Both the Red Clay Ramble and Fried Green Tomato 50 events had piqued my interest in the past. The opportunity just never presented itself. So when John Switow posted on FB that he wanted to have a run at the Fried Clay, I decided that this would be a great way to kick off my first BDR (Big Dumb Ride) of the year. This was an OYO (On Your Own) race, meaning you could ride the course anytime during March and upload your start/finish time as well as a GPX file for verification. I watched the weather like a hawk in the week leading up to it because I had heard of the muddy horror stories of both the clay roads and horse trails. Fortunately while my town got a thorough soaking, the conditions in middle Georgia remained dry.
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| Love beginning rides before dawn because this is the reward. |
John and I started our ride at 7:15 am, after a 40 minute drive from our hotel and fumbling around a bit in the dark, readying our steeds. I had stuffed about 2500 calories of food in my feed bag and top tube bag: waffles, shot blocks, gels, 3 peanut butter filled dates, and a king-size PayDay. I had 2 bottles full of Skratch and 1 empty bottle I planned on filling with water when there was a larger stretch between water refills. We were doing this "self-sufficient," in order to get the 30 minute time bonus, so essentially we could not resupply at any stores, but churches were fair game for water refills. I also had purification tablets, just in case.
With a 40 degree start, I had chemical warmers in my gloves and shoes. The only saving grace was that the sun was supposed to come out and warm things up around 10 am. The first few miles were chilly, as my core slowly warmed up with the effort. After that, only my fingers were cold, and I slowly began to enjoy the undulations in the roads. I mentioned to John that it felt like a chainless day so far and hope that it would continue.
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| Glad I started out in my cold weather HandUp Gloves |
About 10 miles in we stopped in Hillsboro and checked out a very old school house, built in 1915. This was just the beginning of our ride back through time, as the buildings and homes along the route were dated early 1900's. Even though I was racing for the fastest time, I still wanted to take time to enjoy the beauty and history.
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| Ben Hill Schoolhouse |
The first 20 miles or so of rollers were gradual and long, easy on the legs. The clay sections were asphalt fast. We made fast time on them and even our skinny gravel tires roared along them.
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| Redneck Interstate |
Heading into the Piedmont National Wildlife Refuge, the rollers got grunty and the gravel got a little thicker. Not enough to be soul-sucking, but made the cornering on the descents a little more exciting. This is also where we began to encounter some creek crossings. Being that it was still chilly, I slowed down and picked my way slowly through them. But still managed to get one of my feet wet and kill that chemical warmer. This was also the first time I encountered gravel roads with real street names and stop signs. Very weird! I suppose this was what it was like in many of the southern states not too long ago, as I remember a lot of my county roads were gravel back when I was in grade school.
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| John pushing the Jakroo pocket volume to its limits |
Some controlled burns had recently taken place in the refuge and the ashy odor was still very pungent. A few places were still smoldering. Contrasting this were areas where small rivers flowed over flat rocks that would be great opportunities for swimming, sunbathing, and picnicking.
We passed by New Hope Church (mile 30) as we both had adequate amount of water to get us to Juliette (mile 50). At mile 33.5 we turned onto the Wise Creek single track, part of the Ocmulgee Bike and Horse Trails. This was a 4 mile section of tame and dry trail with a few short climbs. It was hard pack with just a few roots, very gravel bike friendly.
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| Wise Creek |
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| Pine Ridge |
I finally began to feel the warming rays of the sun and my fingers again. Around mile 39, the trail began to show some wear from all the posting the horses do. However, there was only one 100 yard section that we had to get off and walk around, plus a few short hike a bikes up washed out trail.
We watched our GPS breadcrumbs closely during this single track section, as there were a lot of trails and easy to get off course. We ended up getting a bonus mile midway through. At mile 44, we hit some pavement for a brief respite before more gravel that took us to Juliette.
At mile 51, we stopped at East Juliette Baptist Church to refill our bottles. While refueling and refilling, thoughts of "I am not even halfway done" began to fill my mind. While my legs were still feeling fresh, I knew that the mental game was going to be starting soon.
