Death March Revival Yo-Yo

The Death March Revival is a 95 mile gravel route deep in the heart of the Cohutta mountains of Tennessee and Georgia. TennesseeGravel.com puts on an ITT series, of which this is one of 3 routes. I have done some sort of version of this route every year for the past 20, as this is in my "backyard," stunningly beautiful, and hard AF (14,000+ feet of elevation gain and 99.5% gravel/dirt).

Having accomplished both a road and virtual Everesting event, I had left to do a gravel version and a single track version.  It was also time for me to pay it forward again by raising money for my local animal shelter.  So, what better way to combine the two than doing a yo-yo version of the DMR: riding it clockwise the first lap and counter clockwise the second lap.  BDR's (Big Dumb Rides), as I affectionately call these adventures, are always better with friends.  Earlier in the year I baited the hook, and landed David Jolin, one of my Rescue Racing team mates, and a solid friend.

I chose Ripley, my Trek SuperCaliber, with Ikon 2.2's, for this ride. The slight weight penalty was well worth the added comfort of full suspension.  I was able to get away without having to use a hydration pack and that was a plus as well. I was a little concerned about the 4 inches of rain we had in the 4 days leading up to today, but it ended up making the course "hero." Sure, there were the usual mud holes to skirt around, but the gravel and dirt was hard packed, no stutter bumps, and no dust ... yea!

The Beginning

We started at 7:30 am.  Temps would be pleasant today (60-78 degrees) and with the cloud cover and tree canopy, we wouldn't get hot.  As we began the climb up FS 45, I reminded Dave to settle in at 24 hours pace.  Sometimes he likes to get a little too frisky early on.  I was riding on feel alone: no power meter, no heart rate strap, and my Garmin screen was blank (battery save mode).  I had no goals other than to take it all in (scenery, wildlife, sounds, and all the feels) and finish.

Climbing up to Dally Gap

The first descent down FS 221 heading towards Tumbling Creek was blown out, with massive exposure of bedrock. It used to be that the only rough section were the "three bitches," a series of 3 punchy rocky climbs, but now every up and down along this section was a bitch!  I cautiously made my way through the chunky sections, very mindful of placing wisdom above the "need for speed." Once the road paralleled the creek, the surface became smooth and remained that way for most of the day.  Bluebird skies with puffy clouds and the birds singing their songs had me smiling.

At about 20 miles in, we stopped at Watson Gap for a quick pee break.  As I went behind the Cohutta Wildlife Management sign and dropped trou, I began to squat when all of a sudden I realized my bits were right over a yellow jackets' nest.  Oh, shit! I immediately began running away down the gravel road, bibs down around my ankles, with my ass exposed for the world to see!  Fortunately, I was only stung twice on my legs.  It coulda been so much worse!  At least Dave got some comic relief (one of the things I am good at on these adventures).

Moments before the full moon 😂

The miles over to the Potato Patch piped spring were uneventful.  I kept the pace easy and occasionally pedaled out of the saddle just to test the legs.  They didn't bark, so I was good. We filled up at the spring and then placed a bunch of deadwood on the road adjacent to it, so that when we were on the second lap, it would be easy to find if we were in the dark, or our mind was numb.

We arrived at Mulberry Gap (mile 41) at 12:30 pm.  That was about 20 minutes slower than my last DMR's pace, which was where I wanted to be.  I did the usual: selfie in front of the sign, pee, purchase a Dr. Pepper and a candy bar, talk to Kate, and refill bottles. BTW, if you are a cyclist, hiker, or just want to unplug from the matrix, you gotta check them out.  And the food is 5-star!

On the 6 mile climb back up Potato Patch, even though I was feeling great, I had to shake the thought of having to do this again ... aye yai yai. Descending on West Cowpen (FS 17), I was coming around a sharp corner, when there appeared a bear (young, probably last year's cub) hanging by one paw on a small dead tree, like a monkey.  I think I saw his eyes swell with fear, as the tree broke, and he fell to the ground 10 feet below.  This whole scene played out in about 2 seconds ... it was spectacular and hilarious! It is those times when I wish I had a GoPro.

A quick stop at the game check station for a pee while Dave refilled his bottles, and yes, I scouted my pee spot very carefully this time, and then off to the Big Frog section.  I stopped at the piped spring at the beginning of Big Frog to refill mine; love the mountain water!  This 10 mile section was also super blown out.  I can remember when I used to ride this 10-15 years ago and it was smooth! I cannot imagine trying this now on a gravel bike.  Even on my full sus bike, I was wishing for wider tires and more squish.

The miles were winding down on this first lap.  Normally when I do the DMR, I am beginning to smell the barn with 15 to go, and I tend to bury myself to finish it.  But today, even though I was still feeling great, I had to keep it easy and in the moment.  I tried not to think about the second lap at all.  But it definitely creeped in my mind a time or two.

We finished up at 7:15 pm. So that was 11 hours and 15 minutes; right on a pace I had wanted to set (40 minutes slower than my last DMR).  And I did, all without any help from my Garmin.  See, living in the moment, going by feels, without technology, can be good.

