Death March Revival ITT Ride Report

Over the years, there have been variations of the Death March Loop.  The first time I did it was probably 15 years ago, just about the time the Cohutta 100 came to be.  Then, it was just a group of friends riding for funsies in the Cohutta Wilderness.  I suppose I could say this was my first official gravel ride.  Then it was just 74 miles, started from Thunder Rock campground, and did not include the Mulberry Gap loop or the Big Frog section.  And I still died at least twice!

Since then the fine macabre folks at tennesseegravel.com have enhanced the route with more miles and a crap ton more of elevation.  Now back to its original start at Thunder Rock campground, they added the Mulberry Gap loop which allows you to climb up to Potato Patch TWICE and replaced a nice flat section with the Big Frog section.

The rules of the ITT are simple.  Start on your own, ride on your own, and finish on your own.  Although you may do it with a friend, there is no drafting allowed and you cannot share nutrition, gear, and any mechanical must be dealt with no outside assistance.  You must take a photo of your bike computer at the start and finish, showing the time of day and the mileage. 

So a few weeks ago, one of my favorite riding buddies, Jeff Cohen, messaged me and asked if I was up for some gravel.  To which I replied, how about the DMR?  Funny, he said, he had been thinking about the DMR as well.  

I had first met Jeff at the Cherohala Crossing a few years back.  Since then, we have been thrashing each other on many a gravel BDR.  A few times a year, we can get our busy schedules to mesh and grind out big days in the Appalachian mountains.  Always positive, he keeps me focused on not just the numbers, but on appreciating our surroundings, our capabilities, our families, and our now, our dogs, Honcho and Ellie.  Good stories come out as we are knocking out the climbs.

Smiling while we can.

We started at 7:30 am with a temperature of 66 degrees.  The high was supposed to hit the mid-80's but I was hoping we would be at the higher elevations mid-day. I was unsure of how the body would respond as I was just two weeks post-Marji and had an out-patient spinal nerve ablation two days prior.  The doctor said I could resume "normal activities" in 48 hours.  He might have extended that out a bit had he known what is "normal" for me 😆😆😆.

I outfitted "Freedom," my 2017 Niner Air 9 RDO with a small top tube bag and a Revelate Designs Mountain Feedbag.  I wanted all my nutrition easily accessible on the bike, pre-cutting the packaging on my waffles and shot blocks, to minimize stopped time. I carried about 3000 kcal, 750 of which was Skratch drink. I also carried 800 kcal in the form of gels.  The remainder was waffles and shot blocks.

Flat section after Tumbling Lead.

The climb up FS 45 was pleasant, the heart rate came up nicely, and the legs felt good.  I made it a point to stay around tempo on the climbs and spin easily on what few flats there were, as I knew the day was gonna be long and I wanted to feel good even at the end. The 3 bitches came and went, and that was a good thing; they did not feel as hard as in previous rides.  

This route is touted as being 100% gravel: it almost is, but there is one short stretch of maybe 1/2 mile at the most of pavement leaving Tennessee and heading into Georgia. 

The gravel over to Watson Gap was in great shape.  I stopped briefly for a nature break.

It was nice to finally descend down to Jack's River campground.  Mmmm ... the smell of burgers!  Now the real test began:  the slow grind up to Potato Patch.  But first, stopping at the piped spring about 0.7 miles up from the campground (mile 26.7).

Cold and tastes wonderful!

The next 25 miles was my low point.  The gravel on the ensuing climbs had been chewed up by vehicles so it was like riding on marbles.  Jeff was looking strong and slowly pulled ahead.  I was going as hard as my tempo heart rate would dictate, but I was in my granny gear alot (32 x 50) and not feeling the love.  I knew that "this too shall pass" would eventually end, but I also feared it might continue for the remainder of the ride. It was also getting hot out and the direct sunshine was not helping my mood.  

