Tellico Highlands ITT

North River Road

October 28 was the absolute perfect day to ride this route.  The foliage was at its peak, the temps were mild (55-75, low humidity), and the road conditions were close to primo.  And I started in good company with Lindsey, Courtney, and John.

I opted to ride my Niner Air 9 RDO with Maxxis Rambler 50's.  My lower back had been angry the past two weeks, and even though I had muted the pain by loading with Aleve the couple days prior, I wanted to limit the potential for aggravation.

Only a pound heavier than my CheckPoint

Lindsey and Courtney set a pretty brisk pace up Wildcat Road, FS 384.  I hung on towards the back, but far enough away to not draft.  I had to back off some on the Bald River Road climb, but was able to catch back up on the descent down to Holly Flats.  My bike handled the sketchy washboarding perfectly and I was so much more comfortable being able to stay seated some, as compared to when I had ridden this on my gravel bike a few weeks back.

Basin Gap at top of Bald River Road

Riding down River Road, I pulled off at the game check station to use the restroom and refill a bottle.  I lost contact with the gang, as they did not stop.  I slowly caught back up to them over the several miles of false flat on North River Road.  Once the climb began to steepen, I was unwilling to keep the pace Linsdsey and Courtney were setting, so I drifted back, but was still able to keep them within eye contact.

My gameplan was to keep it comfortably hard until I hit the Farr Gap climb, and then if I was still feeling good, I would ramp up the effort.  I made sure to fuel every 30 minutes and try to take in about 60 grams of carbs per hour.

John fell off the pace, too, but not before he mentioned that there was a piped spring on North River Road (the one we were currently climbing).  Hmmm, as long as I have been riding this road, I had never seen it.  But sure enough, about 4 miles from the top, I saw it on the left.  I know where I will be refilling now, instead of the game check station, as that water tasted quite awful today.

Once on the Skyway, there was still more climbing ... ughh!  Here is where I had my low moment.  Even though the Skyway is mostly downhill, there are still 3 ugly pitches that had me grumbling, to which my inner demon responded and enticed me to slow down, perhaps stop at an overlook and take in the view.  Nope, nope, hell nope!  This only made me dig deeper, stand and hammer, and aero tuck so hard on the subsequent descents that my neck and back began to cry a little.

Heading to Indian Boundary, I was looking forward to the lake trail.  Little did I know that this was the last weekend the campground was open and 2 busloads of church peeps had just unloaded and were walking on the trail.  It was wall to wall people that I had to maneuver around, all the while keeping a smile and talking pleasantries as I yielded to them.  I started to get pretty tense as I waited 2, 3, 4 minutes at the one lane bridge with chain link on both sides as people SLOWLY made their way across.  Finally there was an opening and I took it.

As I rode past the campground store, I looked for Lindsey and Courtney.  Not seeing them, I finished the lake loop and proceeded down Citico Creek Road.  I stopped to use the restroom just before the turn off to Farr Gap, and then took a 200mg caffeine pill.  I was hoping to catch Lindsey and Courtney on this loop, most likely on the descent, as Lindsey was riding her gravel bike.

Doublecamp Road was chunky and now covered in leaves.  Once again, I was thankful to be on my mountain bike.  And the dull ache in my lower back, which had been present the last 40 miles, was now gone.  Don't know why, but not gonna complain.  Feeling good, I ramped up my effort, and had my second fastest time up this climb.  Yea for small victories!

Farr Gap climb

By the time I had reached the top, I was feeling sparkly.  I just knew I would be able to catch them on the descent.  Despite the leaf cover and rowdiness of the gravel, I cautiously sent it!  A couple times I hit a rock hidden by the leaves hard enough for me to anticipate the sealant flinging out of my tire, but fortunately I did not puncture. As I was approaching the bottom, I could not believe I hadn't caught at least Lindsey.  She must have "Hail Mary'd" it off the top!

