Gravel Worlds

The calm before the storm

Zeke and I headed out to Gravel Worlds.  This trip was over a year in planning.  It had been too long since my best riding buddy and I went to a big event together.  For me, this one was 2022 New State New Race.  We arrived Thursday; after two travel days, my back was jacked from all the sitting.  I spent a good portion of the lead up time doing various forms of therapy for relief:  hot tub, Theragun, and lots of stretching.  Come race day it had quieted down to a level of pain that I could handle for 153 miles.

Highest percentage of women in any race I have done (40%)

This race had 4 distances:  300, 150, 75, 31 miles.  And even a 50k run.  A total of 2500+ racers were registered.  Weather could not have been any better:  65-83 degrees, partly cloudy, 40% humidity.  150 miles was the championship distance.  Winners in their respective age categories would get a World Championship jersey.  The courses were unmarked; GPS required.  I had my Garmin Edge 830 as well as Ride with GPS on my phone.  1 checkpoint that you would ride through twice at miles 60 and 125.  And various oases along the course run by sponsors as well as citizens: I do believe there were 5-6 of these.

I chose to go without a hydration pack, as there were plenty of places to get water.  I carried two 28 ounce bottles and about 2500 calories, along with several packs of SaltStick Fast Chews; these are da bomb, for me it was like sucking of delicious Certs.  I ran a 34T x 10-42 SRAM drive train and 40mm Maxxis Ramblers.  Never once was I under geared and I only engaged the 42T cog twice.

There was less than 4 miles of pavement and 4 dirt road sections of about 1 mile each.  A true gravel race!

80% of the gravel section were like this

Most roads had areas with no gravel.

It was still dark when the race started at 6 am.  Even with 700 racers hitting the gravel, the dust was minimal.  Still, I was extra cautious for these first few miles.  I stayed in the middle of the road and stayed a couple bike lengths back from those in front.  I took it easy and gave time for my legs to warm up.  My goal was to stay in the high aerobic heart rate range, and only going hard to bridge a gap or get up a hill.  Things were going smoothly, the sun was beginning to rise, and then suddenly the two riders ahead of me hit a patch of deep gravel.  I slowed down, but when I hit it, a rut slung my front tire abruptly to the left.  I tried to hold my line, but to no avail.  I collided with a female racer to my left.  Our handlebars interlocked.  Fortunately, we did not go down, but slowed to a stop.  It took a few seconds to free ourselves from each other.  We were both concerned how the other was.  I was ok, but she hurt her wrist in the process.  I felt so bad and immediately apologized.  We both got going again, but I could tell she was in pain.  Shaken up, I rode pretty slow for a few minutes.  Once I knew she was going to be able to manage, I slowly got back up to speed. I later found out that she finished, but it was a long painful day in the saddle for her.  Sorry, Yun, for ruining your day.

I continued to ruminate on that event for awhile.  It finally faded when I hooked up with a group of guys and rode their wheel for the next 20 miles.  They were fine to block the wind for me, and I was most grateful for a good average speed.  At mile 33, there was an oasis and we all stopped.  This oasis was hosted by Bobby Wintle and his Mid South crew.  I stopped just long enough to fill one bottle.  I ended up riding the next 27 miles alone, which was ok, as the winds were light, the breeze cool, and the legs were happy.  The scenery for the first 60 miles was mainly of corn and soybean fields, stretching as far as your eyes could see.

10 foot high and no doubt this wasn't non-GMO

At mile 60 I entered the first official checkpoint (for both the 75 and150).  There was two-way traffic as racers were coming back out to continue on course.  This would also be the second checkpoint for the 150 course, too.  There were bikes and bodies everywhere, no less than 60 racers swarming the aid station and portapotties. I was happy with my time as I was 4 hours and 60 miles in.  I stopped to pee, fill bottles, and grab a gel.  Everyone was heading back out the way the came in (or so I thought, there was very little difference in the number plates of the 75 and 150).  *insert foreshadowing* So I headed back out the way I came in, too.  However, I knew I was to turn right, but the volunteer said to go left.  Right then and there I should have questioned her.  But, like a good little lemming, I turned left.  Both my Garmin and RWGPS said I was going to the correct way.  So I rode for about 7 miles, not listening to what my gut was telling me.  As I continued straight on course, everyone else was turning left.  And that is when I stopped, took my phone out, and looked at RWGPS.  Phuck! Phuck! Phuck!  I realized my error.  I was on course but I had leapt ahead 60 miles. 😒  If I had done my homework better, or had questioned the volunteer, I would have realized that there was a grassy double track back door out of the checkpoint that I should have taken.

Gravel-stache

While I was backtracking, I had a good ole pity party for myself.  And for just an instant, as I saw Zeke (who was doing the 75) make that left hand turn, I thought of just riding with him back to the finish.  However, "tough AF Carey" immediately kicked in, berating "weak Carey" and telling her to get her sh!t together and finish this thing.  So I began backtracking, which was not easy as I had taken several 90 degree turns during these extra miles and with everything looking the same, I stopped several times to get my bearings. Finally, an hour later and with an additional 15 miles, I got back on course.

I was pretty much all by myself for the remaining 90 miles.  At least an hour behind those who rode at my speed, I was now with groups much slower.  So drafting was of no benefit, other than a handful of times when I encountered a headwind and found racers I could fall in behind and recover a minute or two.  Unfortunately, as I got on into the afternoon, the winds picked up to about 10-15mph, which for me, coming from no winds in Tennessee, was a bane.

I managed to keep a positive mind set.  I engaged those I passed, encouraging them on their journey.  I enjoyed the scenery change, which was now a lot of prairie, wooded lands and hay fields.  Even though I was out of contention, I still put forth a solid effort, hard charging the hills and keeping stopped times at the oases to a minimum.

One of 4 dirt roads. Thank God it was a gloriously dry day.

A little over 5 hours later I arrived back at the checkpoint.  Mile 125 of the course but 140 miles for me.  I took another pee break, filled my bottles for the final time, guzzled a gel, and headed out for the final 25 miles.  Even though I was a hurtin' buckaroo, I remembered my good friend John's words that you always have enough in the tank to finish the final 25.  I fought those headwinds to the finish.  Rolling under the banner, I fist bumped Jason, one of the directors.  With nothing in the tank but fumes, I gladly accepted an ice cold wet towel and a Coke.  168 miles, 12,000 feet of gain, and a time of 12:09.

 

Even though my race may not have gone as expected, the ride was fantastic.  I was so pleased at how the body performed.  And my mental game was strong!  Had it not been for Zeke asking me where I finished in my AG, I would have not realized that I got third!  Say what?!?  Just reinforces "never give up."  So of course, I had to do some math.  I lost 1 hour and 5 minutes with that navigational error.  And I was only 52 minutes behind the winner.  So that made me even happier.

I would say if you have never raced mid west gravel, this would be one to do.  A reasonable price, great schwag, big expo, awesome aid stations, and a great post-race atmosphere.  But you better do your homework, know how to use navigation, and trust your intuition.

I thought this was a one and done, but now I am thinking about redemption.