Jeff descending Potato Patch

The descent off of Potato Patch should have been fun, but knowing that I was going to have to climb right back up did not make it so. I stopped at Mulberry Gap (mile 41) and made it up to the bath house to relieve myself and refill my bottles.  Still being in a sour mood,  I did not have the energy to pedal uphill any further and see Kate and Andrew.  Bad Carey! I was in a dark place knowing that I had to go back up to Potato Patch (2000 foot climb); I wasn't in a very talkative mood.  I waited on Jeff, as he went up thinking he could purchase some cold water, but ended up getting some Biolyte instead (no ice cold water). 

Grimacing on the inside

We rode quietly now, both of us lost in our own thoughts (mostly negative for me) as we made our way back up to Potato Patch.  Jeff was still going strong and once again pulled away from me on the climb. At this point, only 47 miles in, I was wondering if I had enough juice left.  I began to contemplate cutting out the Big Frog section, but told myself that there were many miles before I needed to make that decision and my mood probably would change, as it always has in the past.  Looking back now, it is funny how I seem to have the same exact conversation with my inner demons every stinking big ride or race.  Sometimes it is a short one, but today it seemed to go on forever.  

Just one of many vistas.

Once I got to the top, I started feeling better.  Jeff had pulled over to break out his PayDay bar.  Seeing how strong he was, I told him I was going to motor on, thinking that he would catch me either on the never ending rollers on FS16. As I hit the game check station, I was almost completely out of the two 28 ounce bottles I had refilled at Mulberry Gap.  I was surprised Jeff had not caught me, but I figured he would pull up as I was refilling at the next piped spring on the initial Big Frog climb (mile 71).  The next 6 miles flew by and I had gotten my second wind; the caffeinated gel I had taken just before the FS17 descent probably helped.

Just one of many short "ups" on FS 16, which one would think would be all downhill.

I arrived at the piped spring and immediately stuck my head under the cold water and washed all the sweat and grime off my face.  Feeling refreshed, I refilled my bottles and stretched out my lower back.  After about 15 minutes, I started getting concerned.  What if he had a mechanical?  What if he had crashed and was lying unconscious somewhere?  No cell service so I couldn't just call.  So I started pedaling backwards on the course.  Fortunately, Jeff was only a hundred yards from the Big Frog turn off.  Come to find out later that he was at his lowest point of the day, having run out of water about an hour ago.  Had I not shown up when I did, the "bail-out demons" may have convinced him to skip the Big Frog section.  He was very apologetic, saying that "screwed the pooch" for me getting a good time.  I instantly replied that it was my choice and I would not have forgiven myself if something bad had happened to him. 

Getting my mojo back after a cold shower at mile 71.

Now that I knew he was safe, I told him I would see him at the finish.  And if worse came to worse, I could always drive back to him.  But I wouldn't have to, because Jeff is not a #quitter.  With that respite, I had renewed energy and that heavy leg feel that often happens when I stop for an extended period of time did not occur.  I felt like I was able to attack the last 22 miles.  Well, except for the hard climb up to Big Frog followed by the wicked descent.  The roadbed was RAW!  And by that I mean, chunky embedded gnar.  Holy crap!  This section just continues to deteriorate over time.  Definitely "enhanced."  The last thing I wanted was a flat or crash, so I rode cautiously up and over.

This is the smooth section of Big Frog

Exiting the Big Frog section, I took another caffeinated gel. I hard charged it to the end, knowing I only had to pedal 6 1/2 of the remaining 10 miles, the final 3 1/2 being all downhill, baby!  I hit multiple short climbs with gusto and even got a Lance Armstrong shout out by a local as I was climbing out of Big Creek.

I got back to Thunder Rock at 6:19 pm, 10 hours and 42 minutes after starting this adventure.  Jeff came rolling in a bit later, looking pretty ragged but in good spirits.  The first time, he told me, that he not only had a physically tough day, but a mental one as well.  

Jeff kept apologizing for keeping me waiting.  Although my official time might not have been as good as I wanted it, I had a great time riding this route with him.  And wouldn't change it for anything.  In the long run, I will forget my clock time, but I will never forget the day spent with a great friend riding in what I am blessed to call my "backyard."

Physically whooped but emotionally overjoyed.