At the bottom, I filled my bottles one more time at the piped spring.  I hard charged it down to the Miller Ridge turn off, and began to climb.  For once, I was glad to see the climb profile pop up on my Garmin.  This allowed me to redline my effort on the climbs and recover on the short descents.  People often refer to this 9 mile section as "death by a thousand rollers." While the profile looks pretty tame compared to the rest of the course, it hits you hard, and if you haven't saved a little energy for this last section, it will gut punch you.

While I was climbing I kept looking for tire tracks.  There were spots along the course that I should have seen their tracks, but I was not.  I did question if somehow I had leapfrogged them.  It would have had to been at the campground store.  Believing they were still in front, along with the caffeine-induced euphoria, kept me pushing hard.

Once I finished up Miller's Ridge, I thought it was all downhill to the finish.  What I forgot was the section of Rafter's Road and Turkey Creek that undulated ... forever it seemed.  At least the scenery was spectacular!

Turkey Creek Road

Approaching the lower Turkey Creek Road closure, I was concerned about passage.  Was I going to have to put on my sweetest, most innocent southern belle voice I could muster and talk my way through?  

I had no problems accessing.  I put down the hammer and rode like a scalded dog.  I squeezed in between a pick up truck and a dump truck at the bottom and then TT'd it down River Road.  No one was gonna catch me now.  

As I approached my truck at the Oosterneck Overlook, Lindsey and Courtney, nor their bikes, were nowhere to be found.  I had been chasing ghosts for the past 45 miles!  Oh, well!  That was a good thing, as it made me push harder than I probably would have had I started this journey solo.

They showed up not too long after me.  They had indeed stopped at the campground store and got caught in a line at the cash register.  And then each of them had punctured on Farr Gap, but managed to plug their tires.  DynaPlug for the win!  Had it not been for those two setbacks, I would have indeed been chasing them all the way to the finish.  Such strong powerful and fun women to ride with!

Lindsey's nail

Our official photographer, always on the ready.

I managed to set a time of 8 hours, on the nose, which I believe is good enough for the FKT.  At least I get the chance to hold it for a bit, until Heather Jackson, comes and obliterates it 😆.  But both Lindsey and Courtney are fully capable of taking it, as long as they ditch the store stop, and keep air in their tires.

Fall Invitational Race (or Ride) Report

 

The brainchild of Tennessee Gravel's Shannon and Jedi course master Kim, the Fall Invitational is an invite only race that begins out of Fireside OutPost , near Gee Creek State Park.  In order to get an invite, you must finish at least one of three ITT's within a year's timespan, which runs from July 1 through June 30.  I did all 3, because that is how I roll.  And, it is in my "backyard"  and the routes are heinously hard, but also stunningly beautiful.

A handful of us bike crackheads showed up, some from as far away as Colorado and Michigan, to tackle this course on a beautiful fall day at the peak of color.  Not sure the exact number (25'ish) as the start was at 7 am and in the dark.  It was going to be a surprise course, meaning no GPX tracts provided, just cue sheets, but then Kim got soft as the starting temperature was right at freezing and did not want us to suffer with trying to pull paper out of our pockets with our Michelin Man hands all bundled up in winter gloves.  So she sent us the course the night before.  Turns out it was about 70% of the D130 course, but in reverse.

Lost Creek area

Although the start was chilly, I was able to stand by the campfire right up until Shannon said, "Go!"  My fingers and toes were sandwiched in between layers of wool, latex gloves, and chemical warmers.  I was able to hang with the fast guys for most of the way up Spring Creek Road, staying close to the draft while still allowing me to visualize the road and skirt around the dozens of potholes.  The legs were surprisingly there, but it was just a tad bit too fast once I hit the pavement so I let them go.  

Turning onto Lost Creek Road, I was excited to be making good time at my comfortably hard pace.  But once the climbing began, my lower back began to moan, groan, and then full on seize up. WTF!  There had not been any previous indication in the week leading up to this event, and I had taken a chill pill from the gym to ensure all body parts would be happy.  But it was like someone was sticking a knife between L4 and L5 every time I tried to make power on the downstroke.  Hoping that this would only be temporary, as I have been dealing with this issue intermittently over the past 4 years, I kept the pace up and just dealt with the pain.

