I’ve become pretty interested in “gravel grinders” or “gravel centuries”.  I haven’t done one  yet, but soon.  I built this bike for that purpose and end.  I am pretty happy with it.  It is a great fit for me, a comfortable ride, and performs as good or better than I could have hoped.  Gravel Grinder News is a good place to go for information about these events.  So is Guitar Ted’s site.

There are a couple things unique about the bike.  The gearing set up is a little unconventional.  My front sprockets are 46 and 30 tooth.  What I might call a “touring compact”.  They are mounted on a triple crank, with a bashguard on the outermost ring.  I am a fan of the compact crank idea, and I think it works well with this bike.  I found a triple derailleur shifted smoother than a double, even though I am only using two rings.  Shifting from the 30 to the 46 is very quick and smooth, and vice versa.  The larger 46 is ramped and pinned.  I am using a Campagnolo “Racing T” on the front.  (I love how you can easily remove a campy front derailleur from it’s clamp, and install it on another clamp in minutes)   The rear shifting is your garden variety Shimano 9 speed, 105.

Another unique feature perhaps worth mentioning is the handlebars.  The last item I was waiting for, Origin 8 Gary Bars, were delayed by a backorder or some such thing.  Frustrated that I couldn’t start building the bike, one early morning I decided to try and bend my own.  Aluminum is bent when rims and handlebars are first made, right?  So why can’t you bend some aluminum bars a little more, the reasoning went.  So, with the help of a wood jawed vise, and some brute force, I bent an old SR bar into the form I was looking for.  No, the aluminum did not fatigue and crack.  No, the bars did not catastrophically fail on the first ride, or second, third, fourth…  I am really pleased with them.  I would do it again.

I will write about this bike with some more detail in the My Bikes section.

Knowing that I was trying to lose some weight to avoid eating dog food, Robby was kind enough to bring breakfast:

Breakfast of Champions... Sumo Champions, that is.

Robby, and Adam had taken a day off from work to ride with us.   Unfortunately, Bob Jenkins was unable to fake an illness find anyone to fill in for him, so he had to miss perhaps the best group ride in history.  Aaron, had to work later in the day, so he was going to ride the first half of the ride with us.  Oh, and he was kickin’ it old school on this:

Although it was a bit chilli at the start of our ride, the weather was beautiful… Especially for mid-February.  We rolled out on the Katy Trail under overcast skies.  Casey was pretty excited to ride the Katy Trail which seemed odd to us.  I guess we just take it for granted since it’s in our back yard and we ride it all the time.

Bridge on the Katy Trail

We soon hopped on some gravel, and I’ll be honest.  I just wasn’t really feeling it.  My legs felt dead, and I felt weak.  Hoping I just needed to spin my legs out a little to warm up, I kept riding.

It wasn’t long before we passed the exact spot where we found Falcor two years ago.  And then we rode a monster hill.  Well, I should say that everyone but me rode the hill.  I got about halfway up when I had to get off the bike and walk.  I just had nothing in my legs.

When I finally caught up to the other guys, I told them I might just turn around.  I didn’t want to slow them down.  They talked me into at least continuing until we reached the gas station in New Bloomfield at roughly mile 24 where I could ride back with Aaron if I needed to.  I agreed, and after downing a Honey Stinger Waffle, a Foosh Caffeinated Mint, and half a bottle of my go-go juice, I started to feel a little better.  After another 15 minutes or so, my legs started coming back.  I’m not sure if I was run-down from being in a caloric deficit or if it was just one of those mornings.  I was just thankful that I was back to full-strength.

After more gravel followed by a bit of pavement, we soon found ourselves in the booming city of New Bloomfield.  This was just under the halfway mark, and it was a planned rest/refuel stop.  It was also the point at which Aaron had to leave us so he could make it back to work in time.  Since I was feeling much better, I decided to keep riding.

We got some odd looks here.

After saying good-bye to Aaron, we bought some snacks and beverages.  We talked about how much fun we were having and how Bob was totally missing the best ride ever.  Since Bob was at work instead of having fun, and since he was also trying to lose weight to avoid eating a can of ALPO, we decided the right thing to do would be to send him a pizza.

Look at Robby's face. We were laughing our asses off.

We ended up ordering him a Large “All the Meats” Pizza from Papa John’s and had it delivered to his workplace.  They wouldn’t let me leave a tip over the phone, but they said that I could just add the tip on the receipt.  I was a little worried that Bob would leave the delivery person a 50 dollar tip, but it was a risk I was willing to take.

With some food in our bellies and our water bottles filled up, we headed back out for more sweet, sweet gravel.  The sun broke through the clouds, and the temperature neared 60 degrees.

Part of the ride had some very fresh, loose gravel.  It’s always cool to ride some virgin gravel, but it makes it much more difficult to ride since it is so rough.  Now, when I say it was fresh, I mean it was still being smoothed out as we were riding.  Seriously.

We kept riding, talking, laughing, and waiting to hear from Bob after he received his free lunch.  The anticipation was killing us.

**What do you think he’ll say to the delivery person?  How many slices do you think he’ll eat?  He’ll either eat all of it out of spite, or he’ll give it away and stay strong.  Man, I can’t wait to hear his reaction!**

Finally, after what seemed like forever, I received a text message from Bob.  Here is how it went down:

Thankfully, Bob “only” gave the driver a $5 tip.  It was more than I would have normally left, but it was worth every penny.  We laughed our asses off again.  Later he said he was pretty confused when the delivery girl showed up asking for Bob.  When he heard that I had already paid for it, he figured it out.  And then he ate half of the pizza.  In all honesty, though, I felt kind of bad for sending the pizza.  It was hilarious, but we really did miss Bob.  It’s just not the same without that guy.  I can’t quit you, Bob Jenkins!

