es568V1nAiVnTp8ZadwyXQO76jg9KxjVNcsxniG2RHwLCP9E0-A_tNgBvGDcFFftAeK-bn9ZAZ/s320/IMG_9954.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A reminder that playing bikes is fun!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>As the day draws nigh, self-doubt tries to burrow its way into my soul. While years of doing these grand adventures has forged my mental fortitude into a magnificent weapon, the physical struggle to finish them is undeniably getting harder. </p><p>While I have done the Death March Revival many times, I distinctly remember the feeling of finishing with absolutely nothing left in the tank. And now, I am going to turn back around and do it in reverse, and then add 2 additional climbs up FS 45, in order to get 29,045 feet of gain in this one ride. That is 200 miles! In less than 24 hours! Fuck!</p><p>So I have been focusing on people that have made an impact in my life and drawing strength from their character. Both Michael Rasch and Graham Skardon have done adventures much tougher than this. Their strengths lie in being consistent, focusing on the now, and enjoying the ride, no matter how hard it gets.</p><p>There are the ladies older than I, who are still out there crushing it on the bike: Lynn Sims, Nancy Waddell, and Beth Hoffmeister, to name a few. I will lean heavily on them during my low moments.</p><p>And when I feel the "poor, pitiful me" moments, I will tell myself that I chose to endure this struggle. I will remove any negativity from my mind by thinking of those, both human and 4-legged, who are struggling every day through no fault of their own, but by the hands of others or just pure bad luck.</p><p>I am also very grateful that I have friends who are willing to endure this challenge with me. Thanks, Dave, for stepping up to play my insane game. </p><p>So while it may not be fast, pretty, or fun all of the time, it will just be ... my impossible route.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioWche16VPt1LPLrsyykQpy0YwQomjXDqeoNNl4C34xSx05uNfwk2Lno6bPR45r9lMhD6guvEorTY5AasyODn4MHSiX6vCX4b0JWAKvuSNnD45l3gH2-03oR493hAQoP_AqULk1dWLP0BnA01P9_htKEcKL0dVOFWa8rllU7jZsL8zt-d72tyB4naK/s4032/Death%20March%20Revival%20Bear%20Creek%20Overlook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioWche16VPt1LPLrsyykQpy0YwQomjXDqeoNNl4C34xSx05uNfwk2Lno6bPR45r9lMhD6guvEorTY5AasyODn4MHSiX6vCX4b0JWAKvuSNnD45l3gH2-03oR493hAQoP_AqULk1dWLP0BnA01P9_htKEcKL0dVOFWa8rllU7jZsL8zt-d72tyB4naK/s320/Death%20March%20Revival%20Bear%20Creek%20Overlook.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-77001691407545333122023-05-14T15:26:00.000-04:002023-05-14T15:26:43.104-04:00Pedaling for the Paws ... Again!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeOL6yNCJWtw95ogcp-23jd3CGztGvhl_9W9n5aWI3rC2RlVUN2YGjmc01cOwQ-iKdmVJkO_ySQzY09f8O7zw5vnSXRVpU3cVNfijdNeALVUBcmrUqjro3gDnNJLGavM08biygDLAZdY7nDdc5tZi3fqBNs1RkYQ7N_CzfOVHpgLkz2xclBFw1xotr/s2000/Pedaling%20for%20the%20Paws%20color%20logo%20v2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeOL6yNCJWtw95ogcp-23jd3CGztGvhl_9W9n5aWI3rC2RlVUN2YGjmc01cOwQ-iKdmVJkO_ySQzY09f8O7zw5vnSXRVpU3cVNfijdNeALVUBcmrUqjro3gDnNJLGavM08biygDLAZdY7nDdc5tZi3fqBNs1RkYQ7N_CzfOVHpgLkz2xclBFw1xotr/w400-h400/Pedaling%20for%20the%20Paws%20color%20logo%20v2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>I have the desire to scratch this "pay it forward" itch that has been hounding me the past 6 months or so. It is just the challenge that comes with it is daunting. Back in 2020, I raised $8000+ for my local animal shelter. I did this in conjunction with completing a virtual Everest on Zwift ... riding repeats of the Alpe Du Zwift climb in one single activity, until I ascended 29,028 feet. A feat which took just under 13 hours.</p><p>Now I could just ask for donations and do nothing else. But, for me, I need some sort of physical/mental challenge to accompany my requests for money from YOU. It makes me feel that I am earning your dollars. And these days, I understand that budgets are tight.</p><p>I currently have 2 Everesting events under my belt. The one I mentioned above and a road version I did prior to that on the Foothills Parkway, with my Rescue Racing partner, Scott Morman. My first thought, was to do another, on gravel. But then, another of my Rescue Racing team mates, David Jolin, wanted to join me. </p><p>The more I thought about it, having David drive 8 hours from Ohio, to only get to see one 3.5 mile section of relatively boring gravel, 30 times, would just be cruel. He should be able to ride through some of the best parts of the Cherokee National Forest and the Cohutta Wilderness. So I have decided to do a Death March Revival yo-yo. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Ku_5xtJbR6WPQGuHVVxxRxyGEFhAECOq41V6cxI0yaVGLCIYLTkWLj7ZICfjlv0wLea6LGu7zGzelKtluv0bZJ6RROzWsmSbvuWLdXOmE6mCgSaFJoyJrqrbHEtE4iw9kCphVmnybHZ_V2TVy5YnOsHUmZFzz1-Std5-63UCALgI0VTypicDVDV-/s828/Death%20March%20Logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="467" data-original-width="828" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Ku_5xtJbR6WPQGuHVVxxRxyGEFhAECOq41V6cxI0yaVGLCIYLTkWLj7ZICfjlv0wLea6LGu7zGzelKtluv0bZJ6RROzWsmSbvuWLdXOmE6mCgSaFJoyJrqrbHEtE4iw9kCphVmnybHZ_V2TVy5YnOsHUmZFzz1-Std5-63UCALgI0VTypicDVDV-/w400-h225/Death%20March%20Logo.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">94 miles, 13,800 feet of gain</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>What's a yo-yo, you ask? It is riding the course in one direction and then, upon completion, turning around and riding it in the opposite direction. This plus doing an extra climb on FS 45, will give me the elevation gain equal to the height of Mount Everest. This won't be a true Everesting event, because the elevation gain must take place by doing repeats of one climb only. Nonetheless, it will be excruciatingly hard ... right up my alley of #doinghardthings.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbGW6waIlxT2MJIQaXAg0c_85cAS9Eo082x0_P6QaH4JPVCAoe2E_oEAZ4vH6SzLG0k66nlOQ195wt9xVzUpW0XMKuI-N5q5VytDA7Xs4O6zyCpF7WLVzrp7LJ4LyWE_Sa-ph54BMO43H04P7H4pXGV_4ohJY131qThgk0MYI0ZJe66MBvHI8OxraD/s1259/IMG_8555.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1259" data-original-width="1170" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbGW6waIlxT2MJIQaXAg0c_85cAS9Eo082x0_P6QaH4JPVCAoe2E_oEAZ4vH6SzLG0k66nlOQ195wt9xVzUpW0XMKuI-N5q5VytDA7Xs4O6zyCpF7WLVzrp7LJ4LyWE_Sa-ph54BMO43H04P7H4pXGV_4ohJY131qThgk0MYI0ZJe66MBvHI8OxraD/w371-h400/IMG_8555.jpg" width="371" /></a></div><br /><p>I am planning my adventure for sometime around the summer solstice. I will choose a date, either on June 22 or 23, depending on weather.</p><p>Since my virtual Everest in July 2020, the animal shelter has acquired a new building. It is much larger and in a better location. But, a lot of renovation needs to be done. And for this, money is needed. With this larger space, they will be able to house more animals and in a controlled environment. </p><p>I am humbly asking you to give what you can. Every little bit helps. I am telling myself that the more I raise, the easier it will be to finish it😏. My goal is to raise $2500 and perhaps find a "Ellen" or a "Rachel Ray" who could match it.</p><p>I am going to set up a FaceBook fundraiser where you can donate. By donating here, I will be able to tell exactly how much I raise. But if you want to donate directly to the animal shelter, here is the website for the <a href="https://mrhumane.org/clubs/mcminn-humane-society/">McMinn Regional Humane Society</a>. If you donate directly, please tell me the dollar amount in the "Comments" section, so I can keep a running total.</p><p>Thank you and Happy Tails and Trails!</p><p>Carey</p>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-81425024145410973562023-05-10T18:17:00.001-04:002023-05-10T18:17:10.485-04:00PMBAR Race Report<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1segYn-Na7JvhAQbhbBfyIZImPAsAP6YSwp_iqTwl-F4-6nEe0tOhkq-Xm5ygkcNsAIMIqbLJI7SGIEdlw4eNFnBm1g5WU3UuEOcNjBK_LjeWkzaF9NeIXM4O0UK1QSZ2XCx-c-CYYNAn6suWI4vsiAPtst5eiNl1DHDypxYI1FhwiEspOvYfEP5g/s1080/PMBAR%20Lisa%20and%20I.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1segYn-Na7JvhAQbhbBfyIZImPAsAP6YSwp_iqTwl-F4-6nEe0tOhkq-Xm5ygkcNsAIMIqbLJI7SGIEdlw4eNFnBm1g5WU3UuEOcNjBK_LjeWkzaF9NeIXM4O0UK1QSZ2XCx-c-CYYNAn6suWI4vsiAPtst5eiNl1DHDypxYI1FhwiEspOvYfEP5g/w400-h266/PMBAR%20Lisa%20and%20I.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>With no rain the day before, night of, or morning of, I questioned whether of not I was in Pisgah, or some altered dimension, as I was standing at the Start/Finish, in just a jersey and shorts, not shivering. Waiting for the shenanigans to begin, I was in my happy place. While PMBAR is both physically and mentally demanding, it is also SO GOOD for the soul. </p><p>Four weeks ago, I was trying to come up with another partner for Lisa, as my knee was so swollen and painful, it hurt to walk, and I could only spin at a recovery pace. But there was still hope and I did all the things: ate well, slept well, mobility exercises, ice/heat, and many easy spins on the local rail trail. Fortunately, healing vastly improved in the two weeks leading up to the event. And just two days before, I got good news from my MRI: a grade 2 tear of the MCL. My doc said no surgery needed and I was halfway there to being fully healed, and to keep doing what I had been. Hallelujah! No meniscal tear and my ACL was happy! </p><p>So I was ecstatic to be able to play bikes all day with my number one bestie. Although my fitness had tanked the past 4 weeks, what no better way to get back at it than this. Time was drawing near to the 8 am start, and I noticed there was no box of passports lying near Eric Wever's feet. Josh, who was down from Ohio volunteering for the day, only snickered when I made mention. Hmmm ... where were we gonna have to pedal to get our passports, I wondered?