Knowing that a shower would help to "reset" me, I grabbed my bowl of rice and eggs I had prepared the night before, and headed over to the campground bathroom. Some people drink in the shower; I eat 😆. I let the hot water pound out the knife between my shoulder blades while I rinsed off the day's build up of sweat and dirt.  A fresh kit and 600 calories of real food felt so good.  Then I went to task of readying my bike for the night lap:  Lupine headlamp, Outbound Lighting bar lamp, and a spare Lupine in my jersey pocket. I decided to wear my vest for additional pockets and warmth.  I also stashed a wool base layer and arm warmers on my top tube.  Even though the temps were only supposed to get into the low 60's/upper 50's, I know just how cold I can get when I am fatigued. I refilled my Revelate Designs feedbag with more food.  

At 8:00 pm I was ready to roll, but Dave wasn't. For me, it is all about staying in motion, keeping that engine idling.  If I sit/lay down and shut it off, it is so difficult to get it started again. We managed to get going at 8:15. I could tell that Dave was thinking too hard about what we were about to do.  And that if I let him linger any longer, his lizard brain might convince him to call it quits. So I told him to let's just focus on getting to Mulberry Gap and reassess then. But what I was really thinking was that if I can get him to commit to Mulberry, then at that point he has to finish it, because there are no bail outs at that point in the course.

Don't think, just do. Getting ready for lap #2.

I could feel the legs on the FS 45 climb up, but I expected it, accepted it, and quickly put it out of my mind. I looked forward to nightfall, for it is exciting to me.  It gives a fresh perspective on everything and the sense of space, time, and speed becomes distorted. The second lap was in the opposite direction, which also helped to keep things "fresh."  On the plus side, the previously arduous climbs became fun descents.  And as night fell on the rollers of FS 221, the climbey bits felt less climbey.  I suspect it has something to do with not being able to see the road grade or the horizon.

It was good to get the chunky Big Frog section out of the way during the beginning of this lap, while I was still somewhat fresh. Even with my lights on high, it was sketchy AF! Two miles in, we came upon a truck, going the opposite way, loaded down with wife and kids.  He looked a little worried, as he was lost. And his truck was not overland worthy.  Fortunately, the worst of Big Frog was behind him.  I gave him directions on how to get back to civilization, for which he was most thankful.

top of Big Frog at 10:30 pm

Descending off the backside of Big Frog, my only navigational error of the ride was thinking I had gone past the piped spring and back tracked a 1/4 mile before pulling out my TrailForks app and realizing I was one switchback off. Finding the piped spring, I filled one bottle with water; no Skratch added this time as I was about to be "sweeted out."

Although I had done well with my nutrition on the first lap (3000 calories and 6 bottles of fluids), I was having difficulty eating once the sun set.  For me, it is a combination of palate fatigue, getting tired of eating, and my GI tract not used to working beyond 6 pm. I knew I had to take in at least 150-200 calories per hour.  The waffle I had at the top of Big Frog, a bottle of Skratch, and now the shot blocks I was forcing myself to swallow at the game check station were the only calories I had taken in the past 4 hours.  I wanted to just refill with water again, but added about half the usual amount of Skratch.  Gotta get those calories in somehow, someway.

Turning onto West Cowpen (FS 17), I was not thrilled to be starting this climb.  It was gonna be a doozy!  10 miles and 3000 feet.  The first half rolled quite a bit, but still, the climbs were steep.  And then it got real:  6 miles straight up to the heavens! It was here that the wheels began to fall off the bus. My easiest gear was a 32 x 52 and I was needing more.  At this point in the ride, the fatigue hit hard, and my sit bones hurt.  So I got off and walked quite a bit; it wasn't that much slower.  But it did help the muscles, the taint, and the mind.  And I got to watch the bats dive down at the bugs attracted to my lights, which was really cool!

Once at the top, I put my arm warmers on.  The remaining gravel to Mulberry Gap was downhill and it was getting chilly at elevation. The descent down Potato Patch was mentally draining.  Lights were working great, but at the speed I wanted to go, I had to keep my eyes peeled for obstacles, like big embedded rocks waiting to take my front wheel out from under me.  And the palms of my hands were getting sore.

We got to Mulberry Gap at 3:30 am.  I kept on task and stopped at the bathroom first.  Then I made my way to the barn, as Kate had mentioned earlier about an option for hot tea or coffee.  Something warm with caffeine would be the bomb!  When I got there, Dave was already comfortably slumped in a chair ... with cushions.  In my mind, this could be disastrous.  I wanted to kick the chair out from under him, but figured I would give him 30 minutes and hope for the best.  

Just a few minutes ... what he said 😏

I tended to myself.  Coffee was of the instant kind, so I opted for black tea.  A warm mug of this, with a little honey, did me some good.  I got my bottles filled with water, cleaned the garbage out of my pockets, and then PayDay-boarded my pie hole until I got the whole thing down the hatch. It was now 4 am.  I told Dave I was ready to head out. He looked shell-shocked.  He said, "Are you leaving?" I told him not without you. He said he needed another hour.  So I drank another cup of tea and tried to power nap.  But I began to shiver uncontrollably.  It wasn't that cold, it was just that my body was tired and my core was not generating heat. 