Anyway…  Shortly after getting the text from Bob, we rolled into Tebbetts, MO.  The Turner Katy Trail Shelter is there, and it’s a really cool place where Katy Trail riders can stay.  Unfortunately it was closed, so we didn’t get to check it out.  We took a short break, ate some food, and then headed back out onto the gravel flats near the Missouri River.

Even though this was still fun to ride, it was definitely the worst part of the ride.  The wind was simply ridiculous as it always is when I ride the gravel flats.  It was in our faces the entire 15 miles or so back to the cars.

The Gravel Flats

At one point, we passed some big mounds of dirt where some kids were four-wheeling.  Casey was literally almost run over by a four-wheeler, and in the process of trying not to die, he ran into Robby Brown.  I’m not sure how Robby, who is basically half the size of Casey, didn’t crash, but he somehow managed to stay on his bike.

Now, it could have been an honest mistake.  The kid may not have seen us coming.  I could have forgiven that, but then the kid turned his four-wheeler around and sprayed Casey and Robby with dirt as he pealed out.  This was inexcusable.  In my younger days, there would have been a physical altercation.  But these were just stupid teenagers who had no idea how close they came to being beaten to death.  Remember, Casey is an MMA figher.  Don’t believe me?  Here’s a video of one of his fights (and yes I get a little carried away with the yelling).

It could have been a much more entertaining story, but we did the mature (and less fun) thing and just rode away.

Right after this was taken, Casey was nearly run over by a four-wheeler, and Robby was nearly run over by Casey. I'm not sure which would have been worse.

Shortly after this, Casey and Robby dropped Adam and me pretty quickly.  In our defense, they had gears while we were on single speeds.  I doubt I could have kept up anyway, though.  The wind was just killing me.  Adam and I kept looking at each other in disbelief of how strong the wind was.  It was perfect training for the Dirty Kanza 200.

This was the last time we saw Robby and Casey until the end of the ride.

I really can’t tell you how great this ride was.  The weather was perfect, I got to ride with some friends, I got to ride with my brother which is a rarity, and the scenery was simply beautiful.  Join us on the next ride, wont’ you?

Even though photos never do justice to how cool it really is to be out there, I’ll leave you with a few (and there is a video coming soon, too):

]]> http://super-kate.com/2012/03/12/team-virtus-gravel-grinder/ Mon, 12 Mar 2012 00:24:31 +0000 Kate http://super-kate.com/2012/03/12/team-virtus-gravel-grinder/ My being a big quitter is paying big dividends already. Under my Double Chubb training plan, I was scheduled to run 20 miles yesterday; but quitting left me free to join in on a Team Virtus gravel grinder. Instead of the illicit cheater thrill of last weekend’s trip to Middlefork, I left my house at 5:15 a.m. on Saturday feeling like a teacher student on the first day of summer vacation: free.

Yeah, it was stupid early.  Unlike the local Team Godzilla (my tri club) training events, this ride required travel time. We were meeting at 7:30 in Mokane, MO, which is a little over 2 hours from my house. Since I loaded up the night before, I was able to “sleep in” til about 4:20 and was dressed, braided, breakfasted, and everything else in time to leave at 5:15. The uneventful drive was marred only by the fact that I spent the last 45 minutes wishing desperately for a convenient bathroom (and in the last stretch I would’ve settled for the shoulder of the road…had there been one).

Luckily I made it to the trailhead without soiling my chamois, and once I finished my sprint to the bathroom I unloaded my bike and checked out the group. Besides me, there were four other Team Virtus members: Bob, Luke, Robby, and Adam. Friends of TV Justin, Jim, and Tony were also there for the ride, and Travis and his friend Chris met us further down the road after dealing with some car issues.

Photo note: assume all pictures are by Luke Lamb (AKA Capt. Awesome) because he’s far better at taking pictures on the bike than I am.

L-r: Justin, Adam, Bob, Robby, me, Tony, Jim

I stood out for a couple reasons. I was the only girl, and I was riding the only mountain bike in a sea of cross bikes. The bike was a distinct disadvantage. I wasn’t worried for myself bc I have vast back-of-the-pack experience, but I was concerned about slowing the guys down too much. I’m ok with riding on my own if necessary, but seeing as I hadn’t bothered to print off the copy of the route Bob had emailed, that wasn’t going to work.

I felt pretty good as we took off up the first hill…only to pause halfway up as we realized we weren’t sure where our first turn was. Bob, our route planner, was blamed for the initial navigational fail and went off in search of the elusive 3rd St, while a couple of guys scouted in another direction and Luke, Adam, and I waited for them to get it figured out.

The smart ones

3rd St. located, we regrouped and headed off (again). The temperature started off in the mid-30′s, and I might have been a little chilly had Bob not thoughtfully provided some climbs. Luke hung back with me for a while, and Adam was feeling the effects of an evening out and 3:30 bedtime, so I had company. 

On the way (again)

I had a great January of mountain biking, and then I was off my bike until last weekend’s trip to Middlefork.  We had 53 miles planned, and it wouldn’t be honest to say I felt confident about riding strong the whole time.  That’s more miles than I’ve ridden since last October’s private half ironman, plus by far the longest distance I’ve ever ridden on gravel.  Several of the guys, on the other hand, are in training for June’s Dirty Kanza, a 200-mile gravel road race.  I felt good early on, but I was also pretty relieved to round a corner and see Bob changing his tire.

Checking the tire

I took the opportunity to dig some GU Chomps out of my pack.  It wasn’t easy to get them on my own, hence the calisthenics.

Me, Adam, Robby

Tony, Justin, Jim

As you can see from the pictures, it was an absolutely beautiful day, and we rode through some neat areas. 

Robby’s fast, so I’m not sure how I got this close to him.  He must have stopped for a nap or something.