Right at 10 hours moving time; very happy with that

Fried Clay 200K Race Report

Both the Red Clay Ramble and Fried Green Tomato 50 events had piqued my interest in the past.  The opportunity just never presented itself.  So when John Switow posted on FB that he wanted to have a run at the Fried Clay, I decided that this would be a great way to kick off my first BDR (Big Dumb Ride) of the year. This was an OYO (On Your Own) race, meaning you could ride the course anytime during March and upload your start/finish time as well as a GPX file for verification. I watched the weather like a hawk in the week leading up to it because I had heard of the muddy horror stories of both the clay roads and horse trails.  Fortunately while my town got a thorough soaking, the conditions in middle Georgia remained dry.

Love beginning rides before dawn because this is the reward.

John and I started our ride at 7:15 am, after a 40 minute drive from our hotel and fumbling around a bit in the dark, readying our steeds.  I had stuffed about 2500 calories of food in my feed bag and top tube bag:  waffles, shot blocks, gels, 3 peanut butter filled dates, and a king-size PayDay.  I had 2 bottles full of Skratch and 1 empty bottle I planned on filling with water when there was a larger stretch between water refills.  We were doing this "self-sufficient," in order to get the 30 minute time bonus, so essentially we could not resupply at any stores, but churches were fair game for water refills.  I also had purification tablets, just in case.

With a 40 degree start, I had chemical warmers in my gloves and shoes.  The only saving grace was that the sun was supposed to come out and warm things up around 10 am.  The first few miles were chilly, as my core slowly warmed up with the effort.  After that, only my fingers were cold, and I slowly began to enjoy the undulations in the roads.  I mentioned to John that it felt like a chainless day so far and hope that it would continue.

Glad I started out in my cold weather HandUp Gloves

About 10 miles in we stopped in Hillsboro and checked out a very old school house, built in 1915.  This was just the beginning of our ride back through time, as the buildings and homes along the route were dated early 1900's.  Even though I was racing for the fastest time, I still wanted to take time to enjoy the beauty and history.

Ben Hill Schoolhouse

The first 20 miles or so of rollers were gradual and long, easy on the legs.  The clay sections were asphalt fast. We made fast time on them and even our skinny gravel tires roared along them. 

Redneck Interstate

Heading into the Piedmont National Wildlife Refuge, the rollers got grunty and the gravel got a little thicker.  Not enough to be soul-sucking, but made the cornering on the descents a little more exciting.  This is also where we began to encounter some creek crossings.  Being that it was still chilly, I slowed down and picked my way slowly through them.  But still managed to get one of my feet wet and kill that chemical warmer.  This was also the first time I encountered gravel roads with real street names and stop signs.  Very weird!  I suppose this was what it was like in many of the southern states not too long ago, as I remember a lot of my county roads were gravel back when I was in grade school.

John pushing the Jakroo pocket volume to its limits

Some controlled burns had recently taken place in the refuge and the ashy odor was still very pungent.  A few places were still smoldering.  Contrasting this were areas where small rivers flowed over flat rocks that would be great opportunities for swimming, sunbathing, and picnicking.  

We passed by New Hope Church (mile 30) as we both had adequate amount of water to get us to Juliette (mile 50).  At mile 33.5 we turned onto the Wise Creek single track, part of the Ocmulgee Bike and Horse Trails. This was a 4 mile section of tame and dry trail with a few short climbs.  It was hard pack with just a few roots, very gravel bike friendly.  

Wise Creek

Pine Ridge

I finally began to feel the warming rays of the sun and my fingers again.  Around mile 39, the trail began to show some wear from all the posting the horses do.  However, there was only one 100 yard section that we had to get off and walk around, plus a few short hike a bikes up washed out trail.

We watched our GPS breadcrumbs closely during this single track section, as there were a lot of trails and easy to get off course.  We ended up getting a bonus mile midway through.  At mile 44, we hit some pavement for a brief respite before more gravel that took us to Juliette.

At mile 51, we stopped at East Juliette Baptist Church to refill our bottles.  While refueling and refilling, thoughts of  "I am not even halfway done" began to fill my mind. While my legs were still feeling fresh, I knew that the mental game was going to be starting soon.  