I needed/wanted to get back at it, but a heavy shower hit around 4:30 am.  As the rain was ending around 4:50 am, I woke Dave up.  He then said he was just gonna sleep some more.  I told him I had to go, as I was freezing.  He had the course loaded, so I was 90% confident he could find his way to the finish, as long as he did not have a mechanical.  But he also had Zeke's phone number, so an "Uber" was indeed possible, if he couldn't get hold of me (cell service is unreliable at the start/finish).

Once I got back on the bike, I immediately warmed up and had to shed the layers I had put on at Mulberry Gap.  That extra hour also allowed some digestion of my earlier force-feeding which made the 6 mile climb back up Potato Patch not as hard as I expected. 

Sunrise at Bear Creek overlook

I always enjoy riding into daylight.  The sun rising got my circadian rhythm back on track, and my energy levels rose, despite my inadequate caloric consumption. 35 miles to go ... I got this!  I began visualizing the remaining miles in sections.  Just focus on getting to the piped spring at Jack's River.  And so I did, not letting the 3 or 4 grunty kickers knock me off my mental game.  I saw the stack of deadwood we had set out earlier, so I stopped and refilled my bottles here.  That water was cold and tasty.  

I live for these sunrises!

The next section was getting to Watson Gap.  The climb out of Jack's River campground was pleasant, but I forgot just how long it was (2.5 miles).  The hip bone pain had been replaced by achy patellar tendons.  Now my knees were feeling like the Tin Man's.  I got some relief when I could get out of the saddle, but then after about 15-20 pedal strokes, my quads were blowing up. 

At Watson Gap, I now had 20 miles to go.  Just get to Tumbling Creek campground, a 10 mile pull, and mostly downhill.  But there were 2 short climbs that tried to break me.  Nope, not gonna happen.  The body may be falling to pieces, but the mind was strong and unwavering.  I was now riding on sheer will power, as I had not been able to eat anything since I washed a peanut butter date down with spring water 15 miles ago.

The biting flies and gnats found me on the final 1 mile climb halfway through this 10 mile stretch.  I could only laugh at my predicament: 171 miles into this adventure trying to eek out an extra 25 watts to get above fly speed, wildly waving one hand to keep the little bastards from biting me and maintaining balance on no sleep for 28 hours. Cresting that last climb, I finally gapped them!

Riding past the campground, I had 10 miles and the final 2 climbs.  Now, I was smelling the barn.  This was the same chunky blown out section we had descended over 24 hours ago.  I walked a couple short steep sections for my fear of stalling out on dead legs and falling over.  Yep, I was that tired.

Rhodos were poppin'

Then I saw the FS 45 intersection.  I was so happy I woulda cried had I had enough water to form tears.  Those next 2 1/2 miles descending down to the finish were ... the ... best ... ever. 

I had just accomplished something I had trepidations 48 hours ago of completing. And I completed an Everest on gravel.  Well, maybe 263 feet short of the "official" mark of 29,029, but close enough to check that one off my bucket list. The one goal I did miss was the 24 hour completion mark.  While moving time was under 24, total time was just over 27. But I am ok with that.

Feeling like a cicada shell

Not that this is necessarily the hardest thing I have ever done, but relative to my age, yes.  Even though in my mind I still feel young, my body has told me otherwise these past few years.  It takes a lot more relative effort these days to execute  BDR's.  But I am very grateful I still can.  And that I can find like-minded individuals to play the game.  

I showered and tended to my gear. I still did not feel like eating and besides, I had forgotten to bring any post-ride food.  I pulled out my yoga mat and anxiously awaited Dave's arrival.  He finished up a couple hours after me, having left Mulberry Gap around 6:30 am.

He, too, was shelled, but had enough left to crack a smile.  For both of us, this has been our longest effort, time-wise, in one go.  And I do believe that we may be the first to have done a DMR double. 

I want to thank everyone who donated to my local animal shelter and held me accountable to finish this beast.  Together we raised $3475. One of my mantras during the difficult sections was "One paw-stroke at a time."  You and the critters helped me to keep my mental game strong.

Now, off to eat whatever I want, guilt-free.  I think I have some calories to make up for.

Death March Revival ITT

 

Bear Creek Overlook

This, by far, is my favorite route in my neck of the woods.  I have been doing some version of this every year since 2006 when Zeke Lilly drug my ass around a shorter 65 mile loop while training for the Cohutta 100.  I love it for its beauty:  the vistas, the multitudes of roadside creeks and rivers, and the wildlife.  I love it for its brutality:  the relentless climbs, the blistering descents, and only 1% paved.  So when Randy Kerr messaged me last week about doing it, I responded with an emphatic "Hell, yeah!" after seeing that the weather was gonna be as close to perfect as November can get.

I started at 6:45 am, in the dark.  It was cold at Thunder Rock campground, around 44 degrees, but I wanted some daylight insurance on the back end, in case things went awry.  I was figuring on a 10+ hour day, but hoping I could pull out a sub-10.  Randy opted to start at daylight.  He had plenty of daylight to single speed his way around the course, as his previous time was 8:34.