The gravel was groovy through this section.  Hard packed and fast!  I got to watch the world wake up.  The fog lifted revealing the stunning palette of color.  When I turned onto Smith Mountain Road (FS80), I realized that my race was quickly turning into a ride.  The pain had intensified and the grades of 15-18% on this stretch of chunky gravel made me think about bailing on the long route and just doing the shortie.  This was a SOB of a climb, even when everything is working.  Finally making it to the ridgeline, I was greeted with a spectacular view.  I stopped to photograph the vista and stretch out my back.

This view never gets old!

I made it to Graham and Cassandra who were manning the first checkpoint at mile 30.  Their support lifted my spirits while I threw down a banana.  Back on Kimsey Mountain Hwy, I wish I could say I blasted down to McFarland, but this road has really become eroded over the years and is quite chunky now.  

McFarland Road only got gnarlier.  More of a double track over slabs of off camber rock and now covered in leaves, I was wishing I had a squishy bike and more rubber.  I soon came upon a fellow by the name of Tater who was fixing a flat.  I stopped to make sure he had everything he needed, which he did, and then motored on.  The rugged condition of this road had my back and bladder in an uproar.  I could fix the bladder part, so I stopped.  After the nature break which also helped to stretch out my muscles, I continued on.  At least it was mostly descending.  Tater caught back up and passed me back.

Crockett, the right bike for this adventure ... for the most part.

Just before I dumped out onto Kimsey Mountain Highway, I found Tater again, wheel off and looking pretty frustrated.  I stopped and asked  again if he needed anything. He had flatted again and this time he was out of tubes, CO2's, and his hand pump was broken.  At the point farthest from rescue, I gave him one of my tubes and CO2 (I always carry at least 2 of each, along with a patch kit).  After a brief chat, I continued on. There was nothing more I could do anyway and I was getting chilled and there was a big descent coming up.

Final climb on Kimsey

Back on smooth grav grav, I hauled butt down for several miles.  The brief stop to help Tater also helped my back.  I was able to put some power back into the pedals on the final climb back up to FS236. It was roughly at this point that I began to see a few other cyclists out and about.  I was amazed that there were so many, but later came to realize that at least 4 or 5 in the event did the course backwards, by mistake.  As Chris Joice stated later, they took the Etrex route 😆😆.

FS236 came and went and soon I was crossing the bridge at the Appalachian Powerhouse.  Then for some buttery smooth pavement where I could do some on the bike stretches.  I stopped at one of the outhouses, applied some Chamois Butt'r, and changed out gloves and removed my ear warmer.  The sun was out and it had finally started warming up around noon.  Tater stopped to make sure I was ok.  I was glad to see him with working tires.  Together we rode to the next checkpoint at mile 53. During this time, he told me a little about himself: that he grew up on Childer's Creek Road, how an Indian medicine woman cured him permanently of getting poison ivy, and where the old still used to be.

Shannon's wife was manning the checkpoint.  I grabbed a caffeinated gel and a banana, thanked her for being there and headed out on Towee Pike.  I absolutely love this section of gravel. Tight twisty, both left/right and up/down, it flows well and for the most part is smooth.  I couldn't rock it out like I wanted to, but having Tater there to keep me entertained made my day.  I slowly pulled away from him on one of the stouter climbs and hit Towee Falls and then missed the turn onto Ivy Trail.  The reason being, is that Ivy got tar and chipped.  I was used to seeing asphalt and today it looked more like a gravel road.  

I liked the past Ivy Trail much better.  Although rough in spots, at least I could hit the corners at speed.  Not today; too much loose tiny gravel.  Kinda the same feeling as when the forest service throws down a ton of #2 rock on the fire roads: no bueno!  And dayem!  Ivy seemed to go on forever today.  Tater caught back up to me as I was starting up Bullet Creek Road.  Being the final climb today and already into 9000 feet of elevation gain, along with a jacked back, my little goose was cooked!  

