Aspirations Over Limitations

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.

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.

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.

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.

And so, I will be teaming up with one of our nation's best female adventure racer for the Warrior Sea To Sea Expedition Race 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!

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!

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. And I did not realize this until I started reading about the race details. 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. 

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.  

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?  

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.

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 ...😆

Dirty Duathlon

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. 

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.

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.  

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?!?  

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

Jayden and her team mate laid down a fast time and took first!  That kid has turned into a skilled little demon on wheels.  

Tellico Highlands ITT

North River Road

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.

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.

Only a pound heavier than my CheckPoint

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.

Basin Gap at top of Bald River Road

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

Farr Gap climb

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!

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.

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.

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!

Turkey Creek Road

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?  

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.  

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.

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!

Lindsey's nail

Our official photographer, always on the ready.

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.

12 Hours of the Hill of Truth Race Report

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.  

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.  

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.

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.  

East Edge

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.  

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.  

Roller Coaster

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.

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.  

My pit area

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.

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.  

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

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.

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.

Done, with 2+ hours to spare

Total time:  9:53

Mileage: Garmin said only 63, but it was actually closer to 70

Elevation gain: 9700 feet

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.

A big thanks goes out to Lisa Mueller and the rest of the Clinch River Trail Alliance for keeping this race alive ... and hard. 

Marji Gesick 100 Race Report

 

📷: Rob Meendering

Racing is hard, life is harder.  If it wasn't, it wouldn't be worth living.

Taking this straight from Todd Poquette's (MG race director) mouth: 

"Now that I've had some time to decompress. I witnessed a lot of #finisher stories come to a conclusion this year after several (or more) years of defeat. One guy, after getting his #finisher 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.

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.

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.

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.

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."

That's Marji Gesick.

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.

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 😉.

At least a 15 minute dissertation

Racing is a whole lot easier than crewing in the Randall household

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.

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!

📷: Rob Meendering. Mariah, me, Christina, Kristen, Jenny, and Jill

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.

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. 

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.

It doesn't get much better than this!

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.

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.

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!

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!

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

Mean, just mean!

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.

Spin to Win!

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).

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.

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.

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.'

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.

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!

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.  

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.

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!

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.

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).

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.  

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.

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.

Let the training for 2024 commence, once I feel human again.

Flatlick 50 Race Report

 

Sniper

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.

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.

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!

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.

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. 

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?

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. 

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.

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.  

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.  

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.  

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.  

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.

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.

Gravel Worlds Race Report

Sniper held up her end all day long

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). 

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.

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.

Nice of them to stir it up for us.

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!

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.

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!

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.

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. 😆😆😆 

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.

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.  

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.  

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.

Death by a thousand rollers

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.

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!

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.

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.

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!

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.

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!

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.  

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.

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.  

By the numbers:

                                    Normalized Power        Average Speed

First 52 miles                    147                                11.9

Middle 56 miles                134                                13.6

Final 42 miles                   132                                14.5

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.