I opted to ride my 2017 Niner Air 9 RDO, with 50mm Maxxis Ramblers mated to Industry 9 UltraLite aluminum wheels, and a SRAM 1x (32 x 10-50). A SpeedSleev saddle bag carried a two tubes and tools, a Oveja Negra top tube bag and a Revelate Designs feed bag carried my nutrition, and a SpeedSleev Diego handle bar bag was there to pack my extra layers as I would be shedding them as the day warmed up.

 My light punched a small hole in the darkness as I climbed up FS 45.  The skies were clear and the stars visible, something these days that comes hard to find.  The first descent was sketchy because of the darkness, the leaf cover, and the blown out road.  I cautiously made my way down, eager to see the sun rise.

The Three Bitches are a series of relatively short, but punchy climbs around mile 5.  They are always wet and chunky.  As maddening as it is to find "the line," at least today, in the dark, they seemed to pass quickly.  Just before the descent to Tumbling Lead, the sun rose over Boyd Gap.

Just doesn't do it justice

It was still semi-dark as I descended down to Tumbling Creek.  Once again, conditions were less than ideal, so I kept it well under the speed limit.  It was also really cold in this spot; another good reason to not throw caution to the wind.

Tumbling Creek

With most of the leaves fallen, the views along this stretch of road were incredible.  No dogs gave chase at the usual spot along the short stretch of paved road, and I made my way into Georgia and began the climb up to Dally and Watson Gap.

This stretch of gravel was more lumpy hard packed dirt, with sections that were soft from the earlier week's rains.  It had a light washboard feel, but at least I wasn't fighting loose gravel.  It rolled nicely along the ridgeline before dropping down to Watson Gap.  This section was loose gravel, but at least not deep.

Watson Gap

I stopped at Watson Gap to shed a layer, take a pee break, and eat one of my rice cakes.  Temps were now perfect and my fingers and toes had thawed out.  Although I was behind schedule, I was feeling good, and if course conditions remained favorable, I knew I could increase the pace.  I climbed some more and then had a blistering descent down to Jack's River campground.  I briefly refilled my bottle at the piped spring and then continued on the climb up to Potato Patch.  I really enjoy climbing up from this side, as there are breaks where you get to roll along a contour line or enjoy a small descent.  And the gravel was "hero."  

Mountaintown Overlook

The descent from Potato Patch was also in great shape.  It took you 5 1/2 miles and 2000 feet down to Mulberry Gap.  It is not an easy descent, as I spent most of it just hovering above the saddle as to avoid any ass-smacking that might come from a sudden dip or exposed rock.  My legs definitely did NOT like that short climb up to Mulberry Gap.

Refilling my bottles at the barn

I stopped in the office briefly to say hi to Kate, and then made my way to the restroom after refilling my bottles.  

If you haven't been here, you are truly missing out on a great experience.

Here I was 41 miles and 5 hours into my day.  And a daunting climb back up to Potato Patch.  Although my stopped time here was short, 12 minutes, my legs thought they were done for the day and shut down.  It was also here that Randy caught me and passed me.  He had started at 7:55 am; he was on fire!

I managed to keep pace with him for all of 100 yards.  And then my legs said, "Hell, no, you are asking for too many watts!"  And suffice it to say that my low moment of the day was the next 50 minutes struggling back up to Potato Patch.  I knew eventually I would feel good again, so I just stayed present and enjoyed the ride, no matter how slow.

Bear Creek Overlook

Even though there were still a couple miles left of climbing after turning at the top of Potato Patch, I was beginning to feel better and turn the pedals over quicker and with more force.  The gravel over to Lake Conasauga was hard packed and smooth. I put a couple hundred calories in the belly knowing I would have a big descent soon, allowing for adequate digestion and usage.

FS 17 (West Cowpen) was in as good a shape as it could be.  The rains had settled the dust and the gravel some, but it was thick in leaf cover, which made it spicey!  Not one of the fastest times down it, but I arrived safely at the bottom.

The flats over to Big Frog went by quickly.  All that food I had ingested at the top of the mountain was now providing the energy I needed.  Just 22 miles left.  Turning right onto Big Frog, I climbed up to the piped spring and refilled one bottle and ate my last rice cake for the final push.

Rice cakes: life savers

Big Frog, over the past 15 years, has gone from smooth and gravel bike enjoyably rideable, to blown out I need a full squish trail bike to get through this on a fun note.  Most of it is riding over chunks of bed rock and feeling your way through deep leaves and praying one of a thousand loose baby heads doesn't take your front wheel out from under you.

So focused on staying upright I forgot how thrashed my legs were.  Up and over the top, I rode the brakes most of the way down the descent.  I would rather lose time going slow as opposed to fixing a puncture or making a sling out of an inner tube.  

Deceivingly enhanced

The top of Big Frog

Back out on FS 221 I felt renewed.  The five miles of rolling hard packed dirt made it feel like I was flying down to Big Creek.  I had already figured that a sub-10 was not going to happen, but there was still a chance for a PR.  That had me fired up on the steep ass climb out of Big Creek.  However, in the ensuing final 4 miles over to FS 45, I do believe those short punchy climbs doubled in number since the last time I rode here.  At least that is how it felt to the mind and legs ... the longest 4 miles EVER! F bombs battered this section, as I could see the minutes closing down to a PR.