Jim, Bob, Justin

We’d been riding for a while when we came to this ridiculous hill.  All of the guys seemed to fly right up it (a couple of them on singlespeeds, no less), while I trudged up in my lowest gear.  Honestly, I really wanted to get off my bike and walk up the hill, but it was so steep that I was afraid to stop pedaling to put a foot down.  I cursed my way up until finally I made it up to the top, where Tony told me, “Kate, you’re one of the toughest girls I’ve met.”

Tony watching me survive the hill.

Now, if he hung out with the women I do, I wouldn’t even be on his top three list of toughest girls, but it was still a great compliment.  This is also the point where Travis and Chris met up with us, but I was too oxygen deprived at the point to realize it.

I had forgotten to turn on my Garmin when we started, and then in the process of doing so on the ride I managed to lock it up, so I never had a clue how far we had gone or had to go.  It’s probably a good thing; I’d have fixated on the numbers, but instead I just rode along in happy ignorance.  One thing I did remember was that there was a gas station about 24 miles in where we’d planned to get some food.

Luke, Adam, Justin, and Tony waiting for lunch.

I had made sure to have cash so I could grab food along the way; unfortunately, I had forgotten to bring it on the bike.  Oops.  Big thanks to Luke for making sure I didn’t starve.  I thoroughly enjoyed my pulled pork, despite the snickers when I ordered it…one of the costs of hanging out with a group of boys.

Fine dining…this picture is funny in light of this post.

After eating I stopped to use the bathroom, thinking to myself that the guys would probably take off while I was in there.  Sure enough, I came out and the lunch table was empty.  When I got outside, though, they were all still there…and we had to wait a while longer for Adam.

Back on the road again.  While my mountain bike seat is vastly more comfortable than my road bike’s, I had realized early on that a big part of that stems from the fact that I used my mountain bike primarily on singletrack and am therefore off the seat a lot.  Contrast that with a gravel ride, where I was occasionally off the seat on a hill but mostly planted right on it.  Even with a liberal coating of chamois cream, my butt was beginning to feel like I was wearing sandpaper panties. 

My legs felt surprisingly good, but my back really hurt.  I think it was mostly from my pack.  The more I wear that one, the more I like my adventure racing pack.  When I got home I found a big bruised lump on my back from I guess where the bladder tube connected to the bladder.  That’s easily enough fixed by turning the bladder a different way in the bag, though.  Note to self for next time…
Most of the group was way ahead of me by the time that we got to another long climb.  Just as I neared the base of it, I dropped my chain.  Awesome timing.  I got it back on by myself with no problems, but not before Luke and Adam had turned around to check on me.  That left them riding the hill twice. 

Smiling for the camera, glad to be outside, and really glad we were stopping while Jim fixed his flat tire.

Starting off from a regroup

Part of the route took us past a nuclear power plant.  I’d never been that close to one, so it was pretty cool to see.  I got a chance here to catch up with Travis, who I hadn’t seen since the Berryman ride.

A ways past the nuclear plant, we regrouped again and hopped onto the Katy Trail for a stretch. Tony took off at this point; I think he had to pick up his son or something, and it was a straight shot down the trail to our parking lot.

Waiting while Travis fixes his cleat

Katy Trail

We had a couple of stops along the trail to check for our turn, and I took advantage of one of the stops to shed a layer.  It had really warmed up, almost 70 I think, and the long sleeves were killing me.  I didn’t manage it without comment, but my sports bra is so unrevealing that the only reason I even turned around to change was because there’s less fat on my back than front.

Our eventual turn was within sight of the trailhead where we’d parked, and while a couple of the guys talked on the phone to their wives, I had a minor war with myself.  I’m sore, I’m tired, the car is right there VS the ride isn’t over, you’re going to regret it if you quit now, don’t be such a baby.  Thankfully, side B won the arguement, and both my personalities and I followed the guys off the smooth trail and back onto the gravel roads.

Justin, me, Adam

I don’t remember a lot from the end of the ride.  I got to ride with and talk with Adam, who despite having been out until 3:30 in the morning, rode circles around me, and I spent a lot of time just appreciating the amazing day and the great group I got to hang out with.  When Bob said that we only had a couple of miles left, I felt like I was home free.  And then, down the road, I saw it.  I swear, it looked like a wall, not a hill.  Adam said, “I wasn’t expecting that,” and it was nothing that I wasn’t thinking, though in my thoughts it sounded more like “Fuuuuu**”.

By the time I got to the base of the hill, I was already in my lowest gear and watching the guys cruise up like it was nothing.  My little voice was telling me to just get off and walk, but I was so close to the end of the ride without walking anything.  About halfway up the hill, Chris slid on gravel and had to put down his foot and push. I tried telling myself, Hey, you can ride right past him, won’t that be fun, but apparently what my self heard was Look, now you can walk, too, because a few pedal strokes later I gave up.  It was a little frustrating to get that close to the end and walk.

There was one more small hill, and then we cruised back the way we’d come and into the trailhead parking lot.  Some of us grabbed a quick lunch (re-lunch, I guess) at the store there in Mokane and then headed back to our respective homes.  What a great day.  Big thanks to the guys for planning the day and letting me come along.  Chasing stronger, faster people is only going to make me a better rider, and with my built-in mountain bike excuse, it didn’t even bruise my ego.

Shitty weather will not be grounds for ride cancellation. The only thing stopping me will be the Hams Prarie gas station…their sandwiches are delicious.

http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/view/73295094

Don’t forget dog-spray and gummi bears…and your ipod. and chamois butter. and gummi bears.

Since Wednesday is supposed to be even better weather, we’re riding again to prepare for Dirty Kanza and Cedar Cross.  Adam and Robby actually took a day off, and Casey and I are meeting them for a 50+ mile ride with some decent climbs.  Here is the route we’re planning on doing if all goes well.  Bob couldn’t fake being sick get someone to cover his shift for him, so he’ll miss out on the most bad-ass ride ever.  It’s not like a 50 mile ride would help him avoid eating dog food, right?

