Pedaling for the Paws ... Again!

 

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.

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.

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. 

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.  

94 miles, 13,800 feet of gain

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.

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.

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.  

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.

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 McMinn Regional Humane Society.  If you donate directly, please tell me the dollar amount in the "Comments" section, so I can keep a running total.

Thank you and Happy Tails and Trails!

Carey

PMBAR Race Report

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.  

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!  

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?

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.  

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?

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.

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.

Club Gap CP passport puncher and SS extraordinaire, Chris Joice

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!

Goodies from the CP volunteer

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.

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.

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.

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.

I 💓 Smooshie!

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.  

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.

Mullinax

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!  

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.  

The 11th crossing of South Mills River

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!

The Forbidden Zone

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.

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!

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.

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.  

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.

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.

Strong women up there!

Pisgah "ride all the trails" completion buckle

Sandlin's Shred Race Report

 

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.

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.

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.

After Trevor's shotgun start (he shotgunned a beer), 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.  The past 3 weeks had been easy spinning.  So I let them go, along with 5 women.

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.  

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. 

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.  

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.

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.  

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.

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.

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!😄😄😄

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.  

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!

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!

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!

Tips by Trevor:  how to read a GPS track

Love my Rescue Racing team mates!

Moonshine to the winners!