A couple more miles of pavement and then we were back to the steep rollers of the refuge. After 10 miles of this, my legs were beginning to bark a little. John still seemed really fresh and would pull away on the climbs. Our conversation, or at least my end of it, began to dwindle, as the first feelings of fatigue started setting in.
I had been drinking quite a bit, and soon found myself looking for a water refill. At mile 72, I saw a church, and pulled in looking for a spigot. Score! Sunrise Church had some great history to it. After I shed my leg and arm warmers, I read a placard while John was doing his thing. Apparently, this was where a great Civil War battle was fought. Union Major General George Stoneman and his 2100 men got their asses kicked by Confederate Brigadier General Alfred Iverson and his 1300 men.
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| This church was rebuilt after Sherman's troops burnt it to the ground in retaliation. |
Getting a history lesson eased my mind on what ordeal remained for me. Next up was the lollipop section which was a little flatter and gave me time to digest what I had consumed at the church. John also decided to try to make friends with some chasing dogs rather than doing an interval. While he was sweet talking, I soft-pedaled on. I was now at the point that if I stopped for any length of time, my legs thought they were finished for the day.
Hwy 11 and Otis Redding gravel road were a bit of recovery as they were slightly descending for 5 miles. Bliss! But miles 90-115 were my pain cave. The only blessing was that I was back on the east side where the rollers were not as steep. This course was advertised with only 7500-8000 feet of climbing, but my Garmin had registered 8000 feet back when I hit mile 100. John was a great, in that he kept the conversation light and positive. And when I needed to sit in on his wheel for a bit, he was gracious. I had only hoped that I could repay his draft, and I tried, but I believe he was the stronger one today.
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| John riding like a boss! |
John kept telling me that you always have 25 more miles in you. Well, I was for sure looking for mile 112 because then, although I would probably be a suffering buckaroo, at least I might be able to catch a whiff of the barn then. We stopped at Ellis Chapel (mile 111), found the well house, but could not find a spigot. I think our brains were both so compromised from fatigue that we didn't even think to open the door and look inside for the spigot (which we were told later that's where it was ... doh!). Fortunately I still had almost a full bottle left.
There are three things I remember in the last 25 miles. One was a 2 mile stretch of double track that was fairly flat, but by this time, all I wanted was a paved finish. Two was a good stretch of buttery smooth pavement that felt so uplifting even though it was up/down/up/down/up/down ... I was so OVER all the energy sapping chatter of the small loose gravel. And THREE, the final 4 mile gravel climb to the finish. John got a chuckle, when I yelled at the top of my voice, half way up the climb, "This ... is ... awful!" It was, at the most, a 3 1/2 to 4% grade 😆😆😆.
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| 11 hours 20 minutes later and I still like this guy! |
My 135 mile (which is not 200k, but 217k), 9400 feet of gain day was done. My knees felt like the Tin Man's. So much pedaling! But I could not have done it with a finer team mate than John. Well, maybe David, Scott, Lisa, Twan, etc., etc., because all my Rescue Racing team mates have great souls and a love to push themselves to their limits.
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| Done and done! |
So glad I met John at the 2019 Boondoggle event, the Forty 5 MTB race. Where, despite the fact that he was on his gravel bike 😉, I thought to myself that I probably ought to get to know this person more. He is one heckuva rider, team mate, and friend. And I forgive him for that little gravel bike ride, aka peanut butter mud-fest, up near Caryville back in February.
One of the most important things I have learned in life while doing these BDR's is that you cannot know true happiness until you have survived the "bowels of hell." I think that is why I like doing them. I know it is going to be fun in the beginning, hard as hell in the middle, and a "smell the barn" moment at the end, where I can push myself just a little bit more, no matter how tired I am. A rollercoaster of emotion, I suppose, is necessary to make life worth living.
And while this hasn't been one of my harder rides, the older I get, the harder these easier rides are getting. Fortunately, I have gained enough wisdom that the mental game is not as challenging as it was in my youth.
Already planning my next BDR ... 😈
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