Dirty 130

 

Always love the pre dawn starts

Hi.  I am Carey and I am a bikealholic.

I have done this race/ITT 5 times now.  I could probably just cut and paste from my previous reports. Even though the DMR YoYo was just 2 weeks ago, I decided to give it a go, as I had the opportunity in the calender to do so. I also had a camping trip with my family that started in 2 days, so I wanted to get all my "zoomies" out of me in order to not have any bike FOMO while vacationing. I invited John Switow to join in my madness, as he is a sucker for BDR's. 

Must document start and finish

This is the first time I chose to ride my Niner Air9 RDO.  The combination of age and route deterioration had me wanting bigger tires and front suspension.  The time I figured I would lose on the road sections would well be made back by the comfort over the long haul and on the fast chunky descents. I rode Maxxis Ramblers 50mm.  I chose 2 28 ounce water bottles and was able to put all my nutrition and tools on my bike (Revelate Designs feedbag and Oveja Negro top tube bag).

Even though we started at the same time, I made sure to follow the rules set forth by Kim Murrell and TennesseeGravel.com. The only thing we shared was conversation. 

It was a muggy 68 degrees at the start (dew point of 70).  Highs were expected in the upper 80's, with only a slight chance of showers (which I was hoping for).  As we began the 10 mile climb up Kimsey Mountain Hwy (FS 68), the legs felt surprisingly good, not sparkly, but way better than I had expected.  However, what I wasn't expecting was lower back pain halfway up the climb. I already knew this might be a problem, as I had woken up to my usual stiff lower back.  Normally,  I try to avoid NSAID/s the day of a big ride/race, but I took 2 Aleve.

Occasionally I would stand and pedal, which alleviated the pain.  I was hoping that my back would sort itself out over the next hour, because there was no way I could handle this amount of discomfort all day. The sunrise was spectacular as I crested the climb.  The beauty of these mountains surrounded me in comfort and awe and I descended Smith (FS 80) with gratitude, for my ability to play these games.  Smith had gotten some "love" earlier this year, but Mother Nature was determined to take it back to its chunkified state.  It was nice to descend this rowdy section on my Niner.

On the way over to Lost Creek, my back kept getting angrier.  Part of me was beginning to have thoughts of pulling the plug once I hit Hwy 30, but the mental game was strong and the other part of me just said to give it some more time.  Since the legs were feeling well, I stood and pedaled quite a bit on this section over to Webb Store.

Stopping at Webb's, I pee'd, refilled my bottles, and then stretched for 5 minutes while I waited on John to do his thing.  That helped some and then we were off to Hambright Road. Once the pavement turned to two-track, then to single track, I weaved my way around the mud and downed trees.

Making use of my fine bushwhacking skills

While I have heard through the grapevine that some riders opt to walk along the railroad tracks on the gravel, go through the creek, and then continue on the railroad gravel, that is NOT the official route.  FYI, the official route is on the mud-hole filled, over grown road bed, which lies 10-50 feet from the railroad.  If you want an official ITT time, you must take the more difficult path.

The crossing was almost chamois-deep for me.

Climbing up Starr Mountain, I began to feel the warmth of the day, like a hot heavy blanket draped over me. My back pain came back with a vengeance, and once again those thoughts of quitting entered my mind.  "I could finish this gravel section and pedal on nice flat pavement back to my truck.  I don't have to prove anything to anyone.  Haven't I done this route enough?"  While these thoughts kept playing on repeat, that gritty and gristled side of me wanted to prove to my weaker side that I could endure and persevere.  I told myself, just get to Coker Creek, enjoy a Coke, and stretch some more.  The pain will eventually leave if it realizes it is not going to win out.

I was able to rally on the ridgeline and felt good on the gravel descent down to the pavement.  I slowly pulled away from John on Ivy Trail; I think the heat was beginning to get to him.  Those 10 or so miles on pavement felt so slow, probably because of the mountain bike I chose and the fact that I was thinking I should be able to go at road bike speeds.

I made it to the Coker Creek visitor center and ate a rice cake ✔, pee ✔, apply Chamois Butt'r ✔, soak head/face in sink ✔, drink Coke ✔, refill bottles ✔, stretch back ✔. I multi-tasked to be more efficient, but it was kind of hard to eat my rice cake when I was bent over touching my toes 😆.  John arrived while I was almost finished and told me to go on, as he was in the middle of dealing with his own pains, cramping specifically.