Finally I began the three mile descent down to the finish.  With no thought to puncturing or breaking a bone, I let Freedom scream down the mountain.  I bettered 2021's time by 8 minutes.

True gain was closer to 14,000

I rolled in to the campground and lay on the ground for a few minutes, allowing the body to finally relax.  Randy had finished up his day a while ago, and also rode a PR (8:29 on a single speed!).  He was busy attending to his body with some yoga.  I soon did the same while we talked about our day.  Thanks Randy for inviting me out to play.  Yet another brutally wonderful experience in the Cohuttas.

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

Death March Revival

 I did the first edition of this race in 2017, back when mass starts were the norm.  It then went on a 2 year hiatus and ended up turning into an ITT this year (damn Covid).  I chose Black Friday to do the route. Because why else would I want to get up at 3 am? 

Not being on any structured training for the past 2 months, I chose to ride comfortably hard.  It is kind of hard for me to get into "race" mode when I am the only one that shows up at the start line at 5:40 am.  I kept my stops and picture taking to a minimum as I set a goal of a sub-9 hour attempt. I started super early to have enough of a daylight buffer in case something went wrong.  

I chose to ride "Ripley," my new Trek SuperCaliber with a SRAM AXS drivetrain and Specialized Renegade 1.95's.  She weighed in at 23 pounds (was outfitted with the AXS dropper post as well). The starting temperature was 36 degrees.  I was warm heading up Potato Patch.  The benefit to climbing this in the dark is that it doesn't feel near as long or steep as it truly is.  The sun just began to rise as I hit the intersection and turned left.  Have I mentioned how much I enjoy sunrise rides? It is this time of day when I am doing the thing I love that I am in awe of the beauty of the mountains and grateful I am able to do these Big Dumb Rides.

Fortunately I had ridden the climbs below my "sweat threshold," so I did not get cold descending FS17.  A bear was crossing the gravel as I rounded a corner, about halfway down.  I was not startled, but got him moving a little quicker by hootin' and hollerin' at him.  I was pleasantly surprised at how good the road conditions were and the bike just soaked up the chatter.  The only limiter on my speed was that it was still somewhat dark, as the sun had not risen over the mountain yet.

Once past the game check station, my hands and feet started freezing.  It was a little after 8 am, and I was still in the shade.  Brrrr!  I was looking forward to the Big Frog climb.  I leap-frogged with a pick up truck along this flattish stretch.  I momentarily was a little concerned for my safety, but figured he was more interested in deer than a dirty old woman.

I stopped at the piped spring to refill my bottles.  That slow dripping of water into my bottle got my bladder all excited, damn it!  Try unzipping a windbreaker with frozen fingers.  But I managed to get it done and not pee in my bibs.

The 6 mile undulating climb up to the high point of Big Frog was pretty tame.  I was feeling good, now that I had warmed back up, and the legs were singing "Happy" by Pharrell Williams.  Descending down off of Big Frog brought back memories of me flatting here in 2017, so I played cautiously.  It was nice to be able to see the roadbed, as two weeks ago it was covered in leaves.

Popping out on FS 221, I was pleasantly surprised by the firm smooth surface.  I had heard that the Forest Service was grading this section between Big Frog and the Whitewater Center.  I imagined a lot of loose chunked up dirt and rock, but obviously someone knew what the hell they were doing.  This made the going fast!  And the legs were still there, so it felt like I made short work of the next 10 miles.  

I crossed paths with Zeke as he was heading towards Big Frog.  He would be the only cyclist I would see all day.

Beyond the intersection of FS 45 and FS 221, the road got dicey, what with washouts and some mud.  The three bitches were their typical nasty self, but I motored right up them.  I had been fueling with Scratch and gels mostly and had one Honey Stinger GF waffle.  My energy was good, back was happy, and legs were churning out the watts. On my Garmin, I could see my overall average speed.  I have always been one to do math while riding and/or racing, so I was trying to keep my speed at/above 9.8 mph, thinking that if I could maintain this to Potato Patch, I could gain an additional 0.2 mph on the final descent and hit a sub-9.

About a half mile past the Tumbling Creek campground, Mr. Brown (UPS) past me going the opposite way.  WTF!  Where did he think he was heading?  Either he was following his whacked out GPS or he had a body to dump.  That kept my mind occupied until I hit the climb up to Dally Gap.  Gentle, with some rollers, I got this.  The shit hit the fan on the last pitch up to Dally.  And then it just kept going up hard to Watson Gap.  I had forgotten just how difficult this section was.  Now my legs began to say some bad words.

Finally I got a bit of reprieve on the rollers over to Watson Gap.  But then 2 miles of bonus SUCK before the descent down to Jack's River campground.  At one point, as I rounded a corner thinking I was finally there,  at the top ... but NOT, I yelled out loud, "Come the fuck on!"  And then I laughed at myself, knowing that I always have this low moment about 2/3 the way through any long event.