</p><p>Eric began the pre-race meeting and said the passports were at the intersection of Buckhorn and Black Mountain ... and that we had to take Black Mountain all the way there. So up, up, and away we went. It was a mad start as 200+ racers began sprinting up Black. I put it in chill mode, as chill as one can get climbing 2800 feet in 6 miles, and let the wild bucks go. The knee felt great, even at the higher torques; I was only disappointed that I could not do any wheel lifts or pedal out of the saddle when needing to get that extra "oomph." So I had to dismount several times and HAB some sections, that under normal circumstances, were rideable. </p><p>Black was in awesome shape, only a few spots of wetness, from springs. The re-route was so enjoyable and rideable. The HAB's of middle Black were still SOB's and some of the descents were frustrating as there were conga lines and riders up my ass, who wanted to pass. Trying to be patient and polite, I let them go, even though it stalled my forward progress ... by minutes. Why couldn't they be all like Gordon Wadsworth and Scott "Smooshie" Harper, who knew this was NOT the day to try to "clean" the descents, but rather just allow the race to thin out and then enjoy putting your skills to the test?</p><p>I let Lisa ahead of me mid-way up, as I had a slightly easier gear and wanted her to ride at her pace. Six miles and a little over 2 hours later, Lisa grabbed the passport and we pulled out the map and began plotting our course. We opted for a clockwise route, grabbing the mandatory CP at Club Gap first. My only request in the days leading up to this race were to plot the best route with the least amount of HAB, as that is when my knee would get angry. So we chose to go for only 4/5 CP's and leave out the one on Laurel Mountain, as the net gain in getting a 2 hour time bonus (for going for 5) would only be minimal, if not canceled out altogether, by the time it would take us (especially me) to grab that 5th one.</p><p>Upper Black was in primo condition. On one hand, it sucked not being able to ride the rideable sections, but on the other hand, I realized how lucky I was just to be out here, in spectacular weather, and around great people. Putting the ego aside, I started calling myself "Cripple Carey," after a Barbie doll my Dad had given Carly years ago, nicknaming her Cripple Becky. Those fun memories, as well as making fun of myself, made getting off and on the bike a bit easier.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyn-bq4YZNOUMZ-rhjxOXFiEzgFWMEcO1kXaMA2__RFTm85DWWZlIG9XJ8sCqBCettZ0MHYnlZsTWZYdEsVn3E6iJMNJjvX83Ao6QcFQWUMFvWXTGS7AwDrHuoPOxDCF_ZJ_bqCIqdDNO5tc78bcnm0KKjgIhRWqBWN6fcLy5E505MzZ9kbOXYc9R7/s4032/PMBAR%20Chris%20Joice%20at%20Club%20Gap%20CP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyn-bq4YZNOUMZ-rhjxOXFiEzgFWMEcO1kXaMA2__RFTm85DWWZlIG9XJ8sCqBCettZ0MHYnlZsTWZYdEsVn3E6iJMNJjvX83Ao6QcFQWUMFvWXTGS7AwDrHuoPOxDCF_ZJ_bqCIqdDNO5tc78bcnm0KKjgIhRWqBWN6fcLy5E505MzZ9kbOXYc9R7/s320/PMBAR%20Chris%20Joice%20at%20Club%20Gap%20CP.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Club Gap CP passport puncher and SS extraordinaire, Chris Joice</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After nabbing the mandatory, we rode down Club Gap (a first time that direction for me) and hopped on 276 up to FS 1206. We rode gravel over to Pilot Cove-Slate Rock and once again connected with Gordon/Emily and Scott/Todd. It was a joy to ride and HAB with them up to the next CP. Gordon talked almost the whole way; boy, did I feed off his good vibes!<div><br /><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcyPdsrZnMYfFCTlNadj0D_3ijqwqcmE0BRXogMlMHz5y-fuMV9tpWx7Hpr4R_4WSehOZ1DaV-AQEtHOzUssRNyrnA7_fQMHvdQHYQ-lIjT-BCrTLoTKVMe5fiBdzwnVfHZWwuM7RB02VWdA6LI_gH5Js2Wfr8xiuVUo1Wee6VqLulMi9KHEPFiFu3/s640/PMBAR%20Pilot%20Cove%20CP%20goodies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcyPdsrZnMYfFCTlNadj0D_3ijqwqcmE0BRXogMlMHz5y-fuMV9tpWx7Hpr4R_4WSehOZ1DaV-AQEtHOzUssRNyrnA7_fQMHvdQHYQ-lIjT-BCrTLoTKVMe5fiBdzwnVfHZWwuM7RB02VWdA6LI_gH5Js2Wfr8xiuVUo1Wee6VqLulMi9KHEPFiFu3/w300-h400/PMBAR%20Pilot%20Cove%20CP%20goodies.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goodies from the CP volunteer</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>We stayed only long enough for Lisa to refill her bottles from the volunteer's BeFree water filter bottle. The remainder of this trail was in the best shape ever! So dry, so rideable, and so beautiful as it ran next to Slate Rock Creek.</div><div><br /></div><div>Popping back out on FS 1206, we decided to not to go down Bradley Creek Trail, but to continue on the gravel over to FS 5015. Why we had even thought about doing the trail I do not know, other than it appeared quicker on the map. We were rewarded for the extra miles with Eric Nicoletti's grilled cheese stand at the intersection of 1206 and 5015. Stephen Janes would be proud! While I could not participate in the cheesy goodness, I did find an ice cold Dr. Pepper that went down the hatch mighty fine.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSA-lsV5sO2M9a2S7qkTI7mAQhaEGhNV5M-SI71_0Lr6w_u9GPQ7gNzoWyjU_V-vXsWhVzSnT-d8Ti0e-uUW_7naOzIoeXEztr6gAg5tkt0BZAGS1UDVZwpwSQM6cIj8kAd8XUJG1Ti6v_0SIEobR_jHg1o_eNoYLvEgx1s-dS8uwyNVNpsOcSbr5u/s4032/PMBAR%20Eric%20and%20grilled%20cheese%20station.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSA-lsV5sO2M9a2S7qkTI7mAQhaEGhNV5M-SI71_0Lr6w_u9GPQ7gNzoWyjU_V-vXsWhVzSnT-d8Ti0e-uUW_7naOzIoeXEztr6gAg5tkt0BZAGS1UDVZwpwSQM6cIj8kAd8XUJG1Ti6v_0SIEobR_jHg1o_eNoYLvEgx1s-dS8uwyNVNpsOcSbr5u/w300-h400/PMBAR%20Eric%20and%20grilled%20cheese%20station.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div>Lisa made inhaled her grilled cheese and then we made quick work of the gravel descent. At the intersection FS 5015 and Bradley Creek Trail, there was a meeting of the minds as we came upon Gordon/Emily, Scott/Todd, and another pair. We decided to go up Laurel and then do an out and back on Squirrel Gap to grab the CP.</div><div><br /></div><div>But first, Lisa and I stopped to filter again. This was the first time we used her BeFree water filter and I noticed hers did not flow near as fast as the volunteer's at the previous CP. Needed some Popeye forearms to fill up my bottle.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEhJfb_HLxQsr2kdTolqUdNDFw7ucF6A1hLlMu7qXHkXpcAgZEgXnotOP2n6OE03ckwfovzmcCKEf6vWkOJTax6jZJhilfmvdUQ6gcJB8NTQFOg3kOoWhqr7_OwDoEKJ7JQHjx_k7IFmlMRWKtstCmJOMi3SaHLjpmve0gdneAdSXCsVOV1XtfFE1_/s4032/PMBAR%20Selfie%20with%20Smooshie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEhJfb_HLxQsr2kdTolqUdNDFw7ucF6A1hLlMu7qXHkXpcAgZEgXnotOP2n6OE03ckwfovzmcCKEf6vWkOJTax6jZJhilfmvdUQ6gcJB8NTQFOg3kOoWhqr7_OwDoEKJ7JQHjx_k7IFmlMRWKtstCmJOMi3SaHLjpmve0gdneAdSXCsVOV1XtfFE1_/w300-h400/PMBAR%20Selfie%20with%20Smooshie.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I 💓 Smooshie!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>That was the first time I had ridden Laurel in this direction. The bottom half was not too bad, just a little laurel whacking on the shins and negotiating oncoming racers. The upper half was a pretty steep HAB, to which my knee, now over 4 hours in, was beginning to complain. Lisa patiently waited for me on all the HAB's today, as I was a lot slower than the "Usain Bolt" of hike a bike. Although the pedal on Squirrel was only 2 miles to get the CP, it felt more like five, as it was all uphill. It was here that I had my first "whine" out loud. I sounded like a fussy 7 year old who was tired of walking with her Mom at the mall 😄. It was short-lived, as I could only laugh at myself. </div><div><br /></div><div>Riding down Squirrel Gap was super fun and the fun continued on Mullinax. We turned onto South Mills River and I could not believe how dry the trail was. South Mills was like a highway! We motored quickly over to the CP, grabbing our 4th and final one for the day. We continued on South Mills, crossing two nice bridges, and thinking how fast we were gonna go, heading to the finish.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2xTmg0PeIE77flEhr10BYhyGP0XhB0R-2F7KmzvTcZYdbsAjrupKI3LE4SDwllHgPYXhYct_1CZn8ZP3QeCtSPcx1-9R8_BhAHtxriS2vhRm75zcKSOLQ93GH8VQYzewqIxeGh-1wrhyGB-9_1T4nlZgG2rD8kmmBTjRzDD-oEk7pmEp3lQmJog8q/s1080/PMBAR%20me%20on%20South%20Mills.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2xTmg0PeIE77flEhr10BYhyGP0XhB0R-2F7KmzvTcZYdbsAjrupKI3LE4SDwllHgPYXhYct_1CZn8ZP3QeCtSPcx1-9R8_BhAHtxriS2vhRm75zcKSOLQ93GH8VQYzewqIxeGh-1wrhyGB-9_1T4nlZgG2rD8kmmBTjRzDD-oEk7pmEp3lQmJog8q/w400-h266/PMBAR%20me%20on%20South%20Mills.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mullinax</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>We had ridden the first 3 miles of South Mills in just under 30 minutes. And then as we continued left on South Mills at the intersection of Cantrell Creek, the adventure began! Unbeknownst to us, we were entering Purgatory, the section of South Mills that you just don't go. Never having ridden this section, you don't know what you don't know. And so I say to all my cycling friends that are veterans of Pisgah, who never mentioned this "purgatory" ... F*ck y'all! </div></div><div><br /></div><div>After cresting that short climb, we descended into hell! And for the next 90 minutes it took us to cover that 4 miles, we battled thick laurel undergrowth that lashed our legs, crossed the river 12 times, of which 6 of those were waist deep and slick as snot, and rode/pushed through 6 bogs. Oh, and negotiated no less than 30 downed trees. Poor Lisa had to hear my sailor's mouth a few times. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDqdwy3EEZz5iYbHqBx4rJ1kTFnhuPUBsOm2N3JfFWytina6AGiQ3bVT-K-BJqsLD0yYBursriQMv_JMHJatIHJLzHm-w_lqdHemUnwaZsSYGcWUlkMeqz041QDtD77dTwf7bRUvGdJGIcrharef-M6_Ej1BPdYH2mb_UPml9sf4hJyrhrk9py257q/s4032/PMBAR%20South%20MIlls%20River.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDqdwy3EEZz5iYbHqBx4rJ1kTFnhuPUBsOm2N3JfFWytina6AGiQ3bVT-K-BJqsLD0yYBursriQMv_JMHJatIHJLzHm-w_lqdHemUnwaZsSYGcWUlkMeqz041QDtD77dTwf7bRUvGdJGIcrharef-M6_Ej1BPdYH2mb_UPml9sf4hJyrhrk9py257q/w300-h400/PMBAR%20South%20MIlls%20River.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 11th crossing of South Mills River</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>Despite how arduous this section was, it was amazingly beautiful. With some massive trail love, this section could be outstanding! I have no regrets making this choice; Lisa might beg to differ! Now, I can say I have ridden ALL the trails in Pisgah ... yep, including Riverside and Vineyard Gap. There ought to be a buckle for that!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeWUWAeu3kkcRYT3zkhjfi_5FNcpo0iIl2GFwE5vQyQfP32qDzQ8bjRzLE7N6ySbIH7Juyykuo1V1pRsy8_x5aDUA7hJv0rtiDOd5-_bvU5-iUhL1XMuj0ceqxB7fGZalbRuv3PjdIVdAdoC6XJCx3PDAFbNl9b5AHb_9zR3Ywh5SvjdOzsVnwKtMb/s4032/PMBAR%20South%20Mills%20River%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeWUWAeu3kkcRYT3zkhjfi_5FNcpo0iIl2GFwE5vQyQfP32qDzQ8bjRzLE7N6ySbIH7Juyykuo1V1pRsy8_x5aDUA7hJv0rtiDOd5-_bvU5-iUhL1XMuj0ceqxB7fGZalbRuv3PjdIVdAdoC6XJCx3PDAFbNl9b5AHb_9zR3Ywh5SvjdOzsVnwKtMb/w400-h300/PMBAR%20South%20Mills%20River%202.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Forbidden Zone</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Finally we made it to Wolf Ford. My knee and I survived, although a downed tree did grab my foot and yank me down backwards, tweaking it some, with me exclaiming, "I am officially tired!" Pisgah was determined to not let me go completely unscathed.</div><div><br /></div><div>Filling up our bottles one last time, I struggled with Lisa's filter. Fortunately a fellow Marji masochist, Richard, lent me his. My forearms and hands thanked him. I ate the last of my food, two gels, with 100 grams caffeine each. Vroom! Vroom! Back on the good portion of South Mills, we seemed to float up it to Buckhorn. I couldn't believe how smooth and hard-packed it was!</div><div><br /></div><div>Then down Clawhammer gravel and back up to Black on Maxwell gravel. It was so nice to be able to keep on riding instead of the short HAB in year's past. Once at the tippy top, it was 2 miles and and a 1300 foot drop down to the finish. The trail was primo, but the caffeine burst I had the past hour was gone. The descent hurt. My eyeballs were bouncing around in my head and my brain felt like it was being concussed. I had to slow down as I was getting dizzy ... weird.</div><div><br /></div><div>We rolled across the finish line in 9 hours and 33 minutes. Having ridden 52 miles with 8000 feet of climbing, I was exhausted but my soul was full. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks, Lisa, for an amazing day in the forest, and being patient during my struggles. You are one helluva partner, and I look forward to our next adventure.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am grateful for my healing. I am grateful for being able to do what I love. I am grateful for all my trail friends (and hope we still are Gordon and Emily, after that little bushwhack 😉). I am grateful that Eric continues to take pleasure in pushing us to our limits. I am grateful for my I-9 wheels who chewed up and spit out an unknown amount of sticks on the South Mills "forbidden section." Lesser spokes woulda caved! I am grateful for Chamois Butt'r coming to my taint's rescue after being submerged during all those river crossings.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgL-yJtclH-KvZJ6G82oqeBhqdBcYGtsO3-VwrSORr0G4pEhbyBXGQhBueTvOdEq53iXqszxe-APGezXGmrJEtgNQ4O3qF0okvZQ27b4g8HRdbFcUnQkiB0fZx0K-p9JVlJikmSPgvsOtTG56egpdVUF2FXpz0OloxaGJ4H5SJpPqREYgkL8fRQezA/s1080/344730795_758580639063406_1990640461784905463_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgL-yJtclH-KvZJ6G82oqeBhqdBcYGtsO3-VwrSORr0G4pEhbyBXGQhBueTvOdEq53iXqszxe-APGezXGmrJEtgNQ4O3qF0okvZQ27b4g8HRdbFcUnQkiB0fZx0K-p9JVlJikmSPgvsOtTG56egpdVUF2FXpz0OloxaGJ4H5SJpPqREYgkL8fRQezA/w400-h266/344730795_758580639063406_1990640461784905463_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Strong women up there!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7nor5ISbGypJhYHinwhx4llfEIC3wgtZ_VdPPh6SeqpXXPgr4pJdZnUPGzcBwiZgFsYbQc_zjEZL9nQkPDqakdmtc1htKvnoEe7oGVriyuhYljix8cgcBJFSOMkQyNsZsVo8oMjTOchWbKYZS-L2V3mV1WEnDyTZkb4VeyBK6rOAdL53fIi1cNPXQ/s4032/PMBAR%20buckle%20and%20race%20plate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7nor5ISbGypJhYHinwhx4llfEIC3wgtZ_VdPPh6SeqpXXPgr4pJdZnUPGzcBwiZgFsYbQc_zjEZL9nQkPDqakdmtc1htKvnoEe7oGVriyuhYljix8cgcBJFSOMkQyNsZsVo8oMjTOchWbKYZS-L2V3mV1WEnDyTZkb4VeyBK6rOAdL53fIi1cNPXQ/w300-h400/PMBAR%20buckle%20and%20race%20plate.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pisgah "ride all the trails" completion buckle<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-69329685414248903762023-05-04T20:00:00.001-04:002023-05-04T20:00:29.778-04:00Sandlin's Shred Race Report<p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQDoBCrytvzZTslkkXudkvkdpy4ItHVFA1tBGkwWVctNY1sy_tHierWZzeOIns9mu63bRdmgGZIvQxuocbYlYmmEPTPLxgoA9889X1jOMszYkIgAesjhFOL9ZrntjTCYKFrmL1-wVQnUDMPGCyifAY291tU6uHbbiVfwVJ5bl4qDQUcA5-mtpBBTLt/s2783/War%20Daddy%20-%20Sandlin's%20Shred%20finish%20selfie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2783" data-original-width="2067" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQDoBCrytvzZTslkkXudkvkdpy4ItHVFA1tBGkwWVctNY1sy_tHierWZzeOIns9mu63bRdmgGZIvQxuocbYlYmmEPTPLxgoA9889X1jOMszYkIgAesjhFOL9ZrntjTCYKFrmL1-wVQnUDMPGCyifAY291tU6uHbbiVfwVJ5bl4qDQUcA5-mtpBBTLt/w298-h400/War%20Daddy%20-%20Sandlin's%20Shred%20finish%20selfie.jpg" width="298" /></a><br /><br /></p><p>Sandlin's Shred is War Daddy's little brother. Even though it is only 32 miles, it has 5000 feet of punchy, technical gain. While War Daddy is touted as the hardest bike race in Kentucky, Sandlin's Shred could easily be purported to be the second hardest. Race director John Maggard, aka Trail_Sick, puts on a wonderful event, what with tons of schwag, raffles, food, and beer. I love love love the vibe of this grassroots event. The number of registered racers has grown throughout the years, from a small group of 40 in 2019 to 115 for this edition.</p><p>It has been 3 weeks since my knee injury. I had an MRI done 3 days ago, but would not know the results until the week after the race. My doctor was worried about a meniscal tear, while I was hoping for a Grade 1 medial collateral ligament tear. With a rapid improvement in pain over the past 10 days, I was hopeful I could at least ride, if not race, the shorter distance.</p><p>Although it poured rain the day before, I woke up to a warm 60 degrees and clear skies. Both races incorporate pavement, gravel/dirt, and trail. I can count on my fingers the number of gravel bikes that have attempted either race since its inception in 2019. I think I saw two this morning ... poor bastards 😆. I chose Ripley, my Trek SuperCaliber, with 2.3 Bontrager XR3 on the front and a 2.2 XR2 on the rear. I was running SRAM AXS with a 32T chainring and a 10-52 cassette. At 22 pounds, I would take the 3.5 pound penalty over my gravel bike.</p><p>After Trevor's shotgun start <i>(he shotgunned a beer), </i>it was fairly neutral for the first two miles on pavement ... well, until the e-bikes started up the climb. Then everyone began to hammer. I tried, but at this point my engine was not warmed up, and I was nervous about how my knee might respond to the increased wattage. <i>The past 3 weeks had been easy spinning.</i> So I let them go, along with 5 women.</p><p>Towards the end of the climb, I reeled in two of the women as we turned onto gravel. This 8 mile section was beautiful and the rains has settled the gravel/dirt and made it fast. I could tell my fitness was off, as I struggled on the climbs. Fortunately my knee stayed pain-free, even when I attempted to put more power down. This made me VERY happy, as the past 3 weeks had me fighting off the depression demon. </p><p>I managed to catch another woman at the top of the Rattlesnake Run climb. From there is was some fun descending down Gilbert Creek Road (gravel as well). It was here that I reeled in Sarah. I passed her on the descent, but when I turned off the gravel onto a short section of flat pavement, she was right back on. We shared pulls until we turned off onto a rocky double track road, which soon pitched up to the heavens ... the War Daddy climb! With an average grade of 11%, it climbed 600 feet over a mile. Sarah slowly pulled ahead, but then lost traction on the loose chunky rock, and began HAB'ing. I was able to make a pass, at a snail's pace, but I was still pedaling. I was bound not to get off and push, as my knee clearly did not like dismounting and HAB'ing. </p><p>Sarah soon caught back up to me as we crested the climb. Over the next 5 miles we would leapfrog each other as she was strong on the climbs and I was faster on the descents. Around mile 16, I was treated with a "new to 2023" section of single track. Old school and hand-cut, I giggled with excitement as I rode this 1 mile section. I also managed to pull away from Sarah. It was in great shape, save for a few muddy spots. As it dipped down into a creek and then abruptly turned up on the other side, I respected my knee's wishes, got off and walked it. I knew that any out of the saddle bursts of torque were off-limits. </p><p>Popping out onto more gravel, I motored over to the aid station at mile 18. The volunteers were super helpful. I was in and out in a flash, after topping off my bottle and grabbing a Gu. As I headed out of the aid station, I glanced back, half expecting to see Sarah, but did not.