That 13 minute stop was what I needed and miraculously I had no more lower back pain for the remainder of the ride. The miles over to Buck Bald were quite pleasant, as the gravel/dirt was hard packed. It was a slow go up to Buck Bald, as the heat was sweltering by now. But knowing that this was a day for adventure and not for PR's, I was in the right mindset, and I embraced the warmth.

Toasty!

The 17 miles back to Reliance was tough, not gonna lie.  The heat was getting oppressive and I did not want to blow a head gasket, so this was one of my slowest sections. I stopped along the Hiwassee and cooled off in Towee Creek for about 10 minutes. 

Keeping the bits happy after cooling off the engine.

I cooled off once again at the piped spring (mile 107) by sticking my head under the pipe.  Man, that felt so good and refreshing! By now early evening was upon me, leaving me with the final climb, but a doozie at 11 miles, with the last 4 being spicy!  It was still warm, but the sun's rays were no longer searing hot.  As I turned onto the double track of death climb, it was hard not to love life and hate it at the same time.  This is a beautiful stretch of road, but rugged as hell. I was elated to have persevered through the pain earlier in the day, where I had thought of quitting 13 times, but now it was replaced by extreme fatigue.  I was trying to remember how many steps there was to this climb: 3? 4?  Try 5!  Every time I thought that this was the last, I would round the corner and the road went back up. Finally I hit the short little descent that would drop me out on Kimsey Mountain Hwy (FS 68).  And I felt like a pinball , pinging off the gazillion baby heads.

This section of Kimsey, that climbs for 2 miles back up to the intersection of Smith Mountain was no better.  Because it was essentially a Paris Roubaix-like cobbled climb.  All the dirt had eroded, leaving a conglomeration of wicked, lumpy rocks. I couldn't hold it in any longer and my sailor mouth erupted in expletives.  That actually made me feel better and I bounced my way back up to the intersection.  From there, the road smoothed out and I knocked out that last little bit of climbing with renewed energy; guess I was smelling the barn.

The descent was SO MUCH MORE pleasant on my mountain bike.  My teeth didn't feel like they were gonna rattle out, and my eyeballs weren't bouncing around in my skull.  I was able to sit on the saddle quite a bit, which then allowed me to hit those few little kickers towards the end with gusto.

I finished with a time of 13:35 (moving time of 13:01). It never is easy (well, maybe the 2018 version), but I swear it keeps getting harder as I get older, although today's difficulty was probably a combination of the heat and only being 2 weeks recovered from the DMR YoYo. But deep down inside, I love these challenges.

I rested awhile on the concrete; it felt so good to just be still.  I waited on John, figuring he would probably be about an hour behind me.  But when dark thirty approached, I started to get nervous, thinking the worst.  I should have gotten the link to his Inreach, but later he told me it had died several hours ago, so it wouldn't have helped anyways.  Finally around 9:45pm, I saw bike lights off in the distance.  Whew!  John pulled in, looking like a corpse.  He had a helluva second half, working through cramps and ended up walking more than he wanted.  But he stuck it out and finished this beast.

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.

T Minus 6 Days Until Death March Revival Yo-Yo +

 

A reminder that playing bikes is fun!

As the day draws nigh, self-doubt tries to burrow its way into my soul.  While years of doing these grand adventures has forged my mental fortitude into a magnificent weapon, the physical struggle to finish them is undeniably getting harder.  

While I have done the Death March Revival many times, I distinctly remember the feeling of finishing with absolutely nothing left in the tank.  And now, I am going to turn back around and do it in reverse, and then add 2 additional climbs up FS 45, in order to get 29,045 feet of gain in this one ride.  That is 200 miles!  In less than 24 hours!  Fuck!

So I have been focusing on people that have made an impact in my life and drawing strength from their character.  Both Michael Rasch and Graham Skardon have done adventures much tougher than this.  Their strengths lie in being consistent, focusing on the now, and enjoying the ride, no matter how hard it gets.

There are the ladies older than I, who are still out there crushing it on the bike:  Lynn Sims, Nancy Waddell, and Beth Hoffmeister, to name a few.  I will lean heavily on them during my low moments.

And when I feel the "poor, pitiful me" moments, I will tell myself that I chose to endure this struggle. I will remove any negativity from my mind by thinking of those, both human and 4-legged, who are struggling every day through no fault of their own, but by the hands of others or just pure bad luck.

I am also very grateful that I have friends who are willing to endure this challenge with me.  Thanks, Dave, for stepping up to play my insane game.  