They came!

A few weeks ago I mentioned on the Shawnee Mountain Bike Association website that I intended to do a gravel road ride in some of the hillier areas of the Shawnee National Forest.  I thought there might be one or two people there who were interested.  I was wrong, there were 23 people who were interested. 

I planned out a 62 mile ride and served as tour guide for the ride, which meant that many folks were held back, back while just a few might have been pressed a bit, but fortunately the ride went well.  There no accidents, only a couple small mechanicals, which is really awesome because I didn’t even expect the ride to take place.

This was one of the strongest groups I've ever rode with, lots of racers and serious riders.

The rain went south of us and kept the Dirty South from becoming the Muddy South.

All week-long I’ve been watching the weather report for today’s ride deteriorate.  What started as a beautiful day in the mid 50s became a snowy morning and rainy day in the low 40s.  Luckily the front broke further south and we missed the rain, the sun popped out a bit and the temperature got up around 45.  The only real negative aspect was the wind which was about 15 mph and blowing from the North West. 

When I arrived at the Mitchellville County Store for the start of the ride I was relieved to see I wasn’t going to be on my own, but even more surprised to see the number of vehicles.  We left out with 17 people and had 5 more joining in at the halfway point.  I had cue sheets but many of the roads were unmarked so they wouldn’t be easy to follow so everyone had to follow my lead which was more than a little stressful.  Especially when trying to figure out what kind of pace a pack of 17 riders on anything from a pure road bike to pure mountain bike want to ride.  Sadly I misjudged the pace in the first few miles a couple of riders got separated from the pack.  We waited what felt like a long time for them and decided they had turned back, but they hadn’t and followed the route on their own. 

The standard pre ride pose.

There were no other mishaps on the ride, only a couple minor mechanicals and nothing that really held us up.  I was continually told how nice the route was, and especially how challenging it was.  I tried to throw in as many big climbs as I could and the ride had over 5000 feet of climbing.  Others asked where all the cars were, the fact is Sunday morning on the backroads in Southeastern Illinois you can ride hours without seeing a car. 

The coolest bike on the ride by far.

heading down from High Knob

What made this route novel was the inclusion of several gravel road sections and a short trail section.  Many riders were unsure of what bike to ride, the most popular choice was a cross bike with slightly knobbed tires, but we had mountain bikes with knobbies and road bikes with slicks.  One rider brought a full-blown carbon fiber road bike with high-end components and 24c tires.  I expected him to flat several times but he never did and never seemed to have any problems.  Probably the perfect bike for this ride would have been a road bike with 28c road tires.  I rode my touring bike with 30c cross tires.  The bike handles the gravel and rougher sections with no problems but I could really feel the weight and resistance on the road.   

I began feeling the ride about 30 miles in when my hamstrings tightened up and threatened to cramp.  I had to back off and let the other riders go, even though I had plenty of energy and didn’t really feel bad.  At the halfway point my food consisted of a coke and a package of cookies.  I probably should have drunk a Gatorade and ate something salty because as I began to climb Williams Hill I had to dial way back or face cramping hamstrings. 

Post ride picture, I'm just about dead.

For the last 20 miles I had tight slightly painful hamstrings and every time I had to put power in the pedals for climbing I would begin to cramp.  I wanted to try to hammer the last hill, Jenny Ridge since it’s very short and very steep it suits me, but halfway up I had to dismount and rest my legs, they completely locked up.  I think I probably didn’t drink enough, but I’ve never done a ride this hard this early in the season, so that could be it.  Either way I’ve been riding for years and only suffered cramps a few times.  Time to start getting serious about fixing this problem. 

In conclusion the Dirty South 100K was a big success, I think everyone had a good time and got some good early season training, there’s talk of making this an annual event with a race category.  It looks like I may have started something.

Unfortunately, I had to be at work by 11:30, so we had to meet fairly early at 7:oo AM.  When my alarm went off, I was pissed at the alarm clock.  Then I looked outside to realize the weather man lied.  Instead of 45 degrees and partly cloudy, it was completely overcast with a light mist, temps hovering around 35, and lots of nasty wind.  I was pissed at the weather man.  All I wanted to do was go back to bed.  Then I remembered that Bob, Robby, and Adam agreed to meet me.  I was pissed at the idiot that suggested this ride.  Wait… That was me.  What was I thinking?

If I wasn’t meeting up with my team, there’s no way I would have gotten this ride in.  So I dragged my chubby buttocki out of bed, loaded up my bike and met the fellas at the Katy Trail Pavilion/Commuter Lot.

It looks like Robby is giving us a glowing middle finger as Bob just laughs.

Adam was fired for refusing to pose for the group photo above.

We headed out on a mile or two of pavement before we would hit the gravel.  There was a really strong headwind, and the light mist made it really cold.  I was really wishing I was not on my bike at that moment.

See the small droplets? Yeah. They were COLD!

We soon found ourselves on the gravel, and I started to warm up.  We talked, joked, laughed, and made fun of Adam.  I was finally glad that I was on my bike with my pals.

It wasn’t too long before we came up on some heavy machinery.  It’s a Virtus rule that Adam must pretend to drive any type of tractor/heavy machinery that we find.  Bob and I yelled ahead for Adam to come pose for a photo, but he and Robby pretended not to hear us.  So Adam was once again fired from the team.  Bob and I decided to take some photos anyway.

That ain't Adam. That's me wondering where the hell Adam is.

Now that's a sweet photo, huh?

While we waited for Robby and Adam to realize that we weren’t behind them, Bob decided to do some serious planking.  Check it out:

Picture Perfect Planking Practice

Eventually, Adam and Robby came back to see why we weren’t right behind them.  Adam then begrudgingly posed for the photo that should have already happened.