</p><p>Even though the course was well marked, when I came upon the mile section of gravel which you repeat on Sandlin's Shred, I momentarily lost confidence in my navigation. Memories of my navigational error at Gravel World's last year made me doubt myself now. So I stopped for a moment and zoomed my map out ... all was well. </p><p>I started pedaling again and began picking the pace back up when my left leg cramped! Holy cow, that hurt! At that moment I definitely knew that my fitness had tanked because I NEVER cramp. I also must have been pushing a little harder with my left leg than my right leg with the injured knee. I shifted into granny and began to spin easy until it released. "Meter your effort" became my new mantra.</p><p>Soon I hit the 6 mile section of single track, part of the Redbud moto trail system. The rains had made it muddy and slick. I was wishing for a dropper through some of the trickier descents. The HAB's grew in distance and number compared to last year when it was dry. My knee began to twinge with some pain during them. I managed to figure out how to place the right foot as to minimize any torque on the knee. I also wisely chose to walk a couple descents for fear of re-injury, although the walking was almost as scary.</p><p>After a bazillion mudholes, riding some, but skirting around most, I popped out onto the coal mine section. Only 6 miles to go, but damn, that's a long 6 miles! Felt more like 10! I was so tired but had to keep hammering. Around each corner I was hoping to catch a glimpse of first place. When that didn't happen, I was desperately hoping that the road would turn downward to the final descent to the finish line. That never happened! Like for a LONG time! I finally lost my shit with about 2 to go and started cussing the damn mine!😄😄😄</p><p>At last, there she was ... the rutted out, baby-head rocks galore gravel road! At this point, I lost all concern with my knee and just let Ripley eat this descent like a lab "hoovering" up chow! I rolled across the finish line in 3:11. My goal had been 3 hours, but I will gladly take the additional 11 minutes, because today was a huge success. Today my fitness hurt more than my knee, but that is something that can be improved. </p><p>And then I was told that I had won! The woman who was ahead of me was in the e-bike category, so yea me! Icing on the cake!</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4CniLNqfGmeydVpeWvI9FnFxhaehrY9aUC_xyRpdE4Kui3dkTZZ-WAwlvb9dWnfQH49UCeX0X41R8jPjrgBfpBMaZLpSGIpujlHYMFbWOZ7HfDbgKTmmlPrLKwgymNieMR0e3_iuD9aTldksWMs9G987A4m2yWFnTcLYhLI4wtzuanFhAnOy4R73E/s3051/War%20Daddy%20podium.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3051" data-original-width="2224" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4CniLNqfGmeydVpeWvI9FnFxhaehrY9aUC_xyRpdE4Kui3dkTZZ-WAwlvb9dWnfQH49UCeX0X41R8jPjrgBfpBMaZLpSGIpujlHYMFbWOZ7HfDbgKTmmlPrLKwgymNieMR0e3_iuD9aTldksWMs9G987A4m2yWFnTcLYhLI4wtzuanFhAnOy4R73E/w291-h400/War%20Daddy%20podium.jpg" width="291" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>There was plenty of food and drink at the finish line, as well as a bike wash, so I cleaned up and then refueled while waiting the arrival of Dave and John, who raced the War Daddy. I must say, it was nice to just sit, relax, and chat amongst the Shredders for a few hours. I had briefly thought that I could have raced the big one, but realized, while icing the knee, that I had made the right decision. I hated not being able to defend the helmet, but there's always next year!</p><p>Both John and Dave had a good race, with John getting a few bonus miles missing a turn. Later that evening, there was an after party at Wendover B&B. The race director's family and friends brought home-cooked food and there was plenty of beer and moonshine for those that wanted to get saucy! After the meal, we all gathered around the fire and listened to guitar music, under a moonlit sky. Now THIS is what I call a well run small town big country event. Kentucky gravel is no joke!</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNzWfHrpGAgM4y-0UqXf1TUijx_ctanzY7dE-3KXJI9qLdTwvNqTM7NJud7pspqkLl5xxmw1iQQVMOmeM3odHW6_QqTwUAznWJQ84vEg_EbJ9iXdUyUNhPYVK9evcG83xzckcUi95rH3kZXLDVmq0w-jx0iuZOl8ypESaTPhLNX2qIbnd7K_RkDqSY/s4032/War%20Daddy%20-%20Trevor%20and%20John.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNzWfHrpGAgM4y-0UqXf1TUijx_ctanzY7dE-3KXJI9qLdTwvNqTM7NJud7pspqkLl5xxmw1iQQVMOmeM3odHW6_QqTwUAznWJQ84vEg_EbJ9iXdUyUNhPYVK9evcG83xzckcUi95rH3kZXLDVmq0w-jx0iuZOl8ypESaTPhLNX2qIbnd7K_RkDqSY/w300-h400/War%20Daddy%20-%20Trevor%20and%20John.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tips by Trevor: how to read a GPS track<br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIer5iPd52h9stLalVSOWNqgZIqcTuMXw2Qxnd0LMtPodaaBG4erDzts_lr8HnB4oyafW0xTt-ybFBxjINqG5P-TskrRkPmUMMM-E7GHNof46fT_8cySVxz2oWqqZ6E7oOgvkR0PLdKP14SgUGMqy4wmdFnd1N6gAB4u5X481IUGvgBR_EC07yqp2z/s4032/War%20daddy%20-%20John%20and%20Dave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIer5iPd52h9stLalVSOWNqgZIqcTuMXw2Qxnd0LMtPodaaBG4erDzts_lr8HnB4oyafW0xTt-ybFBxjINqG5P-TskrRkPmUMMM-E7GHNof46fT_8cySVxz2oWqqZ6E7oOgvkR0PLdKP14SgUGMqy4wmdFnd1N6gAB4u5X481IUGvgBR_EC07yqp2z/w300-h400/War%20daddy%20-%20John%20and%20Dave.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love my Rescue Racing team mates!<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJGIuKPQUtcFOPRGJatZfeRbyrHW4V7KYlu9H739kNiKwvf-31LjTwFHTsLNwVkmR4qOx8f5WlG4pjl95fmcqM2IzIBZyHaoHKug6R18TtipyYUAIRj0Vj21T6j0YuHijusOLf-cGl4PXuKb_TwS30CfyQApMLv34u4XltndxwJlgrjH6X05UvkH1U/s4032/War%20Daddy%201st%20place%20Sandlin's%20Shred.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJGIuKPQUtcFOPRGJatZfeRbyrHW4V7KYlu9H739kNiKwvf-31LjTwFHTsLNwVkmR4qOx8f5WlG4pjl95fmcqM2IzIBZyHaoHKug6R18TtipyYUAIRj0Vj21T6j0YuHijusOLf-cGl4PXuKb_TwS30CfyQApMLv34u4XltndxwJlgrjH6X05UvkH1U/w300-h400/War%20Daddy%201st%20place%20Sandlin's%20Shred.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moonshine to the winners!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-50371187464467436872023-03-26T21:16:00.002-04:002023-03-26T21:18:23.902-04:00Oak Mountain Adventure Race<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiud5bCaHlkn2XxLB50osl2z1bA3-wzo4XC-0ukulbSXekgKawVvmKPcnFqCkEeDEDCcxGV8ITzsNLl19Ba98bQMe3R--t50pvcjmaTFyDOAcowQ_I3hqb0yPHqMRBhri_GAVSJ_Dl8gLgxWPAmAVakTXtvazfVzthzSe2DjrpT25ipk_F0nqsceqvc/s2048/OMAR%20Team%20Warrior.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiud5bCaHlkn2XxLB50osl2z1bA3-wzo4XC-0ukulbSXekgKawVvmKPcnFqCkEeDEDCcxGV8ITzsNLl19Ba98bQMe3R--t50pvcjmaTFyDOAcowQ_I3hqb0yPHqMRBhri_GAVSJ_Dl8gLgxWPAmAVakTXtvazfVzthzSe2DjrpT25ipk_F0nqsceqvc/w400-h300/OMAR%20Team%20Warrior.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p>A month ago Lisa asked me to do this adventure race, as her male team mate was out with an injury. This was supposed to be a shakedown for her big adventure in Arkansas April 3-8, the <a href="https://www.expeditionozark.com/">Expedition Ozark</a>. This would be a first for me and I am not gonna lie; I was definitely nervous. Lisa had been putting in a crap ton of training for Expedition Ozark; I was worried that I might have a hard time hanging onto her pace. But fuck it! As Robert Browning so wonderfully said it, "A man's reach should exceed his grasp." <i>(Funny, but this would literally come into play during the second trek).</i></p><p>Storms rolled through the night before, and the ground was wet as we arrived at the venue. But the forecast was near perfect: sunny skies and 57-78 degrees. This AR had a 10 hour cut off. 48 teams (1-4 people) were signed up. There was 1 paddle, 2 treks, and 2 bikes. Maps and CP's (a total of 32) were handed out at 6 am, which gave Lisa 2 hours to plot our course. She pulled out her box of Sharpies (like a kid with a 32 count Crayon box) and made short work of it. There were two TA's (transition areas). TA 1 was the Start/Finish area, from which we could choose paddle or the first trekking section. She decided to have us do the paddle section first (6 CP's) because she figured more teams would do the trek first. And she potentially did not want having a bunch of teams "up her butt" or "bird-dogging" us.</p><p>The lake was like glass as we paddled to our first checkpoint next to the spillway which was at the opposite end of the lake. All the paddle CP's were on land, so we would have to exit the canoe each time. The cool breeze felt good against my cheeks as we made our way. We (and I only say "we" as I should have said something about the spillway potentially being slippery, but I kept my mouth shut ... being the rookie) decided to land the canoe on the concrete that sloped 30 degrees into the water. Big mistake! I got out ok, but the boat started to drift backwards as Lisa was attempting to get out. My foot as well as hers hit the underwater portion of the concrete that was covered in algae and we both slowly slid down into the lake. We silently struggled as other canoes caught up to us, saw our predicament, and exited the water elsewhere. We somehow managed to get back up on the spillway, but it cost us a minute or two. </p><p>Fortunately we nailed the remaining 6 CP's with ease and finished the 4 mile paddle in just over an hour. Hopefully that would be the worst of our mistakes for today. Before we went back to TA #1 (which was essentially our vehicles), we ran and grabbed CP #1 on the trek, since it wasn't far from the canoe take out. Then we ran back to our vehicles and changed out our paddling shoes to dry running shoes. This first trek which included 6 CP's took less than 50 minutes and covered 3 1/2 miles. None of the CP's were directly on a trail. Here is where I saw Lisa shine! Navigating on the fly, bushwhacking off trail to find the CP's, she made not one mistake! I was amazed. It was like the checkpoints were chum and she was a tiger shark, coming in for the kill! Yep, that is her AR spirit animal. I would say mine is the sheep: pretty sure footed running up draws and scrambling up and over ridgelines as well as being a great follower 😆😆😆.