So while it may not be fast, pretty, or fun all of the time, it will just be ... my impossible route.

Pedaling for the Paws ... Again!

 

I have the desire to scratch this "pay it forward" itch that has been hounding me the past 6 months or so.  It is just the challenge that comes with it is daunting.  Back in 2020, I raised $8000+ for my local animal shelter.  I did this in conjunction with completing a virtual Everest on Zwift ... riding repeats of the Alpe Du Zwift climb in one single activity, until I ascended 29,028 feet.  A feat which took just under 13 hours.

Now I could just ask for donations and do nothing else.  But, for me, I need some sort of physical/mental challenge to accompany my requests for money from YOU.  It makes me feel that I am earning your dollars. And these days, I understand that budgets are tight.

I currently have 2 Everesting events under my belt.  The one I mentioned above and a road version I did prior to that on the Foothills Parkway, with my Rescue Racing partner, Scott Morman.  My first thought, was to do another, on gravel.  But then, another of my Rescue Racing team mates, David Jolin, wanted to join me. 

The more I thought about it, having David drive 8 hours from Ohio, to only get to see one 3.5 mile section of relatively boring gravel, 30 times, would just be cruel.  He should be able to ride through some of the best parts of the Cherokee National Forest and the Cohutta Wilderness.  So I have decided to do a Death March Revival yo-yo.  

94 miles, 13,800 feet of gain

What's a yo-yo, you ask?  It is riding the course in one direction and then, upon completion, turning around and riding it in the opposite direction.  This plus doing an extra climb on FS 45, will give me the elevation gain equal to the height of Mount Everest.  This won't be a true Everesting event, because the elevation gain must take place by doing repeats of one climb only. Nonetheless, it will be excruciatingly hard ... right up my alley of #doinghardthings.

I am planning my adventure for sometime around the summer solstice.  I will choose a date, either on June 22 or 23, depending on weather.

Since my virtual Everest in July 2020, the animal shelter has acquired a new building.  It is much larger and in a better location.  But, a lot of renovation needs to be done.  And for this, money is needed.  With this larger space, they will be able to house more animals and in a controlled environment.  

I am humbly asking you to give what you can.  Every little bit helps.  I am telling myself that the more I raise, the easier it will be to finish it😏.  My goal is to raise $2500 and perhaps find a "Ellen" or a "Rachel Ray" who could match it.

I am going to set up a FaceBook fundraiser where you can donate.  By donating here, I will be able to tell exactly how much I raise.  But if you want to donate directly to the animal shelter, here is the website for the McMinn Regional Humane Society.  If you donate directly, please tell me the dollar amount in the "Comments" section, so I can keep a running total.

Thank you and Happy Tails and Trails!

Carey

PMBAR Race Report

With no rain the day before, night of, or morning of, I questioned whether of not I was in Pisgah, or some altered dimension, as I was standing at the Start/Finish, in just a jersey and shorts, not shivering. Waiting for the shenanigans to begin, I was in my happy place.  While PMBAR is both physically and mentally demanding, it is also SO GOOD for the soul.  

Four weeks ago, I was trying to come up with another partner for Lisa, as my knee was so swollen and painful, it hurt to walk, and I could only spin at a recovery pace.  But there was still hope and I did all the things: ate well, slept well, mobility exercises, ice/heat, and many easy spins on the local rail trail.  Fortunately, healing vastly improved in the two weeks leading up to the event.  And just two days before, I got good news from my MRI:  a grade 2 tear of the MCL.  My doc said no surgery needed and I was halfway there to being fully healed, and to keep doing what I had been.  Hallelujah!  No meniscal tear and my ACL was happy!  

So I was ecstatic to be able to play bikes all day with my number one bestie.  Although my fitness had tanked the past 4 weeks, what no better way to get back at it than this.  Time was drawing near to the 8 am start, and I noticed there was no box of passports lying near Eric Wever's feet.  Josh, who was down from Ohio volunteering for the day, only snickered when I made mention.  Hmmm ... where were we gonna have to pedal to get our passports, I wondered?

Eric began the pre-race meeting and said the passports were at the intersection of Buckhorn and Black Mountain ... and that we had to take Black Mountain all the way there.  So up, up, and away we went.  It was a mad start as 200+ racers began sprinting up Black.  I put it in chill mode, as chill as one can get climbing 2800 feet in 6 miles, and let the wild bucks go.  The knee felt great, even at the higher torques; I was only disappointed that I could not do any wheel lifts or pedal out of the saddle when needing to get that extra "oomph."  So I had to dismount several times and HAB some sections, that under normal circumstances, were rideable.  