We party paced this one, talking bikes, Litespeed (where he once was a welder), fork trail, and all kinds of nerdy goodness that allowed me to focus on something other than my spine. I was glad for the popping leaves and tree cover, as although the temps had risen 20 degrees, there was still enough chill in the air to where I did not have to shed any layers and then have the complicating factor of where to stash them.

Final switchback on the Starr Mountain climb

The final checkpoint was at the top of the Starr Mountain climb at mile 70.  Low and behold who should I see but my favorite Tennessee gravel buddy John.  He had been able to stay with the leaders much longer than I, so I had not seen him all day.  One more banana and I was ready to finish this beast: just 15 to go and mostly downhill.

I was glad to have John there to get me through to the end.  We each chatted about how our day went and I would draft off of him when I could.  Tater caught back up to us along Spring Creek Road and we ended up riding into the finish together.  Whew!  What a day of both highs and lows.  It was a different kind of pain cave for me today.  I think I like the dead leg ones better.

Anyways, since I was the only female, all I had to do was finish to get the WIN.  For me it was a hard fought battle between me, myself, and I.  The two things that kept me from pulling the plug were Tater's attitude and those three letters ... DNF.

Today, my back is still very sore, but at least I have a beautiful Sunday for some stretching and yoga.  And good memories of yesterday to reflect upon.

Thanks Shannon, Shannon's wife (sorry forgot your name), and Kim for an outstanding ITT series and final event.  I have enjoyed the battles I have fought and won (for the most part) along the way.  

Oh, one more thing.  Always add 1000 more feet of gain to whatever is published on the website 😆

As much as I enjoy traveling to other parts of the country to participate in gravel races or rides, it just can't quite compare to what I have got right here, 30 minutes from the house.  Appalachia just has my 💓.

  

Tellico Highlands ITT Ride Report

At the finish (notice who has the deepest squat hold 😏)

The Tellico Highlands is one in a series of three gravel ITT's put on by Tennessee Gravel.  I had completed the Death March Revival back in the winter and the Dirty 130 last month.  Wanting to finish all three before the end of June (the series runs from July 2020 through June 2021), I enlisted some awesome suffer buds, Jeff Cohen and John Switow.

This would be my 4th BDR for the year.  I suppose I should give you some background into why I call some of my adventures Big Dumb Rides.  BIG stands for a challenge that I think is probable, but that it is going to be hard, really hard. I will have to dig deep, not only physically, but mentally, as well.  There will be times of pure joy smattered with bits of holy hell.  And it is how I respond to the suck that will determine the outcome. I go BIG for me, not for a podium, not to compare myself to others, but to compete against myself.  

DUMB stands for the look I get when I tell non ultra endurance cyclists or athletes what I am about to do.  There are many who just don't get it or just maybe have never experienced that endorphin rush.  To them it seems like lunacy. Why would you want to put your body through that, they say.  Why not?  Where's the challenge of sitting at home, inside, doing nothing but mind-numbing activities? You have this great machine, your body, right at your fingertips, just dying to show you the magic it can perform.  Take it for a test ride and you will be amazed at what you can do, given a little training and mental fortitude.  

Your BDR doesn't have to be what my BDR is.  It can be anything that takes you to the edge of your limit.  And what you will find is that those limits can be pushed beyond what you think they are.  The after effects are phenomenal!  

Now, back to the Tellico Highlands ITT.  90 miles and 11,000 feet of climbing, as fast as you can do it.  Self-supported, you either carry your nutrition with you, or find re-supply along the way (filtering water or finding an open store along the route, of which there are two: Green Cove and Indian Boundary camp store). You can ride with others, but not take any assistance from them.  It is up to you and only you to complete the route.