Adam back where he belongs.

It wasn’t long before we were back on the gravel riding back into the vicious wind.  We had all warmed up by now, and we were having fun.  The wind sucked, but it was good training for Dirty Kanza.  Anytime there was a frozen puddle, Bob tempted fate by riding as fast as he could through the middle of it.  I kept waiting for the ice to break and reveal a deep ditch, sending Bob flying through the air to fall flat on his face.  Sadly, I was disappointed every time.

He never crashed. Dang it!

The ride was great, the wind was harsh, and the miles were flying by.  I don’t need to go into great detail, so I’ll just share a few photos with you…

Riding Across the Haunted Bridge

Serious "Hill" Training

Bob, protect that MELON!

Bob ripped his new pants and dropped his chain, so we had to wait for him.

Still waiting for Bob...

And still waiting for Bob...

After 35 minutes… Okay, it was only a minute or so, we hopped back on our bikes.  We soon found ourselves back at Highway 94 after 10 miles of riding.  This is where Bob had to leave us because he wanted to stay employed.  As we said our good byes and shed a tear or two, we noticed a truck coming by salting the road.  Seriously.  I guess the weather man was WAY off.

What?!?!? I told you it was cold.

Bob decided to hop on the Katy Trail to hustle back to his truck so he wouldn’t be late for work.  However, there was a deep ditch with a lot of water in it preventing Bob from crossing.  As Bob put it, “There’s an effing moat there!”  So he had to ride pavement for just a bit before hopping on the Katy.

Bob hustling back to the pavement.

Robby, Adam, and I made our way on the Katy Trail into Tebbetts, MO.  We then hopped back on the gravel to make our way back to the commuter lot and our vehicles.  There was one stretch of gravel where the wind was absolutely sucking the life out of my legs.  Fortunately, we decided to stop for a snack break by the Missouri River at about the 20 mile mark.

Adam tries to buy his way back onto the team by sharing a dee-lish Honey Singer

It was a cool spot for a break. The only thing missing was Bob. Where was he?

Before we got too cold by the river, we started on our way again.  We were feeling pretty good, and  with the wind finally at our backs, we were once again making good time.  There was plenty of cool sites to hold our attention.  Like this little creek crossing:

Robby points out the creek with his Lobster-gloved hand.

It wasn’t long before we were back on the Katy Trail for a short stretch before getting back on the gravel.  All was going great, and I was going to be done with plenty of time to make it to work on time.  Until we got about a half a mile from the Haunted Bridge where I got a flat tire.  Bob is usually the one to get flat tires, so I normally don’t have to worry about it.  With him gone, however, I guess I had to take one for the team.  Fortunately I always carry an extra tube, and Adam had CO2 for me (again, he was trying to buy his way back onto the team).

Bummer!

I quickly had a new tube in place, and was ready to roll.  But then I heard a dreadful hissing sound.  Damn it!  I guess I had a bad tube, or I missed something in the tire that had punctured my new tube.  Robby and Adam were on cross bikes, so their tubes wouldn’t help me.  With about 7 miles left, I was going to have to walk my bike back and risk being late for work.  Robby volunteered to haul ass back to the parking lot and come back with my van, and Adam volunteered to walk with me.

Fortunately, it must have been too cold for the ghost to bother us as we walked across the haunted bridge.

I was glad to have Adam’s company on the walk.  Between that and letting me use his CO2, I guess he’s back on the team.  Now, don’t worry.  It won’t be long until he does something Adam-like and winds up fired again, I assure you.

After walking just under 2 miles and 35 minutes later, Robby arrived with my van.

Robby to the rescue!

I loaded up my bike and climbed into the warm van.  Adam decided to ride the last few miles back to his car.  I would have liked to stay with Adam, but I was running short on time.  I had to get going, so Robby and I drove back to the commuter lot.

It was a great ride with great friends.  On more than one occasion, my mind wandered to Casey.  I’m VERY fortunate to have my friends and teammates so close.  It’s so much easier to train and push yourself when you can do it with your team.  Casey, however, has yet to find a group of like-minded people to train with in NY.  It’s gotta be tough to train for Dirty Kanza by yourself.  If anyone can do it, though, it’s Casey.  When he wraps his brain around something, he’s a very determined dude.  I guess I just wished Casey could be here to train with us.

Anyway… What was supposed to be a 32 mile ride, ended up being a 24.5 mile ride, a 1.9 mile hike-a-bike, and about a 6 mile car ride for me.  The route was relatively flat, but with the wind and the rough gravel, it’s an ass kicker.

Thanks to Bob, Robby, and Adam for riding with me.  And thanks to Robby and Adam for helping me out at the end.  It was a great day.

And by the way, I made it to work in plenty of time.  Bob, however, was just a few minutes late for his job.

So, there you have it.  Our first group training ride for Dirty Kanza is in the books.  Our next scheduled group ride is the Super Century on February 5th.  Wanna join us?  And we’ll keep you posted if we plan another ride before that.  Until then, Buh-Bye.

]]> http://team-virtus.com/2012/01/15/the-cedar-cross-is-picking-up-some-sponsors/ Mon, 16 Jan 2012 01:37:54 +0000 Bob Jenkins http://team-virtus.com/2012/01/15/the-cedar-cross-is-picking-up-some-sponsors/ Greetings, Virtusites!!! As I slowly recover from my Hoosier Daddies-induced hangover, (Damn that was fun!), I realize it’s been longer than 5 minutes since I mentioned the Cedar Cross. As you all know by now, we are bringing you 2 non-races this year: The Cedar Cross and….the CAC.

**I will now pause for ten seconds while everyone says “The CAC” out loud and laughs among themselves.**

When you put a race together hoping for 5-10 riders, it’s easy to promise free beer and food at the finish line. But when 60+ people register… you check your wallet and suddenly it’s difficult to control your bowels. I’m in waaay over my head, so I started looking for sponsors.