Black was in awesome shape, only a few spots of wetness, from springs. The re-route was so enjoyable and rideable.  The HAB's of middle Black were still SOB's and some of the descents were frustrating as there were conga lines and riders up my ass, who wanted to pass.  Trying to be patient and polite, I let them go, even though it stalled my forward progress ... by minutes.  Why couldn't they be all like Gordon Wadsworth and Scott "Smooshie" Harper, who knew this was NOT the day to try to "clean" the descents, but rather just allow the race to thin out and then enjoy putting your skills to the test?

I let Lisa ahead of me mid-way up, as I had a slightly easier gear and wanted her to ride at her pace. Six miles and a little over 2 hours later, Lisa grabbed the passport and we pulled out the map and began plotting our course.  We opted for a clockwise route, grabbing the mandatory CP at Club Gap first.  My only request in the days leading up to this race were to plot the best route with the least amount of HAB, as that is when my knee would get angry.  So we chose to go for only 4/5 CP's and leave out the one on Laurel Mountain, as the net gain in getting a 2 hour time bonus (for going for 5) would only be minimal, if not canceled out altogether, by the time it would take us (especially me) to grab that 5th one.

Upper Black was in primo condition.  On one hand, it sucked not being able to ride the rideable sections, but on the other hand, I realized how lucky I was just to be out here, in spectacular weather, and around great people. Putting the ego aside, I started calling myself  "Cripple Carey,"  after a Barbie doll my Dad had given Carly years ago, nicknaming her Cripple Becky.  Those fun memories, as well as making fun of myself, made getting off and on the bike a bit easier.

Club Gap CP passport puncher and SS extraordinaire, Chris Joice

After nabbing the mandatory, we rode down Club Gap (a first time that direction for me) and hopped on 276 up to FS 1206. We rode gravel over to Pilot Cove-Slate Rock and once again connected with Gordon/Emily and Scott/Todd.  It was a joy to ride and HAB with them up to the next CP.  Gordon talked almost the whole way; boy, did I feed off his good vibes!

Goodies from the CP volunteer

We stayed only long enough for Lisa to refill her bottles from the volunteer's BeFree water filter bottle.  The remainder of this trail was in the best shape ever!  So dry, so rideable, and so beautiful as it ran next to Slate Rock Creek.

Popping back out on FS 1206, we decided to not to go down Bradley Creek Trail, but to continue on the gravel over to FS 5015.  Why we had even thought about doing the trail I do not know, other than it appeared quicker on the map.  We were rewarded for the extra miles with Eric Nicoletti's grilled cheese stand at the intersection of 1206 and 5015.  Stephen Janes would be proud!  While I could not participate in the cheesy goodness, I did find an ice cold Dr. Pepper that went down the hatch mighty fine.

Lisa made inhaled her grilled cheese and then we made quick work of the gravel descent.  At the intersection FS 5015 and Bradley Creek Trail, there was a meeting of the minds as we came upon Gordon/Emily, Scott/Todd, and another pair.  We decided to go up Laurel and then do an out and back on Squirrel Gap to grab the CP.

But first, Lisa and I stopped to filter again.  This was the first time we used her BeFree water filter and I noticed hers did not flow near as fast as the volunteer's at the previous CP.  Needed some Popeye forearms to fill up my bottle.

I 💓 Smooshie!

That was the first time I had ridden Laurel in this direction.  The bottom half was not too bad, just a little laurel whacking on the shins and negotiating oncoming racers.  The upper half was a pretty steep HAB, to which my knee, now over 4 hours in, was beginning to complain. Lisa patiently waited for me on all the HAB's today, as I was a lot slower than the "Usain Bolt" of hike a bike. Although the pedal on Squirrel was only 2 miles to get the CP, it felt more like five, as it was all uphill.  It was here that I had my first "whine" out loud.  I sounded like a fussy 7 year old who was tired of walking with her Mom at the mall 😄.  It was short-lived, as I could only laugh at myself.  

Riding down Squirrel Gap was super fun and the fun continued on Mullinax.  We turned onto South Mills River and I could not believe how dry the trail was.  South Mills was like a highway!  We motored quickly over to the CP, grabbing our 4th and final one for the day. We continued on South Mills, crossing two nice bridges, and thinking how fast we were gonna go, heading to the finish.