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXKmw0oq-VamTjTZfI5IAMA0kgRrFxe4bB6Xkx3gTKUQrdCp7o-xZsG75kklVfaLKhkBhSKUR48FYSF6LnI3SoOeganSxXlYCCIZoQ9COAO1rg0prtxyw9XFcKb6GND1QTJphq5dAatFauA8TSln_JgmuF0hOeZEaOas6FblG3ulZDPBEo-KUYcBbk/s4032/OMAR,%20Lisa%20punching%20trek%20CP%20%232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXKmw0oq-VamTjTZfI5IAMA0kgRrFxe4bB6Xkx3gTKUQrdCp7o-xZsG75kklVfaLKhkBhSKUR48FYSF6LnI3SoOeganSxXlYCCIZoQ9COAO1rg0prtxyw9XFcKb6GND1QTJphq5dAatFauA8TSln_JgmuF0hOeZEaOas6FblG3ulZDPBEo-KUYcBbk/w300-h400/OMAR,%20Lisa%20punching%20trek%20CP%20%232.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Arriving back at our vehicles, we changed into our cycling gear. Since we would not be coming back to TA #1 until the finish, I secured my Hoka's to my Salomon running hydration vest. They fit perfectly in the trekking pole loops. </p><p>The first bike section was pretty straight forward. We rode up the paved Peavine Falls Road, grabbing two CP's along the way. I was on the struggle bus up this climb, as my running legs and cycling legs were not on the same page. This biking portion was 5 miles long and took about 35 minutes. TA #2 was at the top of the mountain. Here we ditched the bikes and put on our running shoes. I thought I was transitioning pretty fast, but Lisa was already moving out on the second trek as I was stuffing my face with a PayDay and trying to chase it down with water. She would give Clark Kent a run for his money in the transition time department.</p><p>This second trek was longer and more laborious and the ascents/descents were long and steep. There were 9 CP's and we hit them in this order: 15, 16, 17, 19, 20, 21, 22, 18, and 23. Checkpoint #17 was the most difficult as it was the furthest off trail and was at the bottom of a tiny waterfall. You definitely had to be on your A game to find this one. Lisa rose to the occasion and skillfully got us there with no meandering.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbq4Hb1xvDRPb6gCrZxRds2NmhWg1MUt452TXm-oUWOkNbE9QCrTJV-Ub-ufrmnpnFvhjiZScJ4AX3U-syDqFi11uRGDFeqxz90o408zcaIyyBaD27uCz-op41NRRzUWztBdsuXgTRBZ8rQJpZpIenD5gJpTT_P5337vJYQFTPKC1R-AhyA7LhK0V8/s4032/OMAR%20Trek%20CP%20%2317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbq4Hb1xvDRPb6gCrZxRds2NmhWg1MUt452TXm-oUWOkNbE9QCrTJV-Ub-ufrmnpnFvhjiZScJ4AX3U-syDqFi11uRGDFeqxz90o408zcaIyyBaD27uCz-op41NRRzUWztBdsuXgTRBZ8rQJpZpIenD5gJpTT_P5337vJYQFTPKC1R-AhyA7LhK0V8/w300-h400/OMAR%20Trek%20CP%20%2317.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So impressed with my teamy!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>The next CP had us bushwhacking straight up and over the mountain, gaining 500 feet in 1/2 mile. All the bear crawls I have done at my local gym finally paid off. We grabbed one on the ridge then scrambled down the other side to grab another, then up and over another ridge to get another. They all seemed to involve bushwhacking with lots of ascent/descent. My quads, calves, and achilles were put through the ringer. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtLpKHkXUhYvOMCticjWK9aUEZtFpG-XL4QpSz07jHj7JMPSvJ8tlA5IaFCrZg-eNZDMF8Za0Deruw1EvchQPtgwpJ9wrwRAUwZ_Fmp74M8Ou4dE4bq5w5pLGHERKhtLYT258eO_1qbts6Qh7mYKi927U7Qeoo2cFZkLaNl6PdtmE7-_4SLgMvGGwr/s4032/OMAR%20Trek%20CP%20%23%2019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtLpKHkXUhYvOMCticjWK9aUEZtFpG-XL4QpSz07jHj7JMPSvJ8tlA5IaFCrZg-eNZDMF8Za0Deruw1EvchQPtgwpJ9wrwRAUwZ_Fmp74M8Ou4dE4bq5w5pLGHERKhtLYT258eO_1qbts6Qh7mYKi927U7Qeoo2cFZkLaNl6PdtmE7-_4SLgMvGGwr/w300-h400/OMAR%20Trek%20CP%20%23%2019.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CP #19</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Then came the checkpoint at Peavine Falls. There was a trail down to the base of the falls and let me tell you; it was pretty treacherous and involved 3 points of contact. You definitely did not want to roll an ankle or trip over your feet because there was not a railing or fence to catch you from plummeting 20 yards straight down. The kicker was the placement of the CP. Remember the previous words of Robert Browning ...</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJBTtFA2A4hcbBb7LELaXmdFjOrpZ9rFdcqC5EJXoyhzQuHY2v1nt-bTusAcwvO76Mug6gcJ-2jyJIWZmntKPmtGO4Pf4ihOEtkw5oe0niy1WBtlFVdMdUurBWMB08LX0dzV4bHhGEyCTMfTI8eA2Kk7l_jUDhjnLdiG-CHN64IqmQsf7zsXtZBs0b/s4032/OMAR,%20Lisa%20punching%20Pea%20Vine%20Falls%20CP%20%2318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJBTtFA2A4hcbBb7LELaXmdFjOrpZ9rFdcqC5EJXoyhzQuHY2v1nt-bTusAcwvO76Mug6gcJ-2jyJIWZmntKPmtGO4Pf4ihOEtkw5oe0niy1WBtlFVdMdUurBWMB08LX0dzV4bHhGEyCTMfTI8eA2Kk7l_jUDhjnLdiG-CHN64IqmQsf7zsXtZBs0b/w300-h400/OMAR,%20Lisa%20punching%20Pea%20Vine%20Falls%20CP%20%2318.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"A man's reach should exceed his grasp."</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Lisa was tippy toe ballerina style to punch the card, ripping it in the process. That ledge she was on was super slick. I had to enlist the help of a tall dude enjoying a Saturday with his family at the falls to help get Lisa back down off that ledge! </p><p>Seven miles and 2 hours 20 minutes later and we were back at TA 2. I had emptied my hydration bladder 45 minutes prior so that ice cold Coke was a life saver. While changing back to bike shoes, getting more water and refueling, we discovered that we were the first ones back from the trek. That was encouraging! I gulped down 2 gels (90 mg caffeine each), because I knew the last biking section was gonna get rowdy. I could tell Lisa was going in for the kill!</p><p>It felt so good to be back on the bike. I got to ride the Thunder and Slingshot for the first time. Checkpoint 25 we hit from two different angles. Lisa was "on the money" the first time we started bushwhacking down to it; we just did not go far enough. Approaching it from a further bit down the bike trail involved a butt slide down (had to be 45 degrees steep) and a claw your way back to the top. </p><p>I still don't know how Lisa managed to know exactly when to get off the trail and begin bushwhacking and looking for the three dimensional orange and white framed flags. That lady has a gift for looking at the map and reading the terrain ... while riding her bike. Un-f'ing-believable. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMy0poOXhwk60vjoN4smalOB83YS3xPhN0C4y5wdVqhpQMGEtGSiC6uymddu5DO4_sY85mTFy2jQo5s1c-z3euYaLH8qhPo4DROaWisKatacry7l7efZRxBPYWR9pgG_kDxKy728vQfgBJVnazYL7xvuUXDK3vANufyvu5BnWvwwtEiPYiWhG7uqEV/s4032/OMAR%20CP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMy0poOXhwk60vjoN4smalOB83YS3xPhN0C4y5wdVqhpQMGEtGSiC6uymddu5DO4_sY85mTFy2jQo5s1c-z3euYaLH8qhPo4DROaWisKatacry7l7efZRxBPYWR9pgG_kDxKy728vQfgBJVnazYL7xvuUXDK3vANufyvu5BnWvwwtEiPYiWhG7uqEV/w300-h400/OMAR%20CP.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of these were hiding behind trees or rocks.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>Other than CP 25, she was only one spur off CP 27. Towards the end of the bike section, we saw the second place team several times. It was getting down to the wire. Lisa pulled off the coup de grace when we used a horse trail and several bushwhacks by bike to secure the final 3 CP's.</p><p>The last bike section was 15 miles and took us 2 1/2 hours. We hit the finish in a final time of 7 hours 34 minutes, clearing the course with all 32 checkpoints. Total mileage was 35 miles with 5000 feet of climbing (3000 feet ascent/descent was the 2 trekking portions). </p><p>That was 55 minutes faster than the predicted time of 8 1/2 hours. My first AR experience and we were first overall! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTItwg5JVNqVjQCePNFi8AinlmV_RkiJrcRnKArrtsuGDffLzyQ91x-GYneGGmhMk8_pwcK1QnfKRKgY-U2iC0nYaJNrPCroMUXkLIQ14xyG9v6H_eF0FFKk5pye0IXQuZgcmoF-BWnXC_Bf3FIqGk53dvSuc3wPYukuDUUppKNqA6w_fbhO9vO2Wa/s4032/OMAR%20trophy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTItwg5JVNqVjQCePNFi8AinlmV_RkiJrcRnKArrtsuGDffLzyQ91x-GYneGGmhMk8_pwcK1QnfKRKgY-U2iC0nYaJNrPCroMUXkLIQ14xyG9v6H_eF0FFKk5pye0IXQuZgcmoF-BWnXC_Bf3FIqGk53dvSuc3wPYukuDUUppKNqA6w_fbhO9vO2Wa/w300-h400/OMAR%20trophy.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Thanks Lisa for believing in me ... and allowing me to get those last punches in. I was so nervous I would not punch it right or punch the wrong CP or drop the punch card. Thank you baby Jesus for no mistakes on my part.</p><p>No doubt it was hard for me, so I can only imagine the pressure that was upon Lisa, being the ONLY navigator on the team. She was smooth as silk. She only showed the slightest frustration during CP 25 and only for a minute. She was able to redirect quickly and efficiently and we lost minimal time there. I have no doubt, barring any misfortune, Team Warrior is going to perform well at Expedition Ozark. I cannot wait to watch the Live Feed.</p><p>As for me, I absolutely love this kind of racing. It reminds me of being a kid and adventuring through our farm and nearby farms with my brothers. Back in the days when trespassing wasn't a big deal. We would dress up in camo, pack a sandwich, and follow creeks and pretend we were "living off the land." At least until we started getting hungry again and then head back home.