Enter, Backcountry Research:

Bricks were shat and my pants were ruined when I heard from the president of BackCountry Research.  For those who don’t know, Backcountry Research is the company that brought us the Awesome Strap, (among other things). He thinks the Cedar Cross is “legit” and has pledged to ”hook us up awesomely”. I can’t even begin to tell you how proud I am to say that The Cedar Cross is officially listed on BCR’s race calendar. Please go to their website and buy something right now. Seriously, do it. I did.

Did I mention we’re also sponsored by Foosh? I guess I’ve been using Foosh mints for about a year now, and I love them. Jason Kensey is the fonder of the Foosh empire, and I’m happy to say he’s a supporter of the Cedar Cross and Team Virtus. Everyone I know that’s tried Foosh has loved it, so you’re probably no different. Foosh is like an Altoid mint with more caffeine than a Monster or a Red Bull. Yep, they’re awesome.

My buddy Nick Smith, (owner of RedWheel Bike shop), was also quick to lend a hand. Not only will he be racing in the Cedar Cross, he’s also giving me a STEEP discount on one of these babies to raffle off on raceday:

Is your mind blown yet? It damn well better be. But wait, there’s more…

I also landed a pretty sweet discount on some Chamois Butt’r.   200 of the sample size ‘butter packs’ were sold to me for $60. So, everyone should be able to go home with a minimal amount of taint destruction. No need to thank me.

As if all of this wasn’t already overwhelming enough, I recently received an email from the Jefferson City Convention and Visitors Bureau. It seems they’ve heard the buzz surrounding Cedar Cross and they want to help out. I’m pleased to officially announce that the Cedar Cross will Start and Finish at the North Jefferson Commuter Lot/Paved Pavilion. This will be VERY convenient for you out-of-towners.

I’ve got a meeting with these fine people on Feb 3rd, and I’m really hoping they decide to let us use the pavilion for free. There is also talk of discount rates at local hotels and I’ll have more on that after the meeting.

I guess that’s all of our sponsors for now, but I hope to announce many more in the future. If you know anyone who wants to help make this a better event, please let me know. I think it’d be great if everyone could take home some kind of souvenir.

This will be an AWESOME RACE!!! I can’t wait for May 6th.

Info here.

Today, Pepper and I set out to clear one small section of the race course. Here’s what went down.

On South Mill site road, there’s a trailhead just to the side of the road right before it becomes someone’s driveway. I suspect this piece of trail is forgotten because it’s fairly remote and just a bit hidden. This photo was taken while standing on the trail looking out at the road.

Trailhead, my ass. Keep a watchful eye for the grey diamond on the tree.

From here, it’s a short downhill to yet another hidden trailhead. I’m not kidding, it took me 30 minutes to find it the first time I was out here. The trail goes almost straight down into a semi-dry creekbed.

Where I'm standing, it's dry.

This is where the work started. Can you find the trail in this picture? 

It's frickin' shameful, isn't it?

A  bit of heavy lifting and one broken rake later:

  

Pepper is such a camera whore

This is what I came up with for the water crossing. The water should pass under these rocks and roll off the trail. I’m still a beginner at this type of thing, so if anyone has a few pointers, I’m ready to learn a better way.

All flat-rock, water would be coming right-to-left

 I bet it took over an hour to clear a piece of trail that people  will ride in about 30 seconds, but it’ll be worth it on raceday.

After clearing “Pepper Hill”, I turned my attention Northward. Check out this Before/After shot:

The dog doesn't even know where the trail is..

 ***Leaf-blowing sounds***

Well how about that

Obviously there’s still a lot of work to be done, but this course is  going to be worth it. There will be no admission fees, but there WILL be prizes for top finishers, manned SAG stops, bbq at the finish and a special SHAT trophy for the one racer who truly earns it. I’m still trying to nail down the race-date, but it I’m hoping to make it happen on March 25th

This race will be awesome.

Two tired, hairy animals.

 

I decided to take the bull by the horns and go for a ride. After all it was a beautiful day. Monday and Tuesday was fog, and Wed. and Thurs. were incredibly high winds. Today the skies were clear and blue, and as far as I could tell, no wind. I decided to check out a new section of the Bay Trail with the Vaya.

There was a little bit of foot traffic and a couple of bikes too; but most of all, the shore birds dominated.

This guy here was posing for me.

Here’s another………

The ride ended up being all on gravel; started in Mountain View and wound around the backside of Moffett Field, ending in Sunnyvale, not too far from Alviso. I took a wrong turn the first mile.

I backtracked and then found the correct gate with the bay on my left and Moffett Field, my right. Moffett is famous for blimp hangers and the Navy Air Corp which use to have a base here.

Tomorrow I may ride this again and check out how the trail intersects with the Guadalupe River Trail, both of these sections I’m scouting for a possible gravel race that I may develop for the area. So, there appears to be miles and miles of gravel. At least enough for a grinder.

Mountain Feedbag and ipod: required gravel-riding gear

Sunday’s scouting ride was supposed to be 40-ish miles long…more on that later. Adam and I rolled out from Dos Primos at around 9am, and it wasn’t long before we were riding North on County Road 363.

Familiar territory, this is the first leg of the Dirty Jenkins

The weather was absolutely magnificent. Seriously, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the high-temp was only going to be around 80 degrees. Perfect weather for anything, except working or cleaning the house. Laundry be damned, we had more important things to do.

Adam's got a fancy system for his earbuds

For those unfamiliar with the Cedar Creek trail system, do yourself a favor and print this map.  (It’s a friggin’ nightmare to find online.) A combination of singletrack and gravel roads, the trail system is largely unused. When you’re out there you almost never run into another person. The trails are pretty nice, save for a few sections that have been horse-trampled.  From 363, we turned left onto 364 and followed it all the way to the National Forest entrance. Once you’re through the gate, you get ride through stuff like this:

What, this doesn't impress you?