Before I started the 9 mile trip back up to Potato Patch, I had to stop and get off for some horse people coming down the gravel.  So I pulled out my King Size PayDay and had a moment of bliss, chewing on the sweet and salty candy bar.  I got to chew for a while as the horse train passed by.  

The first mile is the hardest, and then after that I just settled in to 70 minutes of just grinding away the miles.  I stopped by the piped spring and refilled one bottle ... and pee'd again.  I was back in the right mindset now and enjoyed the undulating climb.  I checked my average speed and saw that I was going to miss my goal, but not by much.  No worries, it was fun playing the game. 

As I turned left and gathered up speed, I yelled out in triumph.  It was now all downhill; even better was knowing that I would NOT have to make that horrendous climb on the Mulberry Gap property.  I just had to make it to the gate.  That 18 minute descent was friggin' spectacular.  I didn't even mind that short 1/4 mile climb back up to the finish.

Ripley was the perfect weapon for this course.  I could have done without the dropper though and would have saved a pound.  Hmmm, did that extra pound cost me 11 minutes?  Probably not.

I even got to see Ginni, the Master Chef, who after 15 years is retiring.  We had a nice long chat.  Hard to imagine she is 80 and still has spunk.  But it is time for her to pursue happiness elsewhere.  Her feisty attitude and soul-filled food will be missed.  She played a lead role in making MG what it is today.  No doubt the young pups, Kate and Andrew, will continue to improve upon what is already a great mountain getaway.

Death March Revival Race Report

89 miles and 13,000 feet, not including my little detour at the end.

I was excited to hear that Kim Murrell of Chilhowee Outdoors, LLC, was bringing back a classic route ... with a couple twists.  The Death March route dates back to the original Cohutta 100 mountain bike race.  The route was the gravel portion of the hundie.  I used to do this ride every year, either as part of the NUE race or as a good hard training ride.  The Death March revival route is this route but with a few add-ons including the Big Frog Loop and riding from and back to Mulberry Gap, who was kind enough to host the race.  This added a few miles and a few thousand feet of climbing.

Before I get into my race, I wanted to discuss my bike set up as I had quite a few inquiries leading up to race day.  The race was completely self supported.  No course markings and no resupply, other than water at the 50 mile mark.

Niner Air 9 RDO, 19.0 pounds without the gear.

While my Niner RLT RDO is the perfect weapon for the rolling flint hills of Kansas, I needed the stability and gear range that my hardtail would provide for the chunk of the Big Frog Loop as well as the fast and curvy descents of Potato Patch and FS 17.  There were some "flattish" sections, but not enough to justify a skinny tire rigid gravel machine.

I opted for the Brad Cobb-approved Bontrager XRO 2.0 tires.  50mm wide and with just enough knob to take the "scare" out of drifting through the corners.  Drivetrain was an Eagle with a 34T.  And Ergon GS3 for multiple hand postions.

Kept her warm and cozy in the cabin the night before.

With this being my backyard, I knew the course, but still rode with my Garmin 510 ... with the course uploaded, just in case.  I had two Revelate Designs Mountain Feedbags (one for a bottle, the second for food), an Oveja Negra Snack Pack for tools and light battery, a Backcountry Research Super 8 Top Tube Strap (for securing additional clothing), and a Bontrager seat bag with 2 tubes, 2 CO2's, tire levers, repair kit).  I normally use the Backcountry Research Race Strap instead of seat bag, but with the additonal gear necessary for a self supported race and wanting to keep most of the weight off my back, I was forced to use the saddle scrotum.  I did use the Backcountry Research Tul Bag which I kept in my jersey (it is in the bottom of the picture above).  It safely and neatly contains all of my tiny tool bits (multi tool, tire patches, tube patches, quick links, chain links, water purification tabs, cleat bolt). 

We were blessed with atypical December weather.  Dry and warm-ish with a starting temp of 42 degrees.  I still did a 15 minute warm up in my cabin which consisted of jumping jacks, high knees, butt kicks, push ups, squats, and lunges.  I've found this little work out to be preferential to warming up on the bike in a less than ideal area (steep hilly terrain) or temperature (less than 48 degrees).

The start was casual and with conversation.  Having a hill to climb right out of the gate allowed my engine a gradual warm up and kept the head gasket intact.  I could tell that the massage I had 3 days prior by Virginia at ReVive Massage Therapy had worked magic on my legs as they felt fresh and spry (dare I say sparkly?). 

Once the group turned onto FS 90, the group blew apart as the front runners turned up the wattage.  I kept pace with Elizabeth, but once we turned right onto FS 68, I was seeing heart rate numbers I knew I could not sustain without blowing up, so I backed off and watched her slowly get smaller and finally disappear about halfway up the Potato Patch climb.  There was a male racer who had a similar pace to mine about 150 meters ahead of me.  Knowing what was to come once I hit the top, I slowly and without too much effort, made my way up to his wheel.  I finally connected to him after I turned left  at the top.  Rolling up to him, I realized it was Van, my old SuperSport team mate.  Awesome sauce! 