</p><p>If I am going to continue with this AR thing, I feel the need to at least learn to read maps better. The Master Men's winner was 74 years old, so that gives me twenty years ... right?</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQk3wXAKzlvn2SFfXSnZgSqDwfzKnyjEoUeN2yvgs453c8J37_5H4Z2a4nJV2lLxt7QoqT3fDFRh6EnPaPaS5SBqZNeKRUsni6wEuxmqzxhPzyAZRviijsoscuxkDf8mQEHnXY5d4yb6-4q8wU-3HJh2iv3N0T3B1zKwo6XRmNwSaXMLaSF6Xvsv3z/s4032/OMAR%20finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQk3wXAKzlvn2SFfXSnZgSqDwfzKnyjEoUeN2yvgs453c8J37_5H4Z2a4nJV2lLxt7QoqT3fDFRh6EnPaPaS5SBqZNeKRUsni6wEuxmqzxhPzyAZRviijsoscuxkDf8mQEHnXY5d4yb6-4q8wU-3HJh2iv3N0T3B1zKwo6XRmNwSaXMLaSF6Xvsv3z/w300-h400/OMAR%20finish.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p> </p>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-50686132907796108642023-03-18T16:24:00.002-04:002023-03-18T16:24:07.208-04:00Garland Mountain 10K Trail Race<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Zq_w_nd0vRwTcLAkYK7DBHh4W3p_Qir8H8mS6646xBq-CiMcFwXizvjZ-LowMmNRz5Jn0x7QtMOlh-h4VpgAN1I1bONX9R7LjqsTYD6oLWfvYDvrRnufvAEd_IeDo4Xhzc7Owx09UigOiZ7Hj7lYOSVdFIpGaJtl_eITDXK3tiTGzgJGDq0B8L8x/s4032/Garland%20Mountain%20Race%20T.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Zq_w_nd0vRwTcLAkYK7DBHh4W3p_Qir8H8mS6646xBq-CiMcFwXizvjZ-LowMmNRz5Jn0x7QtMOlh-h4VpgAN1I1bONX9R7LjqsTYD6oLWfvYDvrRnufvAEd_IeDo4Xhzc7Owx09UigOiZ7Hj7lYOSVdFIpGaJtl_eITDXK3tiTGzgJGDq0B8L8x/w300-h400/Garland%20Mountain%20Race%20T.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So soft and comfy ... the Vuori of race T's</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>Initially I had signed up for the 1/2 marathon distance, but a nagging patellar ligament injury led me to drop down to the 10k. I had raced the 1/2 last year for the first time and had a blast. Rolling into the venue at 7 am after a 2 hour drive, I was happy to be racing the shorter distance. Old Man Winter is not giving up too easily this spring and the temperature was 32 degrees with 10mph winds.</p><p>After doing half of my warm up from inside the cab of my truck (when you are small, the passenger area of Biggie G is perfect for some glute/hip activation exercises and dynamic stretching), I hopped out and ran a few laps around the parking lot.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqjc8HSYuNju9ISAHifDU_ysJLDZIDlovTjXyOr-NJeqMbLZyFbUAnWEtVcmn2glP2fRvdvfjVp7wGHnMlsAWWbsSJiChP0yOir_Vty4jFWvXcrQ28vntlwdx5TWEJag9AxNt5bI3D5Kvl0bLJNHqZpIWyPZg_N4xQf8ADvRaqAseLav7ETaej04Y/s4032/Garland%20Mountain%20Warmup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqjc8HSYuNju9ISAHifDU_ysJLDZIDlovTjXyOr-NJeqMbLZyFbUAnWEtVcmn2glP2fRvdvfjVp7wGHnMlsAWWbsSJiChP0yOir_Vty4jFWvXcrQ28vntlwdx5TWEJag9AxNt5bI3D5Kvl0bLJNHqZpIWyPZg_N4xQf8ADvRaqAseLav7ETaej04Y/w300-h400/Garland%20Mountain%20Warmup.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My warm up view from inside the truck</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The race started with me hitting the single track in the top 5. Wait? What am I doing up here? I was going way too fast ... slow down greyhound! It was hard to settle in at first since the beginning was a steady descent. When the trail began to rise, I slowed down as my breathing started to become ragged. Yes, it was only 6+ miles, but I did not need to implode in the first half.<div><br /></div><div>Yesterday, Lisa had messaged me and said to expect sloppy muddy trails, as she was signing the course in a steady rain. However, the winds during the night must have helped because it was not as bad as I was anticipating. Last night had me worried about the integrity of my ligaments if I were to experience a slip n slide (think torn ACL or hip labrum). Within that first mile, I knew I was going to be ok. While wet and muddy in spots, overall it was in good shape. And my Hoka Speedgoats never once lost grip.</div><div><br /></div><div>As I made my way through miles 2 and 3, I was passed by a few racers. I was running comfortably hard and knew there were just 2 women ahead of me. As fast as they had gone out, I wasn't expecting to catch them, but wanting to try to hold 3rd. </div><div><br /></div><div>At the point in the race where the 2 distances split (4.5 mile mark), the 10k'rs were sent up this steep ass climb. This segment was 1/4 mile long at an average grade of 12% ... ouch. I just kept telling myself at least I was not pushing a bike, just myself. My running went to power hiking in the middle, but once I saw the crest, I began running again.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next mile rolled and I was able to recover a little. The final mile included a long steep descent followed by a gut punch 1/2 mile climb to the finish. The descent was technical, what with loose rock as well as some deep muddy spots. For whatever reason, I felt confident sending it. My footwork has definitely improved over the past year or two. </div><div><br /></div><div>The final climb was a challenge to not slow down. My monkey brain was all about "let's just enjoy this finish and take it easy." Well, FU monkey! I pushed through the pain of ragged breathing and heavy legs, wanting to achieve my goal of a sub 1 hour finish. So ... stinkin' ... close ... 1:01:21.</div><div><br /></div><div>I ended up 1st AG and 2nd O/A, so extremely satisfied. Even though my heart longs for the longer distances, my body quite likes the "fast and furious" short stuff. Wisdom is telling me that not every competition has to be "big and dumb." So I am going to take this to heart and rethink the remainder of this season.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyjH6W4f43k02kU0myoG48j07pSWgcl6ZGpeM_WB2iZ-KwCdj3egL-HrJ80_jLSO8wzDKvIKbjxRumOBsbMvTkeEnyMjgvz5A5dootmpXdHqxHWzRmvRgnz2mQsV9TgIUgB1eTbaLJDd-4Rj8iUQzXf3ysNh-sK6e5eY81xsGYW0OFTTrhUpvHVm8M/s4032/Garland%20Mountain%20Finish%20Selfie.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyjH6W4f43k02kU0myoG48j07pSWgcl6ZGpeM_WB2iZ-KwCdj3egL-HrJ80_jLSO8wzDKvIKbjxRumOBsbMvTkeEnyMjgvz5A5dootmpXdHqxHWzRmvRgnz2mQsV9TgIUgB1eTbaLJDd-4Rj8iUQzXf3ysNh-sK6e5eY81xsGYW0OFTTrhUpvHVm8M/w300-h400/Garland%20Mountain%20Finish%20Selfie.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><p><br /></p></div>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-16787672089474993862023-03-17T12:46:00.002-04:002023-03-17T12:46:59.510-04:00Snake Creek Gap TT -- 34 Mile<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbfqb_79dfuoMVm2i-qDEnZzH5BfmqbiAVIwqN79dafi3mFbP0HgULYtvNK7Vgg64u738NgUADx73VicszduhFopvLwWW_KoUWuZP0Mob3nx2P1h7sD2DL5Y8mVOq1FyuNA78uStfqo7l6frgj2GFPPNOkf_w-WSHpMokbnu1md-5Vy7Vz2_kQlVVZ/s4032/The%20Snake%20t-shirt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbfqb_79dfuoMVm2i-qDEnZzH5BfmqbiAVIwqN79dafi3mFbP0HgULYtvNK7Vgg64u738NgUADx73VicszduhFopvLwWW_KoUWuZP0Mob3nx2P1h7sD2DL5Y8mVOq1FyuNA78uStfqo7l6frgj2GFPPNOkf_w-WSHpMokbnu1md-5Vy7Vz2_kQlVVZ/w300-h400/The%20Snake%20t-shirt.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>What a difference one month later makes. Even though the starting temperature was 33 degrees, I was never once was cold. The light rain the night before did not affect trail conditions. The course was dry and fast. "Fast" for Snake standards is still dauntingly tough; every year the rocks grow and the steeper sections get more blown out. </p><p>I managed to get off the line a little after 8 am, thanking the volunteers for "turning the heat up" this month. I would be more than happy to contribute to the heat bill next year, if they needed the funds for February, too. There were still a couple puddles to dance around in the first two miles and I used the first climb to warm up the engine. The first bit of single track was quite "sticky,"; lots of blow downs and smaller limbs to contend with. Staying conservative, I dismounted for most of the log crossings; one thing I have not mastered is log hopping.</p><p>Cruising down the gravel moguls, I had a difficult time accessing my pocket for my gel flask. Once I managed to get it, I then had to hold it in my mouth until the ensuing climb. I got squirrely on the descent off Pine Needle Hill, but managed to save it. The "horsed up" area around Pocket Road had improved significantly over last month. I found the "secret passage" through the following creek crossing and kept my feet dry.</p><p>The Horn Mountain climb was no easier; this one is always a gut punch for me. I rolled down into the parking lot aid station in 1:59. Only 9 minutes faster than last month ... hmmm. And those 9 minutes were probably all due to improved course conditions. I also noticed my heart rate never exceeded 150 on the climbs; well below what I am used to. I did the same as last month, ditching the CamelBak, grabbing a bottle, and chugging a gel.</p><p>Middle Mountain was pleasant. I had just ridden this section a few days ago with Honcho leading the way. I imagined him and his floofy little pantalones just ahead of me as I ground my way up this 1.5 mile climb.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhZNt6wEsWwvQWQUu1cTwE1J7fnTMc2gpNswp17RGcufHHbez_2zoIUflErc7sBh-vECGlr-wVdAsTcgR6nbO8JPPZ5kc_k2LpuL0Ej1KFLReqmPtdqHmb5OlEgx7kJ0Ga3HFrw_RNsf6Tur2a5Z3cZ7qLquTbp0zw6weOKllKnxxavlLjISwXtxt/s4032/Oswald%20Dome%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhZNt6wEsWwvQWQUu1cTwE1J7fnTMc2gpNswp17RGcufHHbez_2zoIUflErc7sBh-vECGlr-wVdAsTcgR6nbO8JPPZ5kc_k2LpuL0Ej1KFLReqmPtdqHmb5OlEgx7kJ0Ga3HFrw_RNsf6Tur2a5Z3cZ7qLquTbp0zw6weOKllKnxxavlLjISwXtxt/w300-h400/Oswald%20Dome%202.