Mullinax

We had ridden the first 3 miles of South Mills in just under 30 minutes.  And then as we continued left on South Mills at the intersection of Cantrell Creek, the adventure began!  Unbeknownst to us, we were entering Purgatory, the section of South Mills that you just don't go.  Never having ridden this section, you don't know what you don't know.  And so I say to all my cycling friends that are veterans of Pisgah, who never mentioned this "purgatory"  ... F*ck y'all!  

After cresting that short climb, we descended into hell!  And for the next 90 minutes it took us to cover that 4 miles, we battled thick laurel undergrowth that lashed our legs, crossed the river 12 times, of which 6 of those were waist deep and slick as snot, and rode/pushed through 6 bogs.  Oh, and negotiated no less than 30 downed trees.  Poor Lisa had to hear my sailor's mouth a few times.  

The 11th crossing of South Mills River

Despite how arduous this section was, it was amazingly beautiful.  With some massive trail love, this section could be outstanding!  I have no regrets making this choice; Lisa might beg to differ!  Now, I can say I have ridden ALL the trails in Pisgah ... yep, including Riverside and Vineyard Gap.  There ought to be a buckle for that!

The Forbidden Zone

Finally we made it to Wolf Ford.  My knee and I survived, although a downed tree did grab my foot and yank me down backwards, tweaking it some, with me exclaiming, "I am officially tired!"  Pisgah was determined to not let me go completely unscathed.

Filling up our bottles one last time, I struggled with Lisa's filter.  Fortunately a fellow Marji masochist, Richard, lent me his.  My forearms and hands thanked him.  I ate the last of my food, two gels, with 100 grams caffeine each.  Vroom! Vroom!  Back on the good portion of South Mills, we seemed to float up it to Buckhorn.  I couldn't believe how smooth and hard-packed it was!

Then down Clawhammer gravel and back up to Black on Maxwell gravel.  It was so nice to be able to keep on riding instead of the short HAB in year's past.   Once at the tippy top, it was 2 miles and and a 1300 foot drop down to the finish.  The trail was primo, but the caffeine burst I had the past hour was gone. The descent hurt.  My eyeballs were bouncing around in my head and my brain felt like it was being concussed. I had to slow down as I was getting dizzy ... weird.

We rolled across the finish line in 9 hours and 33 minutes.  Having ridden 52 miles with 8000 feet of climbing, I was exhausted but my soul was full.  

Thanks, Lisa, for an amazing day in the forest, and being patient during my struggles.  You are one helluva partner, and I look forward to our next adventure.

I am grateful for my healing.  I am grateful for being able to do what I love.  I am grateful for all my trail friends (and hope we still are Gordon and Emily, after that little bushwhack 😉). I am grateful that Eric continues to take pleasure in pushing us to our limits. I am grateful for my I-9 wheels who chewed up and spit out an unknown amount of sticks on the South Mills "forbidden section."  Lesser spokes woulda caved!  I am grateful for Chamois Butt'r coming to my taint's rescue after being submerged during all those river crossings.

Strong women up there!

Pisgah "ride all the trails" completion buckle

Sandlin's Shred Race Report

 

Sandlin's Shred is War Daddy's little brother.  Even though it is only 32 miles, it has 5000 feet of punchy, technical gain. While War Daddy is touted as the hardest bike race in Kentucky, Sandlin's Shred could easily be purported to be the second hardest.  Race director John Maggard, aka Trail_Sick, puts on a wonderful event, what with tons of schwag, raffles, food, and beer. I love love love the vibe of this grassroots event.  The number of registered racers has grown throughout the years, from a small group of 40 in 2019 to 115 for this edition.

It has been 3 weeks since my knee injury.  I had an MRI done 3 days ago, but would not know the results until the week after the race. My doctor was worried about a meniscal tear, while I was hoping for a Grade 1 medial collateral ligament tear. With a rapid improvement in pain over the past 10 days, I was hopeful I could at least ride, if not race, the shorter distance.

Although it poured rain the day before, I woke up to a warm 60 degrees and clear skies.  Both races incorporate pavement, gravel/dirt, and trail.  I can count on my fingers the number of gravel bikes that have attempted either race since its inception in 2019.  I think I saw two this morning ... poor bastards 😆.  I chose Ripley, my Trek SuperCaliber, with 2.3 Bontrager XR3 on the front and a 2.2 XR2 on the rear.  I was running SRAM AXS with a 32T chainring and a 10-52 cassette. At 22 pounds, I would take the 3.5 pound penalty over my gravel bike.