A couple more miles of pavement and then we were back to the steep rollers of the refuge.  After 10 miles of this, my legs were beginning to bark a little.  John still seemed really fresh and would pull away on the climbs.  Our conversation, or at least my end of it, began to dwindle, as the first feelings of fatigue started setting in.  

I had been drinking quite a bit, and soon found myself looking for a water refill.  At mile 72, I saw a church, and pulled in looking for a spigot.  Score!  Sunrise Church had some great history to it.  After I shed my leg and arm warmers, I read a placard while John was doing his thing.  Apparently, this was where a great Civil War battle was fought.  Union Major General George Stoneman and his 2100 men got their asses kicked by Confederate Brigadier General Alfred Iverson and his 1300 men.

This church was rebuilt after Sherman's troops burnt it to the ground in retaliation.

Getting a history lesson eased my mind on what ordeal remained for me.  Next up was the lollipop section which was a little flatter and gave me time to digest what I had consumed at the church.  John also decided to try to make friends with some chasing dogs rather than doing an interval.  While he was sweet talking, I soft-pedaled on.  I was now at the point that if I stopped for any length of time, my legs thought they were finished for the day.  

Hwy 11 and Otis Redding gravel road were a bit of recovery as they were slightly descending for 5 miles.  Bliss!  But miles 90-115 were my pain cave.  The only blessing was that I was back on the east side where the rollers were not as steep.  This course was advertised with only 7500-8000 feet of climbing, but my Garmin had registered 8000 feet back when I hit mile 100. John was a great, in that he kept the conversation light and positive.  And when I needed to sit in on his wheel for a bit, he was gracious.  I had only hoped that I could repay his draft, and I tried, but I believe he was the stronger one today.

John riding like a boss!

John kept telling me that you always have 25 more miles in you.  Well, I was for sure looking for mile 112 because then, although I would probably be a suffering buckaroo, at least I might be able to catch a whiff of the barn then. We stopped at Ellis Chapel (mile 111), found the well house, but could not find a spigot.  I think our brains were both so compromised from fatigue that we didn't even think to open the door and look inside for the spigot (which we were told later that's where it was ... doh!).  Fortunately I still had almost a full bottle left.

There are three things I remember in the last 25 miles.  One was a 2 mile stretch of double track that was fairly flat, but by this time, all I wanted was a paved finish.  Two was a good stretch of buttery smooth pavement that felt so uplifting even though it was up/down/up/down/up/down ...  I was so OVER all the energy sapping chatter of the small loose gravel.  And THREE, the final 4 mile gravel climb to the finish.  John got a chuckle, when I yelled at the top of my voice, half way up the climb, "This ... is ... awful!" It was, at the most, a 3 1/2 to 4% grade 😆😆😆.

11 hours 20 minutes later and I still like this guy!

My 135 mile (which is not 200k, but 217k), 9400 feet of gain day was done.  My knees felt like the Tin Man's.  So much pedaling!  But I could not have done it with a finer team mate than John.  Well, maybe David, Scott, Lisa, Twan, etc., etc., because all my Rescue Racing team mates have great souls and a love to push themselves to their limits.

Done and done!

So glad I met John at the 2019 Boondoggle event, the Forty 5 MTB race.  Where, despite the fact that he was on his gravel bike 😉, I thought to myself that I probably ought to get to know this person more.  He is one heckuva rider, team mate, and friend.  And I forgive him for that little gravel bike ride, aka peanut butter mud-fest, up near Caryville back in February. 

One of the most important things I have learned in life while doing these BDR's is that you cannot know true happiness until you have survived the "bowels of hell."  I think that is why I like doing them.  I know it is going to be fun in the beginning, hard as hell in the middle, and a "smell the barn" moment at the end, where I can push myself just a little bit more, no matter how tired I am.  A rollercoaster of emotion, I suppose, is necessary to make life worth living.

And while this hasn't been one of my harder rides, the older I get, the harder these easier rides are getting.  Fortunately, I have gained enough wisdom that the mental game is not as challenging as it was in my youth.  

Already planning my next BDR ... 😈