Mother Nature gave us almost primo conditions.  It rained the day before, settling all the dust, but making some sections a little muddy.  It was 60 degrees and overcast at the start, with no wind.  Forecast called for 15% chance of scattered showers for the morning. I opted for my summer kit and took no extra clothing, i.e. vest or rain jacket.    I knew it would probably be cooler up on the Skyway, but hopefully short-lived.

We started a little after 8 am.  Hitting River Road, I enjoyed a brief warm up on smooth pavement before hanging a right on Wildcat. Let the climbing commence!  Hero gravel!  Smooth and firm made the climb seem almost too easy.  Wait! What?  My legs were not heavy, not barking immediately, and definitely not dead.  Feeling great, but knowing the day was early, I settled into an all day speed.  Everyone was all talky talky on this climb, which then rolled awhile, and then briefly descended to the start of the Dry Basin climb.

Overcast and misty was perfect for this climb which has very minimal tree cover.  The gravel was settled nicely from yesterday's rain, giving us perfect traction; probably the best shape I have seen this climb in. 

Dry Basin climb

At the top, we ran into another rider.  Alex from Knoxville was out doing his own big loop, which included much of ours but then also added more Skyway and the Santeelah gravel climb.  He was sorta new to the area and was out exploring.  He couldn't believe just how beautiful this area of  Tennessee was.  I know, I have lived here my whole life and am still pinching myself when I set out on these mountainous roads.

Holly Flats 

We made good time back to River Road, opted out of the Green Cove stop and refilled our water at the game check station. It had been misting for the last 20 minutes or so, but now it turned to a light rain.  At least it was warm and we were about to hard charge into the biggest climb, North River Road. This 10 mile 2500 foot climb would put us at only 29 miles in, but already having climbed 1/2 of the ride's elevation ... oof! Today would not be a PR, but a steady tempo to the top.  I was still feeling good, but it appears that Jeff was feeling even better, as his pace put him out of eyesight about halfway up.  John and I stayed together, knowing that if we tried to reel Jeff back in, we could easily implode.

Rationing the sweet and salty goodness, one big bite per climb.

My Garmin read 43 degrees at the top and we were enshrouded in clouds.  I was soaked with a mixture of sweat and rain, but so far all the extremities were warm.  The rain stopped, but the climbing didn't. We still had another couple of miles on the Skyway. 

Cherohala Skyway

As much as I was all climbed out, I was wishing for more as the never ending descent to Indian Boundary began.  By the time we turned onto the road to the lakeside trail, the fingers and toes were frozen, but fortunately the core was still warm.  I looked down at my Garmin as we entered the single track; we were making really good time, as in maybe FKT'able.  Excited that the legs still felt good and we were approaching the halfway point, I kept the pace brisk.  And then this ...

WTF?!?

We attempted to just sneak on through, but, of course, state employees were working on a bridge and would NOT let us proceed.  At first, I was a little upset, but knowing it was out of my control, I acquiesced.  After some commiseration with John and Jeff, we decided to ride the trail CCW until we came to the trail closure sign on the other side and then get back on course.  Ultimately we missed about a 100 yard section of the course, but more than made up for it with an additional 2.5 miles and a negative time bonus of 25 minutes ... grrrrr. Bye bye FKT.

Meh

Oh, well, today's ride was really not about trying to get the fastest time anyway.  Fellowship was one of the main goals and trumped FKT (it would have only been the fondit on an already heavily iced cake anyways).  We stopped at the campground store and refilled.  I made use of the campground bathhouse to empty the bladder and refresh the Chamois Butt'r.  I was in heaven for a couple of minutes when I found this ...

Hal-le-lu-jah!

I ran it a few cycles, warming my hands and drying out my gloves.  Since the re-route had taken the wind out of my sails a little bit, I was damn sure gonna enjoy some moments of luxury!

After yanking myself out of that little oasis, I went back to the store to rendezvous with the boys.  I found Jeff, but John was AWOL.  Man, it's like herding cats!  He was probably joining someone's picnic in the campground.  He finally showed up and with just at 5 hours in, we headed over to the Farr Gap climb.  The approach to it was a muddy mess, what with the recent grading, rain, and holiday traffic.  Once we turned onto Doublecamp Road, that takes us to Farr Gap, it was hero again.  