After Trevor's shotgun start (he shotgunned a beer), it was fairly neutral for the first two miles on pavement ... well, until the e-bikes started up the climb.  Then everyone began to hammer.  I tried, but at this point my engine was not warmed up, and I was nervous about how my knee might respond to the increased wattage.  The past 3 weeks had been easy spinning.  So I let them go, along with 5 women.

Towards the end of the climb, I reeled in two of the women as we turned onto gravel.  This 8 mile section was beautiful and the rains has settled the gravel/dirt and made it fast.  I could tell my fitness was off, as I struggled on the climbs.  Fortunately my knee stayed pain-free, even when I attempted to put more power down.  This made me VERY happy, as the past 3 weeks had me fighting off the depression demon.  

I managed to catch another woman at the top of the Rattlesnake Run climb.  From there is was some fun descending down Gilbert Creek Road (gravel as well).  It was here that I reeled in Sarah.  I passed her on the descent, but when I turned off the gravel onto a short section of flat pavement, she was right back on.  We shared pulls until we turned off onto a rocky double track road, which soon pitched up to the heavens ... the War Daddy climb!  With an average grade of 11%, it climbed 600 feet over a mile.  Sarah slowly pulled ahead, but then lost traction on the loose chunky rock, and began HAB'ing.  I was able to make a pass, at a snail's pace, but I was still pedaling.  I was bound not to get off and push, as my knee clearly did not like dismounting and HAB'ing. 

Sarah soon caught back up to me as we crested the climb. Over the next 5 miles we would leapfrog each other as she was strong on the climbs and I was faster on the descents.  Around mile 16, I was treated with a "new to 2023" section of single track.  Old school and hand-cut, I giggled with excitement as I rode this 1 mile section.  I also managed to pull away from Sarah. It was in great shape, save for a few muddy spots.  As it dipped down into a creek and then abruptly turned up on the other side, I respected my knee's wishes, got off and walked it.  I knew that any out of the saddle bursts of torque were off-limits.  

Popping out onto more gravel, I motored over to the aid station at mile 18.  The volunteers were super helpful.  I was in and out in a flash, after topping off my bottle and grabbing a Gu.  As I headed out of the aid station, I glanced back, half expecting to see Sarah, but did not.

Even though the course was well marked, when I came upon the mile section of gravel which you repeat on Sandlin's Shred, I momentarily lost confidence in my navigation.  Memories of my navigational error at Gravel World's last year made me doubt myself now.   So I stopped for a moment and zoomed my map out ... all was well.  

I started pedaling again and began picking the pace back up when my left leg cramped!  Holy cow, that hurt!  At that moment I definitely knew that my fitness had tanked because I NEVER cramp.  I also must have been pushing a little harder with my left leg than my right leg with the injured knee.  I shifted into granny and began to spin easy until it released.  "Meter your effort" became my new mantra.

Soon I hit the 6 mile section of single track, part of the Redbud moto trail system.  The rains had made it muddy and slick.  I was wishing for a dropper through some of the trickier descents.  The HAB's grew in distance and number compared to last year when it was dry.  My knee began to twinge with some pain during them.  I managed to figure out how to place the right foot as to minimize any torque on the knee.  I also wisely chose to walk a couple descents for fear of re-injury, although the walking was almost as scary.

After a bazillion mudholes, riding some, but skirting around most, I popped out onto the coal mine section.  Only 6 miles to go, but damn, that's a long 6 miles!  Felt more like 10! I was so tired but had to keep hammering.  Around each corner I was hoping to catch a glimpse of first place.  When that didn't happen, I was desperately hoping that the road would turn downward to the final descent to the finish line.  That never happened!  Like for a LONG time!  I finally lost my shit with about 2 to go and started cussing the damn mine!😄😄😄

At last, there she was ... the rutted out, baby-head rocks galore gravel road!  At this point, I lost all concern with my knee and just let Ripley eat this descent like a lab "hoovering" up chow!  I rolled across the finish line in 3:11.  My goal had been 3 hours, but I will gladly take the additional 11 minutes, because today was a huge success. Today my fitness hurt more than my knee, but that is something that can be improved.  

And then I was told that I had won!  The woman who was ahead of me was in the e-bike category, so yea me!  Icing on the cake!