Follow those tracks for a while and you’ll eventually come to this opening:

That yellow dot is Adam leaving me behind. What a dick.

From that hill, it’s only a short ride until a steep piece of downhill singletrack drops you onto the gravel of Burnett School road. Burnett School road becomes Shelton road as it snakes Northward. This section is almost all uphill, but the view on either side of the road is a welcome distraction from the effort you’re putting forth to get up the climb.

Adam climbs Shelton road like a hoss

About 100 yards before you get to Hwy Y, theres’ an area on the right that has been mown down. This is actually a part of Cedar Creek trail, which was put there to keep people from having to ride on Hwy Y. Very thoughtful, in my opinion.

This connector puts you straight across the street from "Bob Veach Rd."

That connector will put you straight across the street from Bob Veach road. Bob Veach Road is a relatively flat piece of gravel with a few rolling hills. It goes almost straight North for several miles.

Not a single cloud in the sky.

There are a few nice houses and a couple of families who are really into horses. It’s not uncommon to see people out here just riding around on horseback.

17-ish miles into the ride

Eventually you’ll see a sign for Clinkenbeard rd. This is where you wanna hang a left.

You dont wanna miss this turn. Trust me.

Clinkenbeard has a few more climbs, but nothing too earth-shattering. Eventually, you intersect Engelwood road, where you turn right and immediately turn left onto Johnson Cemetry rd. At this time you will be promptly attacked by two asshole dogs. Bring your dog spray or a pistol, I know I will next time.

Johnson Cemetery rd runs into Ginn Lane, where you take a left. Ginn Lane has got some nasty climbs and a twisty downhill that’ll streak your chamois if you don’t tap the brakes. This is a fun road.

A pretty pic, but we all know pics dont do justice

Barnes Chapel road leads you to the Moon Loop Trailhead, and this is where Monstercross truly begins.

Moon Loop is marked with Yellow Diamonds

***A little bit of history on the Moon Loop: When the US Forest Service took ownership of this area in the 1930′s, the area was so eroded that it looked like the surface of the Moon. Hence the name “Moon Loop” . ****

Anyhow, Adam and I made our way into the woods and commenced the taint-bashing experience that is riding a cross bike on singletrack. The first 100 yards or so is pretty bumpy, but then it opens up.

Ahhhhh...the glory of MONSTERCROSS!!!

The “open-air” type of trail soon ends and you find yourself riding through a very nice piece of our National Forest.

It doesnt get much better than this.

Every good cyclocross course has barriers, and this one will be no exception. There are a number of “barriers” out there, and when this race finally happens you will come to love each and every one of them.

"Natural" barriers

A run-up is a staple item for any decent cross course, so it’s only natural that a Monstercross course has one or two of them. We crossed a dry creek, and on the other side is a steep “run-up” past the old Mill Site.

Fat guys don't enjoy run-ups

Towards the end of the trail, Adam smacked a hidden log and went for a little trip over the handlebars. It was awesome, and I made him stay in the thorns until I got this picture.

I may or may not have laughed my ass off.

Truly great race-courses don’t happen on accident. It takes a lot of careful planning and scouting….and getting lost. Somehow, we wound up back at the trailhead, having done the entire loop instead of only the first 3 miles like we’d planned. To say I was frustrated would be a serious understatement.

We were both running pretty short on water at this point, but we got lucky when we found the water spigot in front of Barnes Chapel Church.

We would've been pretty screwed if we hadnt found this water.

By now we were both feeling a bit drained, so we opted to alter the route. There would be no more scouting of virgin trail today, the smart thing to do was take our candy asses back to the gravel and head for Highway J. Along the way, we stopped to take a leak, (read: I had to walk the hill) and Adam found a McDonald’s cup with 2 Monopoly stickers still on it. He was rewarded with a coupon for a free 1/4 pounder with cheese.

Proof that only assholes win at Monopoly

After crossing Rutherford Bridge, we took a left and headed up county rd 354. This is a super-shitty piece of road that we will not likely include on raceday. The one highlight to this piece of road is when you get to ride past the home of a very “Shrek-like” guy who REALLY doesn’t want you trespassing on his land. Check out the sign in his front yard.

Wow.

I’d really like to get a closer shot of that sign, but I’m pretty sure this asshole is just dying for an excuse to shoot someone. Just in case you’re curious, this is how it reads:

Property owner will shoot to kill any man woman or child dispensing weaponry toward this property

Said owner will engage and subdue anyone dispensing weaponry within 150 yards of said property

No Trespassing

Unwelcome domestic animals are killed

No aid now available to distressed National Forest visitors

Someone must have really pissed that guy off. The funny thing is that I’m pretty sure he spent more time working on the sign than he did on his house. One whole side of his house doesn’t even have siding on it, just plastic-wrap.

Once we hit Highway J, we rode pavement all the way back to New Bloomfield. I dont know about Adam, but my ass was dragging pretty bad at this point. I must’ve eaten a bad snack or something, because my stomach was all kinds of messed up. When we finally made it t0 a gas station, I got some beef jerky and Coca Cola. I thought the sugar would calm my stomach down…I was wrong. I walked out of the gas station and promptly vomited 2 cans of coke and a bag of beef jerky. And while that was disgusting, it was even more disgusting that Adam took no pictures. I think you know what that means.

After I got all the puking handled, we were back on the road…headed for that glorious plate of shrimp nachos at the end of the rainbow. At the end of the day the cyclometer showed 56 miles, but that doesn’t account for any of the hike-a-biking or tree-hurdling we did out there.