Jeff felt a little squishy in the rear, so pulled up.  He found a small sidewall tear.  Being that he was not doing the official ITT (a just for fun ride, he says), we were able to assist him.  I plugged it and then John pumped life back into the tire while Jeff held his bike.  We were able to fix that flat in about 8 minutes, and it held for the remainder of the day ... whew!

Happy the legs were still happy on Farr Gap

I was happy when we got rolling again and my legs woke back up quickly and without that heavy dead painful feeling.  I couldn't believe I still felt good!  I was able to hang with Jeff (he was still a beast!) but decided when I saw John falling off the pace to sit up and let him bridge back up to me.  This was a Three Musketeers kind of day:  All for one and one for all.  

Farr Gap climb

Once at the top we stopped for a pee break and to eat some more. I had another big PayDay bite, while John ate a PB&J. 

Careful where you squat ... poison ivy galore!

John must have gotten instant energy from his food, as he shot off like a rocket and blistered that heinous bumpy descent!  

Farr Gap vista

Jeff and I rode a bit more cautious, what with his recent flat issue and me just playing it smart on my slightly skinnier tires than John's.  Our last water refill was at the piped spring at the bottom of the descent.  

Citico Creek Road

The final climb was Miller's Ridge.  While the profile doesn't look bad, it has about a dozen or so punchy little hits that just add up to a TKO.  This is where I began to crack a little.  I wasn't feeling so zippy anymore, but I knew I would get through it.  So I just played the suffering game, inwardly smiling and thinking, "This all you got, MR?"  John ran out of gas again, but then hit the nitrous after inhaling a package of Honey Stinger blocks. I need to set him up with some sort of glucose CRI.

But with Mountain Dews instead of Coke

I finished the last of my PayDay at what I thought was the top, but then quickly found out that there was about another mile of this "up, down, up, down" meanness.  Finally we hit Turkey Creek, a sweet sweet mixed surface buttery smooth descent.  7 miles long and at just the right grade where braking is minimal, I was in heaven.  

Once we hit River Road, it was a 2 mile pedal up to grab our Bald River Falls selfie and then a 6 mile gradual descent back down to the finish.

Smiling me, thinking that it was just all downhill from here.

Well, let me tell you, the hardest part of this whole BDR was the final descent.  With 2 blown pistons, the finish was not coming quick enough.  I just knew I should be able to pedal faster, harder, but every time I tried to eek out more watts, I would redline.  I was so done!  I watched the miles slowly tick off.  Finally the end was in sight.

With the on the fly reroute at Indian Boundary, I ended up with 94 miles, ride time of 8:32, and a total time of 9:30.  That ride has got to be in my top 10 of local gravel routes.  The "eye candy" was just phenomenal. Good Lord, I live in such a beautiful place!

And my partners!  I could not have asked for anyone better ... maybe equal ... but not better.  Such awesome dudes with positivity all day long.  Thank you, thank you, thank you, Jeff and John, for one of the best days ever on a bike.

And that post- ride potluck fellowship meal was 5 ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐.  Pasta salad, potato salad, potato chips, and strawberry shortcake.

Post ride feeding frenzy

You see the rocking chair John is sitting in.  Not 5 minutes prior to this photo, John, with open can of Mountain Dew in hand fell backward into it with enough force that he "endo'd", but still somehow managed to only spill a drop of his drink.  I never belly laughed so hard!  Unfortunately I was not quick enough with my phone then, but it is forever ingrained into my memory.  Thanks John 😂😂😂

So while the FKT remains with Elizabeth McCalley, much more important to me are the memories we made together.  Times may be forgotten, but not all the laughing we did that day.

And this would have never happened:  scaring the beJesus out of Jeff on the Farr Gap descent.

Big climbs deserve a King Size PayDay