There was plenty of food and drink at the finish line, as well as a bike wash, so I cleaned up and then refueled while waiting the arrival of Dave and John, who raced the War Daddy.  I must say, it was nice to just sit, relax, and chat amongst the Shredders for a few hours.  I had briefly thought that I could have raced the big one, but realized, while icing the knee, that I had made the right decision.  I hated not being able to defend the helmet, but there's always next year!

Both John and Dave had a good race, with John getting a few bonus miles missing a turn.  Later that evening, there was an after party at Wendover B&B.  The race director's family and friends brought home-cooked food and there was plenty of beer and moonshine for those that wanted to get saucy!  After the meal, we all gathered around the fire and listened to guitar music, under a moonlit sky.  Now THIS is what I call a well run small town big country event.  Kentucky gravel is no joke!

Tips by Trevor:  how to read a GPS track

Love my Rescue Racing team mates!

Moonshine to the winners!

Oak Mountain Adventure Race

 

A month ago Lisa asked me to do this adventure race, as her male team mate was out with an injury. This was supposed to be a shakedown for her big adventure in Arkansas April 3-8, the Expedition Ozark. This would be a first for me and I am not gonna lie; I was definitely nervous.  Lisa had been putting in a crap ton of training for Expedition Ozark; I was worried that I might have a hard time hanging onto her pace. But fuck it! As Robert Browning so wonderfully said it, "A man's reach should exceed his grasp." (Funny, but this would literally come into play during the second trek).

Storms rolled through the night before, and the ground was wet as we arrived at the venue.  But the forecast was near perfect: sunny skies and 57-78 degrees. This AR had a 10 hour cut off. 48 teams (1-4 people) were signed up. There was 1 paddle, 2 treks, and 2 bikes.  Maps and CP's (a total of 32) were handed out at 6 am, which gave Lisa 2 hours to plot our course.  She pulled out her box of Sharpies (like a kid with a 32 count Crayon box) and made short work of it.  There were two TA's (transition areas).  TA 1 was the Start/Finish area, from which we could choose paddle or the first trekking section. She decided to have us do the paddle section first (6 CP's) because she figured more teams would do the trek first.  And she potentially did not want having a bunch of teams "up her butt" or "bird-dogging" us.

The lake was like glass as we paddled to our first checkpoint next to the spillway which was at the opposite end of the lake.  All the paddle CP's were on land, so we would have to exit the canoe each time. The cool breeze felt good against my cheeks as we made our way. We (and I only say "we" as I should have said something about the spillway potentially being slippery, but I kept my mouth shut ... being the rookie) decided to land the canoe on the concrete that sloped 30 degrees into the water.  Big mistake!  I got out ok, but the boat started to drift backwards as Lisa was attempting to get out.  My foot as well as hers hit the underwater portion of the concrete that was covered in algae and we both slowly slid down into the lake.  We silently struggled as other canoes caught up to us, saw our predicament, and exited the water elsewhere.  We somehow managed to get back up on the spillway, but it cost us a minute or two.  

Fortunately we nailed the remaining 6 CP's with ease and finished the 4 mile paddle in just over an hour. Hopefully that would be the worst of our mistakes for today. Before we went back to TA #1 (which was essentially our vehicles), we ran and grabbed CP #1 on the trek, since it wasn't far from the canoe take out.  Then we ran back to our vehicles and changed out our paddling shoes to dry running shoes. This first trek which included 6 CP's took less than 50 minutes and covered 3 1/2 miles. None of the CP's were directly on a trail.  Here is where I saw Lisa shine!  Navigating on the fly, bushwhacking off trail to find the CP's, she made not one mistake!  I was amazed.  It was like the checkpoints were chum and she was a tiger shark, coming in for the kill! Yep, that is her AR spirit animal.  I would say mine is the sheep:  pretty sure footed running up draws and scrambling up and over ridgelines as well as being a great follower 😆😆😆.

Arriving back at our vehicles, we changed into our cycling gear. Since we would not be coming back to TA #1 until the finish, I secured my Hoka's to my Salomon running hydration vest.  They fit perfectly in the trekking pole loops.  

The first bike section was pretty straight forward.  We rode up the paved Peavine Falls Road, grabbing two CP's along the way. I was on the struggle bus up this climb, as my running legs and cycling legs were not on the same page.  This biking portion was 5 miles long and took about 35 minutes. TA #2 was at the top of the mountain.   Here we ditched the bikes and put on our running shoes.  I thought I was transitioning pretty fast, but Lisa was already moving out on the second trek as I was stuffing my face with a PayDay and trying to chase it down with water.  She would give Clark Kent a run for his money in the transition time department.