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>I cruised the descent, plowed through the creek crossings, and then began climbing up to the single track section. I was tired but in my happy place and looking forward to challenging myself on the endless rock gardens for the umpteenth time. I dropped my seat on the vomit hill descent and, at the bottome, when I hit the button to raise it ... nothing. Grrrr! All momentum was lost. I stopped, removed my seat bag, uninstalled and then reinstalled the battery, and voila! It worked again. This was the second time this has happened to me with my AXS Reverb dropper. I HAB'd up to a level spot and hopped back on.<div><br /></div><div>I made short work of the remaining single track. Well, not really, but was having so much fun on this last section, the cell towers were there before I knew it. I finished up with an aero tuck down to the finish, riding through at 4:23.</div><div><br /></div><div>My second half of the race went much better, shaving off 12 minutes from last month. And feeling strong while doing it. And this second half of the course wasn't much different than last month's in terms of conditions, so I gotta say it was my fitness that did it here. At least that is what I am telling myself.</div><div><br /></div><div>No other 40+ women showed up, so I took the W by default. I wish more women would race The Snake, but it takes you wanting to go to the "hurt locker" to sign up for it.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmoc3mE5wqLqPBQmQozi7S0a0Tz1uyakkhtrT2UHRTv3eLTTOG--tvX4gXE3LgJQZlgKXXXjOIR7aco8qxlP-uoyEQkEhiM_i1vRCxUqfrTcZu-Y44683osgD8-VMSRgGF8VWfGZ6Y1XW-8YzL8fMJSQlT2Hj-XBbUlM6GPwM8gibz7NJX84jPP493/s1440/The%20Snake%20podium.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmoc3mE5wqLqPBQmQozi7S0a0Tz1uyakkhtrT2UHRTv3eLTTOG--tvX4gXE3LgJQZlgKXXXjOIR7aco8qxlP-uoyEQkEhiM_i1vRCxUqfrTcZu-Y44683osgD8-VMSRgGF8VWfGZ6Y1XW-8YzL8fMJSQlT2Hj-XBbUlM6GPwM8gibz7NJX84jPP493/w400-h400/The%20Snake%20podium.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><p>Huge shout out to all the volunteers in making this happen, for the 19th year in a row. There is so much "behind-the-scenes" work to make this happen. It is no small feat and they give up a lot of their personal time, so that we can have fun for a few hours. I am afraid that next year, the 20th, may be The Snake's last. As much as I would love to continue to race this long into my 60's, if it is indeed the final one, I will shed some tears, but will continue to challenge myself on the "trail that bites!"</p><p>I also need to take a deep dive into my own health, as this inability to hit my heart rate at the higher end of my perceived efforts has me concerned. I feel ok, initial bloodwork is normal, but my cardiovascular system has been "off" since December. And then I got 2 respiratory infections, one the week before Christmas, and the other the week after my Florida bike-cation. Could they be a factor still? Time to get all "sciency". </p></div>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-83024142684032600902023-03-10T15:08:00.001-05:002023-03-10T15:08:47.756-05:00Deka Fit Race Report<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPcXG9pjWNzaO1TyEs2x1aS6uCVUOam7gfn6A2euyPwiB5Ma7FPHDku-gPDO0oWEMonRXuxB3QetfKavXtxc7_ZYH4s-raLkMbxotKHZJWRt-zcvJ9bhM6QdZTQzMrVCDzGOFKMtJAdBa91V9gAT1IZod47RimEzksg0YDT8_3gnflmyJ6P6uSvg7w/s3088/Deka%20Fit%20Selfie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPcXG9pjWNzaO1TyEs2x1aS6uCVUOam7gfn6A2euyPwiB5Ma7FPHDku-gPDO0oWEMonRXuxB3QetfKavXtxc7_ZYH4s-raLkMbxotKHZJWRt-zcvJ9bhM6QdZTQzMrVCDzGOFKMtJAdBa91V9gAT1IZod47RimEzksg0YDT8_3gnflmyJ6P6uSvg7w/w300-h400/Deka%20Fit%20Selfie.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">WTF am I doing?!?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>I was nervous; the usual butterflies were replaced by a knot in my stomach that was making me queezy. You see, this was a first for me. I was stepping into the unknown lands of a new kind of competition. Sure, I had done all these moves before, but at my gym, under no pressure, and not all in sequence, going as hard as you can.</p><p>Deka-Fit is just one of many competitions under the "umbrella" of Spartan races. This one had 10 zones, each preceded by a 500 meter run. </p><p>Zone 1: 30 alternating reverse lunges with a 33 pound RAM</p><p>Zone 2: 500 meter row</p><p>Zone 3: 20 box jump step over</p><p>Zone 4: 25 med ball sit-up throws</p><p>Zone 5: 500 meter ski</p><p>Zone 6: 100 meter farmer's carry with 2 40 pound dumbbells</p><p>Zone 7: 25 calorie air bike</p><p>Zone 8: 20 dead ball wall overs with 40 pound ball</p><p>Zone 9: 100 meter tank push/pull</p><p>Zone 10: 20 burpees with a 22 pound RAM</p><p><br /></p><p>I had done a "dress rehearsal" at a steady but not hard pace two weeks prior, which had taken me 54 minutes. My goal for today was sub-47 minutes. This was gonna be a fast and furious sprint!</p><p>I had signed up in the age group category. However, during registration, you picked a wave time, so you were not necessarily going head-to-head with others in your age group. (Something I wish Spartan would change, so I would know who I was racing against.) We were sent off in groups of 5 every 3-4 minutes. I was in the back, nervously fretting, when there was room for one more with a group of men. No other women wanted to move up, so I jumped on in with the dudes.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLRM9l8tuH5euWz1HT09GHk9yUw-KfnaeNGNYySviXedif00BvlpXvqF11OKTa_NzKLdGQj75sF4BNJ7YHoMXRHAM8ASuxJPBRVD69YdlfZwcBXSe72q18_5bl7vg_Q4U9FRNhWAJfa6uySGKepnGdfWTGUZwtctNJw4Tipydrp6S2t246exOFasSn/s1854/Deka-Fit%20Start.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1854" data-original-width="1614" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLRM9l8tuH5euWz1HT09GHk9yUw-KfnaeNGNYySviXedif00BvlpXvqF11OKTa_NzKLdGQj75sF4BNJ7YHoMXRHAM8ASuxJPBRVD69YdlfZwcBXSe72q18_5bl7vg_Q4U9FRNhWAJfa6uySGKepnGdfWTGUZwtctNJw4Tipydrp6S2t246exOFasSn/s320/Deka-Fit%20Start.jpg" width="279" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Let's get the party started already!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Each 500 meter run was 2 trips around the arena. I had done a proper warm up, so I felt good at the start. Although I felt I could run faster, I wisely settled in behind the guys. I entered Zone 1 and began lunging out the reps. There were referees that made sure you did the movements properly, as well as counting out the reps for you. I made a rookie mistake here, of not touching my knee to the ground ... twice. The ref did not catch it and gave me credit for the rep, but I corrected myself and ended up doing 2 extra reps.</p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxZ-zImOKRWQOZT_2DKUYtpy-YZ5zUyNMtWf5AmApV7E9CyZX3hqLiWj1MZ6w3bOhrAP5N4NjPoeaCLUBu6gg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /> <p></p><p>The second 500 meter run I don't even remember, probably because I was still feeling good. I do remember, though, having to weave around slower runners. Starting at 10:30 (first wave went at 9 am) meant there was a lot of traffic on course.</p><p>Coming into Zone 2, I made a quick transition onto the rower and began stroking out the meters. All systems were still going strong.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIDI0XDdxYsz-EF39u48cnq9-EJm8gZuDcm--sm3G6JcPnOFbbp6l3XVT_c4EZ1N-GpKaBdlCdMS4GuCxWCjHwcjNZL5rzrzJ1X3VzjOemv0gRNyAgI0isivJE7MnJgXPbzakVoHUAtVDlnA3RK7RsPqtnHzsRJI66Av2mFYgTZNe82u79u8EKWwq6/s2048/Deka%20Fit%20Row%20$.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIDI0XDdxYsz-EF39u48cnq9-EJm8gZuDcm--sm3G6JcPnOFbbp6l3XVT_c4EZ1N-GpKaBdlCdMS4GuCxWCjHwcjNZL5rzrzJ1X3VzjOemv0gRNyAgI0isivJE7MnJgXPbzakVoHUAtVDlnA3RK7RsPqtnHzsRJI66Av2mFYgTZNe82u79u8EKWwq6/w400-h266/Deka%20Fit%20Row%20$.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Coming off the row, my legs were still feeling great. I made quick work of the 2 laps and settled into Zone 3. The box here at the competition was padded and not as heavy as the wooden boxes at my gym, but my body adjusted quickly to the slight movement underneath as the stepped over. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyJG_Y0IixAo7UvxaMPnqpOJQvVfODEH0nf2guP4bLyxjPTcZz29tROoczvOSv107-TxCLP4D2rvhjDP4ktEg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>As I headed out for my 4th run, I felt the "sting" of the box overs and it took about a half a lap before the legs livened up. I entered Zone 4 and got into sit up position. Having practiced this at my gym where I was throwing the ball above a 4 1/2 foot line, I was pleasantly surprised that the strike plate here was significantly lower, which made knocking out those 25 reps much easier.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ll2Yg5ElCUhSRiAC0Gy9mp5LH--UVm4qa12M_FC6xfJbJxuKgpy-Bj9xE17C3RjzuFWLVL0ho5irXc3MG99JlLUqfFV76bqVgrcjeRBfXur-pcMKE_uxv7XON1ZtohEENJpbEe0c2V_1NbRGbnUHt3P2LHtsFS4ov69jcZrynYhL3MRBk8ssRIji/s2400/Deka-Fit%20Situp%20$.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2400" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ll2Yg5ElCUhSRiAC0Gy9mp5LH--UVm4qa12M_FC6xfJbJxuKgpy-Bj9xE17C3RjzuFWLVL0ho5irXc3MG99JlLUqfFV76bqVgrcjeRBfXur-pcMKE_uxv7XON1ZtohEENJpbEe0c2V_1NbRGbnUHt3P2LHtsFS4ov69jcZrynYhL3MRBk8ssRIji/w400-h266/Deka-Fit%20Situp%20$.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>Two more laps around and I entered Zone 5. By far, the ski felt the easiest. I focused on using my upper body to pull down, allowing my legs a little bit of a breather. </p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw5g-Z63niDiuYhYZ2ojF19-0B_U0D0O_7SZMNVZW50Kfx8gmd8AiJUPy2pqP1S3t5fKZU4zDCSgsgN-9B_Qw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>With happy running legs, I knocked out another 2 laps and entered Zone 6. Carrying 70% of my bodyweight, I meandered through the 100 meter maze. Once again, I was happy that I had misjudged the distance while practicing at my gym (carried the weights 125 meters) because it made this zone easier to manage.