Photo Credit:  Dondiart Photography

The next 4 miles was rolling ridge line. I tucked in behind Van on the downhills to get as much free speed as possible.  I stuck to him like glue.  There was a few times where I popped off his wheel, but realizing that I could not go at his pace without detriment, I would ride my own pace and slowly reel him back in at the top of the climb.  We yo-yo'd throughout these miles.  He got away from me on the final descent to FS 17 ... and blew right by the turn.  I yelled at him; he heard me and did a 180 without losing too much time.

FS 17 was fast and furious!  I got a glimpse of Elizabeth just ahead and within a mile had her reeled back in.  I stayed on her wheel through a few tricky turns.  Realizing she was on a rigid fork and being a little more cautious, I opted for the pass when the road opened up and I could safely get by without the risk of becoming a hood ornament should a vehicle suddenly appear.

By this time Van had caught back up to me and then we latched onto another racer who was making awesome time down the mountain and picking good lines.  Once the three of us hit FS 16 and began encountering a few short climbs, I knew I was going to have a great race.  Instead of the normal "heavy leg syndrome" I get after having descended forever and then having to get back on the gear, the legs felt light and lively.  Hot damn!  It was going to be a "chainless" day!

Towards the end of FS 16, I caught up to Eric who was in the midst of eating a slice of pizza while racing his single speed. At the start of the race, he had told me he felt under prepared after seeing my set up, since all he had to eat was a pizza.  I thought he was joking.  Crazy singlespeeder!  But I was also a bit envious of his ability to eat whatever and still have a good performance.  He has since become The Dirty Diesel in my book of superheroes.

After finishing off his gluten bomb, he quickly passed me back.  I made a feeble attempt to follow in his wash, but could not hang on.  I did, however, manage to catch back up to him on the flat section on FS 221.  Ahhh, the power of gears!

On this only mellow section of the course, I made some mental calculations of my nutrition intake up to this point.  I was holding steady at 200 kcal/hour and 18 ounces of fluid/hour.  I was still feeling fresh, which was good, as the Big Frog Loop was fast approaching, the most technical portion of the race.  I caught up to a few more single speeders on the flats, one being Chris Joice.  Either he was having a bad day or I was having an extremely good one, as I usually never see him during the race.  I was hoping for the latter.  But after he refilled his bottle at the spring on the beginning of the loop, he left me for good on the subsequent climb.

The climbing was over before I knew it and then the fun began.  A screaming fast descent, littered with leaves, baby heads, and embedded slabs of rock.  I wanted to go, go, go, but also held a little back, as now was not the time for any stupid mistakes.  Halfway down, I hit a rock HARD with my rear tire, felt the rim kiss the rock, and then the rear end began feeling loose.  God bless America, I said to myself, as I felt the rear tire going flat.  That saying has become my new "swear" word, keeping my explicatives civil, yet still allowing for that release of frustration.

I pulled over, saw an ever so tiny puncture along the tread, and thought I would at least try to see if it would seal.  Several racers passed by and asked if I was ok and if I needed anything.  I want to thank them for their concern:  true gentlemen.

I had just recently switched from Stan's (which I had never had a successful outcome with anything bigger than a thorn puncture) to Trucker Co. Cream sealant.  I whipped out my CO2 inflator and began screwing it onto my cartridge.  2 turns on and CO2 spewed out from the threads, to which I quickly learned that I won't ever again use a cartridge with rusty threads!  I grabbed my hand pump and began vigorously pumping the tire back up.  After what seemed like an eternity, the puncture sealed, the tire held air, and I was back in business.

I still had plenty of rough descending left.  I was nervous about the tire and so gingerly made my way down.  I absolutely did not want to put a tube in.  When I finally made it off the loop 20 minutes later and back onto FS 221, I convinced myself to giv'r and not worry anymore about the tire.  Back on a smooth surface, I ramped up the power again.

I flew back across the ridgeline, plummeted down to Big Creek, and once again caught up to The Dirty Diesel who, guess what?  Yep, enjoying another slice of pizza!  Finishing that slice off, he hammered his way up the short but steep climb out of Big Creek and left me again.

Upon seeing mile 47 on my Garmin, I realized I had about another 3 miles to the checkpoint manned by Zeke.  It was here that I began to play in my head the sequence of events that would happen when I hit the CP.  I always do this prior to hitting an aid station, so that hopefully I will not forget anything once I arrive.

Scott's Bikes ... a surprise oasis!

Upon arriving I was greeted by Doug and my LBS.  They had brought out their cheerful smiles and some food for us crazies!  Although they could not physically help in any way, the moral support was priceless.

Zeke reaching down to pick up a dose of Revolution for his cat that I brought for him.

After checking in and writing down my name and time of day, I went about refilling my bottles, giving Zeke my trash, putting my phone on airplane mode, grabbed a banana, and heading back out on course.

I managed to catch up to Van as well as those who had passed me while I was fixing my puncture. I also managed, in NASCAR fashion, to beat them all out of the checkpoint.

Van caught back up to me on the descent and together we worked with one another to conquer the "Three Bitches."  Some call these three little climbs "The Dragon's Tail," but I like Zeke's name better.  I felt good going up these nasty pitches.  Van kept looking at the remaining profile and commenting on all the climbing.  I know once he started talking like that, he was feeling the fatigue monster on his back.  We stayed together through Tumbling Creek, making our way back into Georgia on FS 22.  We caught up to Gary and Mark and rode with them for awhile as we made our way up to Dally Gap. 