This second trek was longer and more laborious and the ascents/descents were long and steep. There were 9 CP's and we hit them in this order:  15, 16, 17, 19, 20, 21, 22, 18, and 23. Checkpoint #17 was the most difficult as it was the furthest off trail and was at the bottom of a tiny waterfall.  You definitely had to be on your A game to find this one.  Lisa rose to the occasion and skillfully got us there with no meandering.

So impressed with my teamy!

The next CP had us bushwhacking straight up and over the mountain, gaining 500 feet in 1/2 mile.  All the bear crawls I have done at my local gym finally paid off.  We grabbed one on the ridge then scrambled down the other side to grab another, then up and over another ridge to get another.  They all seemed to involve bushwhacking with lots of ascent/descent.  My quads, calves, and achilles were put through the ringer.  

CP #19

Then came the checkpoint at Peavine Falls.  There was a trail down to the base of the falls and let me tell you; it was pretty treacherous and involved 3 points of contact. You definitely did not want to roll an ankle or trip over your feet because there was not a railing or fence to catch you from plummeting 20 yards straight down.  The kicker was the placement of the CP.  Remember the previous words of Robert Browning ...

"A man's reach should exceed his grasp."

Lisa was tippy toe ballerina style to punch the card, ripping it in the process.  That ledge she was on was super slick.  I had to enlist the help of  a tall dude enjoying a Saturday with his family at the falls to help get Lisa back down off that ledge! 

Seven miles and 2 hours 20 minutes later and we were back at TA 2.  I had emptied my hydration bladder 45 minutes prior so that ice cold Coke was a life saver.  While changing back to bike shoes, getting more water and refueling, we discovered that we were the first ones back from the trek. That was encouraging! I gulped down 2 gels (90 mg caffeine each), because I knew the last biking section was gonna get rowdy.  I could tell Lisa was going in for the kill!

It felt so good to be back on the bike.  I got to ride the Thunder and Slingshot for the first time. Checkpoint 25 we hit from two different angles.  Lisa was "on the money" the first time we started bushwhacking down to it; we just did not go far enough.  Approaching it from a further bit down the bike trail involved a butt slide down (had to be 45 degrees steep) and a claw your way back to the top.  

I still don't know how Lisa managed to know exactly when to get off the trail and begin bushwhacking and looking for the three dimensional orange and white framed flags.  That lady has a gift for looking at the map and reading the terrain ... while riding her bike.  Un-f'ing-believable.  

Some of these were hiding behind trees or rocks.

Other than CP 25, she was only one spur off CP 27.  Towards the end of the bike section, we saw the second place team several times.  It was getting down to the wire.  Lisa pulled off the coup de grace when we used a horse trail and several bushwhacks by bike to secure the final 3 CP's.

The last bike section was 15 miles and took us 2 1/2 hours. We hit the finish in a final time of 7 hours 34 minutes, clearing the course with all 32 checkpoints.  Total mileage was 35 miles with 5000 feet of climbing (3000 feet ascent/descent was the 2 trekking portions). 

That was 55 minutes faster than the predicted time of 8 1/2 hours.  My first AR experience and we were first overall!  

Thanks Lisa for believing in me ... and allowing me to get those last punches in.  I was so nervous I would not punch it right or punch the wrong CP or drop the punch card.  Thank you baby Jesus for no mistakes on my part.

No doubt it was hard for me, so I can only imagine the pressure that was upon Lisa, being the ONLY navigator on the team.  She was smooth as silk.  She only showed the slightest frustration during CP 25 and only for a minute.  She was able to redirect quickly and efficiently and we lost minimal time there.  I have no doubt, barring any misfortune, Team Warrior is going to perform well at Expedition Ozark.  I cannot wait to watch the Live Feed.

As for me, I absolutely love this kind of racing.  It reminds me of being a kid and adventuring through our farm and nearby farms with my brothers.  Back in the days when trespassing wasn't a big deal.  We would dress up in camo, pack a sandwich, and follow creeks and pretend we were "living off the land."  At least until we started getting hungry again and then head back home.

If I am going to continue with this AR thing, I feel the need to at least learn to read maps better.  The Master Men's winner was 74 years old, so that gives me twenty years ... right?