Kranza Gravel Adventure Race Report

Situated in the middle of Michigan's mitt is Roy Kranz' training grounds for the "previously called" Dirty Kanza.  Now if you don't know Roy, you should.  This soft spoken man has buckled the Marji Gesick 100 on a fat bike and is a 4-time Dirty Kanza fat bike winner. And when he isn't out riding or racing, he is putting some pretty shitty humans behind bars as a U.S. District Attorney.

Roy, fast approaching Todd Poquette's evil status

Since 2016, he has put on an informal race to help him prepare for the Dirty Kanza.  Initially it was two 85 mile laps.  Last year he created a 170 mile loop.  It was dubbed the Sandza, as it had miles and miles of deep sand.  This year he swore that he created a better loop with less deep sand.  But he had me at "PayDay Bar."  I am a sucker for that candy bar and when he made the announcement of having PayDay's at the start, I was in.  Surely a lawyer wouldn't lie when he said he the new course was better.

Seeing as how misery loves company, I invited two of my Rescue Racing team mates to join me in this central Michigan adventure, Dave Jolin and John Switow.  We got an AirBNB that was right on the course and 2 1/2 miles from the start. 

A 1915 school house; the owner was a student in 1954.

The forecast kept getting worse as race day approached.  It seemed to drop a degree or two every time I looked at it in the week leading up to it.  The only saving grace was that it rained on Thursday and Friday, which aided in compacting the sand.  

The start line

The start was at 7 am.  We drove over because it was 32 degrees with a "real feel" of 26.  I wanted to stay toasty warm in my truck until the very last minute.  I had a heavy wool base layer, arm/leg/chemical warmers, and cold weather HandUp gloves with latex gloves over those, and toe covers.  With about 13 minutes to go, John discovered that he left his 2700 calorie bottle of Perpetuem back at the house.  Doh!  Dave and I had enough calories we could have given him, but there was no pulling this pacifier out of John's mouth.  So he started off his day with a 5 mile TT!  I suppose in hindsight I should have let him take my truck (sorry, John) but we were kind of sandwiched in roadside and I was a wee bit upset.  And that was my heating blanket!

DJ and I at the start

7 am approached and no John in sight, we began the race by soft-pedaling up the road.  Damn!  It was cold! I was disappointed we could not get some wind chill respite by hanging in the pack. John finally caught up to us as we made our first turn onto a section of pavement.  Although my toes were still toasty, those latex gloves were doing me no good, as I slowly felt the life go out of my fingers.  Let me tell you, it is a little tricky shifting and braking with blocks of ice. 

Once John latched on, we found a rhythm and began to gain ground on some racers.  My hands were so cold they hurt, but at least that let me know they were going to survive.  The roads were in great shape.  I wouldn't call them gravel by any means; they were hard packed sand.  Some sections were so smooth that you could roll them as fast as pavement. Inevitably the stutter bumps would beat us back into submission.  They were hard to spot on these sand colored roads; therefore I was always careful to have a good grip on the hoods.

Around mile 15, I noticed the road we turned onto was incredibly wet.  I was confused for a few minutes but then saw the source of the water.  A tractor trailer was spraying the roads with what I would soon learn was calcium chloride in order to keep the dust down.  Seriously?  Hadn't enough rain dumped over the last 48 hours?  Damn you Roy!  Probably bribed them with PayDays. I did my best to avoid the slop.  And this slop could definitely do a number on my bike, if I rode through it.  I stayed on the shoulder of the road and avoided most of it.  We had to travel about 3 miles of this, but then we turned off that muddy mess.

We stopped for a nature break at mile 30.  My hands finally began to thaw out; they were burning like they were on fire.  Oh, man did it hurt.  A small price to pay, however, for being able to use them once again.  The sun was shining and the temps were rising.  I was pretty miserable for those first two hours.  When once body part is cold, it seems to affect my ability to push any power.  

Things I noticed while turning the pedals over and over again:  there was little coasting, not many churches, and the homes were pretty bland.  The barns seemed to have more character than the homes, what with the beautiful stonework and quilts. The winds were picking up some as the day wore on.  I was so glad that Dave took the lead for the greater part of the day.  He was a Road Warrior!  I tucked in behind either him or John and was able to cruise along without much effort.  For some reason, I was just not feeling it today; perhaps it was just the flatness and lack of a TT mentality.  I do know I seem to excel better in the mountains with long sustained climbs followed by a chance to recover on the descents.  Here there was no recovery.

We hit a rail-trail for 10 miles of bliss!  It felt good to have some pavement under the tires as the first 55 miles may have had 2 at the most.  

Ahhhh ... smooth as a baby's bottom!

When I surged ahead to get some photos of the guys, my legs immediately felt like lead.  Dang!  Not good.  I snapped a few pics and then went back to my caboose position.

Dave, the mighty engine that could and did!

I knew there was still a 100+ miles at this point.  All I could do was stay positive and hope the legs would change their tune. At mile 61, we strayed off course to hit the Ashton General Store.  Here we grabbed some water and snacks.  This pit stop took 16 minutes; a little longer than my liking, but I did get to enjoy some salty chips that Dave offered.