Just before Dally, Gary and Mark popped off.  Soon after passing Dally and headed towards Watson, Van popped off.  I was on my own now.  I missed the company, but not enough to slow down my happy pace.  I couldn't believe how good my legs were feeling.  Yeah, fatigue was setting in, no doubt, but it wasn't painful.  I was enjoying the intensity of the climbing, listening to the rhythm of my breathing, and feeling the musculature contractions as I pushed the pedals over.  I was so in tune to my body, living in the now, and just melting into the wildness of this beautiful country.

The climb up to Dyer cemetery snapped me out of the meditative state I had been in as I felt the first lactic acid build up in my legs.  I don't know why this 1 - 1 1/2 mile gradual climb felt so awful, but in every race I always have a low point.  Usually it lasts a lot longer than this 10 minutes, so I was fortunate I got back to my happy place while I was bombing down to Jack's River Fields.

Now I knew I only had 9 miles of "climbing" left.  I say that in parentheses because there were some short descents and false flats in this section back up to Potato Patch.  The first climb out of Jack's River was steep and tough, but I welcomed it with open arms.  I laughed out loud, shouting, "Is this all you got?"  I wasn't bonking, but using the power of positivity to claw my way up this mountain.  And it worked!  I forgot about the pain that was settling in my back and legs.

Once on top, I hit the rollers like a mad woman.  I pretended I was on my single speed, hammering up the climbs, seeing how long I could stand and pedal.  The feelings of strength, power, and sheer fortitude were amazing! 

The euphoric state quickly vanished as I was coming down off that blistering straight fast descent (with the overlook on the left) and had to come to an almost complete stop as some idiot with a trailer was parked right in the middle of the dang road!  At least I made him think I might just run his ass right over as he was outside of his vehicle and leapt out of my way as I slowed from 25mph to 5mph.

It was a bit difficult to find my mojo as the road suddenly kicked up towards the heavens.  There are 2 (maybe 3) steep ass climbs leading back up to Potato Patch.  Just as I thought I was near the top I would round the corner and road ... kept ... going ... UP.  The pain was about to be over as I looked at my Garmin ... just a half mile to go.

And there I was, with plenty of daylight to spare about to descend down Potato Patch and back to Mulberry Gap.  I began to fantasize what Ginny and crew had prepared for dinner.  Even though I was probably somewhat dehydrated, I managed to salivate at the thought!

OMG, the corn pudding!

That descent was brrrr cold!  My eyes were watering so bad I had to slow down as my vision became impaired.  Halfway down I lost feeling in my fingers.  I should have thrown my vest on for the descent, but not knowing where second place was and having lost a chunk of time with the tire fix, there was no telling how far ahead I was.  Every ... second ... counted.

Right at the fork continuing on FS 68, I was ready for some climbing to thaw out my body.  I went through the Land of Luxuious Cabins,  pedaling wherever I could to keep the engine going.  I started descending again and as I rolled around a corner to the right I happened to look back and see a road on the left.  It looked somewhat familiar, perhaps someone's driveway. I didn't have the course turned on as I thought I knew it ... hehe.  So I continued racing down the road until I saw some road construction I had not seen on the way out, earlier that morning.  God bless America!  I was going down CCC Camp Road towards Eton!

I whipped my bike around and high tailed it the 3/4 mile back up to where I had gone off course.  I was in panic mode and even though the climb was steep, I felt no pain as the adrenaline was being squeezed out of my adrenals.  I just knew I was going to get passed in these final minutes.  Once I got to the intersection where I should have slowed down and gone left, I shook my head.  Dumb mistake!  I continued as hard as I could racing back to Mulberry, climbing that 23% grade back up to the barn.

This photo does no justice to how insanely steep this climb is.

Despite my best efforts to finish out of first place, I ended up winning with a time of 8:06 and with an 11th overall.  Crossing the finish line, I was super proud of my effort all day long.  When asked how my race went, I replied "comfortably hard."  I attribute this feeling to the rest and recovery techniques I employed in the week leading up to this event. I was blessed to be firing on all cylinders and to have the calmness and patience when faced with adversity.  It also helped that the weather and course conditions were near perfect.

Twenty minutes after finishing, the tidal wave of fatigue hit me and swept me off my feet.  I was an empty shell.  But no better place to be on "E" than at Mulberry Gap.  Kim had provided a great post race meal followed up with Ginny and Andrew's comfort food a little while later.  My belly was in paradise!  After dinner, I waddled back to my cabin and fell into a food coma.

Missy was absent for the podium as she was out on course trying to find something to huck off of.

You could see the effort, love, and detail Kim put into this race.  Everyone was thrashed but happy to have accomplished such a lofty goal.  This was by far the hardest 1 day gravel event in Tennessee and Georgia!

May the weather set a precedent for all future DMR's.  I am writing the Saturday following the race where it snowed the night before and the temperatures were 29-40 degrees.