</p><p>Five hundred more meters of running and next up was Zone 7, my nemesis, the 25 calorie bike. As much as I love cycling, the hate this machine. I get nowhere ... slow. That big resistance fan only makes it harder the faster I try to go. And this is where the sh!t hit the fan. My first mental struggle as my body was feeling the effects of the last 7 runs and 6 zones.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxT5d68Gf25WDGyRYfQoAlyooGmgNKr1nYo-0DM-5lc3y4avPw1ytMiUGZACFMXXrZF1qYQ7bqk54wbBGnqEQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><p>The run following the bike was hard! I focused on just keeping a fast cadence and belly breathing. I entered Zone 8 and began picking up the 40 pound ball and hoisting it over the 4 1/2 foot wall. I felt like I was in slow motion. Would 20 reps ever get here? After what seemed like an eternity, they did. </p><p>Just 2 more runs and 2 more zones I told myself, as I struggled to maintain a "fast for me" pace. Fortunately there were many "carrots" out on the course for me to try and chase down. They may have not been in my age group nor my start wave, but I was treating each one as if I was in direct competition with them.</p><p>Zone 9 was the tank push/pull. This was also a resistance machine, meaning that the faster you tried to move it, the harder it got. I found my sweet spot and just kept the feet moving. I was so thankful for the volunteer who kept up with my laps; I was no longer mental math capable.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAzia3qFlbjjA9FPFor74xKtpbwqlDH494UpDS08Ua9ZPmWpDKcgJ6-SjMVi0OJR9TzQAnhLTlayzXFIQjirnx1DA7LUnS1JCcByvJfyfjepEvSPo-nOGCu0oJSzZFKkt1uqq9sxAG3A6QpPFrPwLd-UQPKlDMxngySnvMUNTF1UruMqHKEVQujoNm/s2400/Deka-Fit%20Tank%20$.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAzia3qFlbjjA9FPFor74xKtpbwqlDH494UpDS08Ua9ZPmWpDKcgJ6-SjMVi0OJR9TzQAnhLTlayzXFIQjirnx1DA7LUnS1JCcByvJfyfjepEvSPo-nOGCu0oJSzZFKkt1uqq9sxAG3A6QpPFrPwLd-UQPKlDMxngySnvMUNTF1UruMqHKEVQujoNm/w266-h400/Deka-Fit%20Tank%20$.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwPaTYwbUegszDi4DTDfX9_J06fmcRP9LhwSqzd5weBngrXsIzNs2vEjDnddBEEObnHZb-_zZJNanntfwZDTA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><p>The last run, I was on autopilot. Running on fumes, I managed to stumble into Zone1, the reverse lunge station, and picked up the RAM to start doing burpees, when the volunteer told me I was in the wrong zone. HaHa! I was so fried! I managed to find my way over to Zone 10 and picking up the 22 pound RAM, which felt like 44 pounds, started to execute 20 burpees. The fatigue monster was upon me ... so hard to push off the RAM and then get my hips under me so that I could lift this cylindrical weight above my head.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxs4DFAYf8T6IwSU1BKiORcVCfg52OUgfQURGgQy1je9xXRvWsqYXtRFvKjjtmaPbHGTnEXQ7HbWs5DUSskxQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><p>Fortunately the finish line was 5 meters away and I crossed it in 45:45, good enough for second AG and 15th O/A. I was only 30 seconds off of 1st place. My 5k running time (10 x 500 meters) was 26:08, fastest in my age group. I lost all my time in the zones. But with more practice and more strength, I can better my zone times and hopefully maintain that 5k pace.</p><p>Sign me up for the next one, I am hooked!</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGfq2ImjqJKUOjZXN0vr7S6QA8VAFFwSyNFRiQ7dsWQRd8Ny2bGM9xvm6aNq_r4LlC233Rsgb8LUTSuC8JdTmQNMgUHit8q5y3pEY7rQRZCqXENR9_WW36j_X4U8qFaf1Icy0XNZjCDyqY9vXG2Tvs4wpgEzlufZep_10O7Bx4pwwVSUNnEPAwicBs/s4032/Deka-Fit%20Medal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGfq2ImjqJKUOjZXN0vr7S6QA8VAFFwSyNFRiQ7dsWQRd8Ny2bGM9xvm6aNq_r4LlC233Rsgb8LUTSuC8JdTmQNMgUHit8q5y3pEY7rQRZCqXENR9_WW36j_X4U8qFaf1Icy0XNZjCDyqY9vXG2Tvs4wpgEzlufZep_10O7Bx4pwwVSUNnEPAwicBs/w300-h400/Deka-Fit%20Medal.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Zone 1: 1:08 (those 2 extra cost me) </p><p>Zone 2: 2:36 (gotta get stronger)</p><p>Zone 3: 0:57 (gotta improve technique)</p><p>Zone 4: 1:14 (good enough)</p><p>Zone 5: 2:38 (good time and a good place to rest some)</p><p>Zone 6: 0:59 (good enough)</p><p>Zone 7: 3:28 (pitiful!)</p><p>Zone 8: 1:32 (gotta get stronger)</p><p>Zone 9: 3:05 (I'll take it)</p><p>Zone 10: 1:56 (work on that muscular endurance, you maggot!)</p><p><br /></p>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3116971363082010280.post-79005357545840799382023-02-05T10:34:00.000-05:002023-02-05T10:34:03.532-05:00The Snake Creek Gap TT - 34 Mile<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5mzQkwiHuFOfSCpTU4Bc-FJHUmEZJevK1M83phmjI5roEA3SECVYqZmfHCxwQ8tEB0njgsLknKtNAptbtZNYWA1AOO4Q1RBsrm9pOXsV1eDnX1ZIgATBta1cscI_pkNyQBJgVjuZTZzxh2ccnz5N-zPjhmghS7rJ0OShvnQ4R3T3DlGNJmhFI8IJT/s2697/Snake%20Creek%20Gap%20TT%20number%20%20plate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2697" data-original-width="2651" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5mzQkwiHuFOfSCpTU4Bc-FJHUmEZJevK1M83phmjI5roEA3SECVYqZmfHCxwQ8tEB0njgsLknKtNAptbtZNYWA1AOO4Q1RBsrm9pOXsV1eDnX1ZIgATBta1cscI_pkNyQBJgVjuZTZzxh2ccnz5N-zPjhmghS7rJ0OShvnQ4R3T3DlGNJmhFI8IJT/w394-h400/Snake%20Creek%20Gap%20TT%20number%20%20plate.jpg" width="394" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>In its typical fashion, the February edition was brutally cold and sloppy. Heavy rains in the week leading up to race day made me change my mind from resting and attempting a fast time to continuing a build week and treating the race as another day of training. I knew I would be tired, but my goal was to stay warm and have a healthy mix of type 1 and 2 fun.</p><p>I wore ALL the layers for the 21 degree start, including my finger/hand saving SealSkinz electric gloves. Although bulky, they kept my hands happy for the first half; I switched to HandUp Colder gloves and chemical inserts for the second half. Although shifting/braking wasn't an issue with the SealSkinz, they were too bulky to pull nutrition out of my pockets, so I opted just to shotgun two gels at the start and rely on Skratch hydration for calories and fluids. </p><p>The 2 mile gravel road lead-in to the climb was full of huge mud-holes, most of which had no ride arounds. I managed to stay dry by tip-toeing around or riding slowly along the edge. It probably cost me a few minutes, but I was happily warm and dry. Fortunately the 2 added sections of the temporary Dry Creek bridge made for a dry crossing; that was probably the most swollen I have seen Dry Creek.</p><p>Climbing up John's Mountain double track and on to the single track, I could feel the past week's strength training ... ouch. Granny gear kept my legs' whining to a minimum. Fortunately most of this section was frozen. After crossing pocket road, the mud games began. Pretty much, after the short initial climb, the next 2 miles were under water. And I managed to submerge my left foot in the creek crossing. </p><p>The Horn Mountain climb felt a mile longer; what a grind! My derailleur froze, but luckily I had the three easiest gears to use. Lord, those 3 kickers to the tippy top hurt! I sailed down into the Snake Creek Gap parking lot and took my time swapping out gloves, sucking down 2 more gels, and ditching my CamelBak for a bottle.</p><p>The sun was out and the temps had risen into the 30's. I never knew the 30's could feel so warm. I ground my way up the Mill Creek climb and enjoyed the ridge riding. It was finally warm enough that I tempted fate and used my dropper for the first time on the Swamp Creek descent. Past memories of dropper issues in sub-freezing temperatures led me to stiff post the first 17. It worked and popped back up when I asked ... whew! </p><p>The creek crossings were super deep, but I was glad to have reconned them last month. Knowing the smoothest and shallowest lines kept me from submerging my feet, again. The climb up to the final section of single track was not as bad as I expected. </p><p>The final 8 miles of trail was its usual brutal self: my favorite part! Although slow going, I was in my happy place rock-crawling through the gardens. I believe the rocks (and roots) are growing! On the final tricky climb in the last half-mile or so, I was at the top when I ran out of gas and could not push over the final pedal stroke. I tried to unclip, couldn't, and ended up going down off the trail a few feet. Turtling around in the rocks, with my bike on top of me, it took me a few seconds to free my foot from the pedal.</p><p>Fortunately my bike never hit the ground; I took the full force of the impact. Both the bike and my body were ok; just a bruised ego. I was able to recover enough to clean the "gunsight pass" section and then cruise down to the finish.</p><p>I finished in 4:46:08. My second slowest time, but I did not mind. I achieved my goals today: finishing with a smile. And with fingers crossed that March will be its typical self: warm and fast!</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6lEAIgAE9fQjvrMYFVqCSpfwTUvSCD8XBPfedCYXQeUnX1r5Lzhcf1z-ER_i1YgNvJ5CFPyPwxXZp5OfWdO_gWdf9m9F8aCoGT3_iCRAyWF5FerJyrCeGASAtRJg2Oypvja9INaxN9myWEDzbeVa0S6in8o9PoiX5bQ8UFfHci-cVybVVpCk1u-C7/s2048/Snake%20Creek%20Gap%20February.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6lEAIgAE9fQjvrMYFVqCSpfwTUvSCD8XBPfedCYXQeUnX1r5Lzhcf1z-ER_i1YgNvJ5CFPyPwxXZp5OfWdO_gWdf9m9F8aCoGT3_iCRAyWF5FerJyrCeGASAtRJg2Oypvja9INaxN9myWEDzbeVa0S6in8o9PoiX5bQ8UFfHci-cVybVVpCk1u-C7/w400-h225/Snake%20Creek%20Gap%20February.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That smile is genuine! Is Ray checking for a motor?<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Carey Loweryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06181928167273488954noreply@blogger.com0