 

After our stop, we headed back to the rail trail and stayed on it for another 7 miles.  From there it back to sand, sand, sand.  But the good kind, that is, until the Mud Mile, at mile 72.  It started off innocent enough, just a lot of loose sand and dodging some mud holes.  But with the end in sight, the whole road bed turned into peanut butter mud.  This brought back several memories:  Dirt, Sweat, and Gears, and the Caryville gravel fiasco.  I managed to avoid most of it, but didn't stop and walk soon enough.  My wheels ended up with a layer thick enough to stop me in my tracks.  So I carried a 35 pound bike 50 yards through mud and then spent a good 5 minutes scraping the mud off so I could get rolling again.

Michigan mud.

At least the dismount offered me a chance to get to know Andrea Cherwinski.  She was prepping for Unbound, Coast to Coast, and Gravel Worlds.  When she asked what I was training for, I replied, "Life."  You see, at this time in my life, it is not so much about being on the pointy end of the racing (which I do still enjoy when I can make it happen), but creating memories with friends while still pushing my limits.  We leap frogged each other most of the day;  what I will remember about her is her smile and cheerful dispostion, despite what horrors this course was throwing at us. 

Finally, some climbing, as we approached the biggest climb of the day that would take us to the second highest point (1675 feet) in lower penisula.  The climb began at mile 75.  It was a doozy: 7.5 miles with 475 feet of gain 😱.  At this point, I would take anything that resembled going up for longer than 100 yards.  This is my jam! I could settle into a rhythm and the legs lit up, in a good way.  

Cresting the top.

We stopped at the Dighton Store at mile 85.  I took time to use their restroom and apply more Chamois Butt'r.  While the bits were happy, the sit bones were beginning to hurt a little.  As I was exiting the store, I happened to notice the meat case and the butcher preparing the thickest steaks ever!  This would easily rival any of the meat sections back home in a much larger grocery store.  Those steaks looked amazing! All this in what appeared to be a rinky dink C-store.

Don't judge a book by its cover

One of the racers' father had also set up a little roadside aid station here.  I happily refilled a bottle with blue Gatorade.  At this point, I was just wanting quick calories, a little Blue #1 wouldn't kill me. Hell, Dave had already started the downward nutrition spiral with Ruffles cheddar and sour cream chips earlier! Halfway through with an elapsed time of 6:44. That pit stop was 13 minutes long ... oof.  It appears that John and I need to watch a few NASCAR races together 😏.

We finally got rolling again.  The miles slowly ticked on by a little quicker as we had a nice tailwind for the next 20 miles.  And most of the roads were hard packed.  The sun was out, but the air still had a chill in it.  The high for the day was 60 degrees.  So the vest and leg/arm warmers stayed on all day.

At some point, I turned on autopilot because I don't remember much.  Well, other than the nuisance pains in my left knee and sit bones.  And the yearning for pavement.  This course had very little pavement, I am guessing 20 miles total, with half of that being the rail trail.  Even thought the sandy roads were in "good" condition, they could still be soul-sucking at times.  I would guess that 90% of the sandy roads were hard-packed with the remainder being soft and loose.

Between the Dighton Store stop (mile 85) and the Leota gas station stop (mile 133), my mind was on a rollercoaster of highs and lows.  I was adequately hydrated and fueled by my calculations, but at times the fatigue was like a weighted blanket.  Dave was a true workhorse; he knew that John and I were deep in the pain cave, and so stayed at a steady pace to where we could just focus on holding his wheel.  I knew he could have gone harder and faster, but he stayed the course and helped us through those dark moments.  And for that, thank you, Dave.

Rollin' rollin' rollin'

Once we stopped at the Leota gas station (14 minute pit stop), where I Butt'r-ed up the goods for the last time, got a final bottle of water, and enjoyed finishing off Dave's bag of industrial seed oil laden chips (gotta say this to keep me away from those during non BDR events cuz they taste so damn good!), I was ready to conquer the last 37 miles.  

My mantra was "its all downhill from here."  My spirits lifted and even though the knees and quads were achy, I was able to shake some life back into the legs.  Dave has given me a new nickname, "The Closer," as I always seem to come up with some energy for the last pull to the finish.  And so I did.  I caught back up to Andrea and we chatted for a little bit.  But John's earlier TT back to the house had finally caught up to him.  He was pedaling on fumes. So I bid good day to her and backed off the pace.

 

One of many "to the horizon" roads

John was a hurtin' buckaroo!  But, to his credit, this was the longest event he has ever done.  So big fist bump to Spaz!  If he hadn't forgotten your Perpetuem, Dave and he would probably have had to drag my arse to the finish.

Our AirBNB was right on the course.  With about 6 miles to go, we passed by it.  We also made sure that John did not stop!  Now, smelling the barn, all the aches and pains seemed to vanish.  I was so ready to finish this beast.  We crossed the finish line in 12:42.  

Love love love these guys!

Now that was a tough haul.  These flat races are harder for me than the climby ones; I just don't have the power to push the pedals ALL the time. And the lack of "eye candy", meaning beautiful scenery to look at and take your mind off just how dang hard the race is. No offense to your arse, Dave 😆  Despite a less than stellar day on the bike (for me), I have no regrets.  I am so grateful to have ridden in the company of my team mates and made some pretty killer and eventually laughable memories.

My poor knees felt like the Tin Man's; I needed a grease fitting for each of them!  And my left IT band was sore but just over my knee and only when I would touch it ... weird.  It's funny, but every race seems to bring out a new "pain."  A week later and it is still a little painful to get into a deep squat due to my knee joints being stiff.  The left IT pain is almost gone and it wasn't until 5 days after the event that I felt like getting back on the bike for an easy spin.

Roy, thanks for the exercise in introspection.  It was a good day for soul searching!