Paved roads are so much easier to ride than gravel

It was a day full of triumph and failure, but the greatest shock didn’t happen for me until we got to Dos Primos. I ordered a pitcher of beer and my beloved shrimp nachos….then couldn’t eat or drink any of it. After barfing jerky and coke, the prospect of a followup performance with shrimp and beer was too much, even for me. Luckily, Adam fell short on the photo-taking once again..thus saving me years of embarrassment.

The next day, I went out there and figured out where we went wrong. We missed the connector, but if the trail were better marked, we wouldn’t have had any problems.  I have since “re-marked” the connector, and am looking forward to scouting/pre-riding this course again very soon. When this race-course finally comes to fruition, you better be there and you better pack a lunch.

My second build was a Pugsley. Again I assembled all the components, but this time I had the Large Marge wheels built. I was also adding an Alfine 11. I love my Puglsey, and haven’t been on my old mtb since.

I’ve begun my third build, something between a road bike and a mountain bike, I guess. I don’t cyclocross but maybe a montercross bike.  It’s for long gravel and dirt roads. I’m planning for that gravel grinder I’m going to do one day. Have you guessed the frame yet? Yes, a Salsa Vaya.  I’m really excited by this bike.  Everyone seems to love theirs, and remarks on how comfortable they are even after hours in the saddle.  Here it is in “Super Orange!”

But now, here’s the crux of this post.  When the frames leave the factory they still need to be chased and faced by the consumer. I just think that’s wrong! I’ve invested in the tools and equipment to transform a frame into a complete bike. How much harder would it be to fully prep these frames for the end user; a token of customer service to the loyal cyclist? Now maybe this is just Salsa, I’m not sure. When I purchased my Surly frame, the bike store said it was all prepped. OK, ranting done.

the start

I’m wanting to ride a gravel grinder and build a bike for one. Can you believe it, I can’t find one organized route (like the Dirty Kanza) in California. We have some endurance mtb races and lots of roadie races, but NO gravel. I know there’s gravel out there, but it’s sure hard to find.

Blue Heron

I’ve been looking at the Bay Trail, which circumvents most of the SF Bay. Some of it is gravel; what they call an unimproved trails. Like it’s bad or something, and I hope it stays that way. Then I discovered three river trails, pretty much parallel to each other not far from me. So, today was the first outing on one of them. I didn’t ride to the end of the Guadalupe River Trail, just to where the gravel ended. Up and back was a little over 10 miles. But I’m thinking if I can hook up the gravel sections from each of the 3 trails (assuming the other have gravel), and ride from my house along the Bay Trail (which does have gravel), I might be able to create a pretty good route.

ducks

Anyways, it was a pretty nice ride. The river’s pretty low and still in areas. Of course, we haven’t had rain in a few months. But there’s lots of vegetation and riparian wildlife. Kind of strange finding this little strip of “rural,” surrounded by housing and industrial complexes.  I sure do appreciate it though.

“It was the most miserable race ever. It was ridiculously difficult and painful… and I can’t wait to do it again.”

Having done some longer adventure races in the past, I understand what they mean when they say how “fun” it can be when you’re suffering miserably.  However, 200 miles of tough gravel roads through the Flint Hills of Kansas in 100+ degree heat just didn’t sound like something I’d ever want to do.  A bunch of the TRW guys signed up again this year, including our very own Bob Jenkins, but there was no way in hell I wanted to subject myself to that kind of pain and punishment.  So I didn’t sign up for this year’s race.

Then Robby Brown called me up.  He said he needed a teammate to do the team relay (a new part of the 2011 DK 200).  While I was reluctant, I didn’t want to let Robby down.  Even though my longest ride ever up to that point was 59 miles (in cold weather I might add), I begrudgingly agreed, and we signed up as a team.

Despite being signed up to “only” do 100 miles, I was still pretty terrified.  I had heard too many tales of vomiting, heat stroke, numerous flat tires, and corpses rotting under mulberry bushes.  After several 20 mile rides, a ton of stationary biking (thanks to all of the rain we’ve had this spring), a 55 miler on the Katy Trail, and an 80 miler on the Katy Trail, I knew I was ready.  And by ready, I mean I was still completely unprepared and unsure of whether I could ride 100 miles at Dirty Kanza.

Nick from Red Wheel Bike Shop loaned me some cyclocross tires for my mountain bike (since I don’t have a cross bike to ride).  The tires seemed to make a huge difference on my training rides.  He also let me use one of his extra Team Red Wheel jerseys, so that I would look a little more legit.  Big thanks to him.  The jersey was MUCH nicer than anything I currently have.  The only other question regarding apparel was whether I should wear traditional cycling shorts (which I’ve never worn without a pair of shorts over them) or my standard baggy mountain biking shorts.  All of our friends on our team facebook page convinced me to forget about modesty and go with the spandex.

Not sure why I'm pointing at my nether regions, but I guess I was nervous about my spandex debut. (Photo courtesy of Nicole Stacey)

We all met at the bike shop on Friday morning, and we drove on out to Kansas.  We were a little behind schedule, but we made it to the Granada Theater in Emporia where we were treated to a viewing of Ride the Divide (Thanks again goes to Red Wheel Bike Shop for footing the bill!).

After the movie, we all checked into the hotel and then went to do some team carb loading at the Pasta Palooza.  Unfortunately, only Bob, Robby, Matt and Nicole Stacey, and I were wise enough to pre-order our meal tickets.  The rest of the TRW crew and our Sag volunteers were out of luck.  They had to go elsewhere to shovel fuel down their throats.

Bob, me, Robby, and Matt getting ready to get our grub on (and possibly gloating a little)

At the pre-race meeting, we listened to all of the usual pre-race meeting stuff… Rules, thank-you’s to sponsors & volunteers, and all of the other usual race info.  Oh, and I won a sweet Awesome Strap from Backcountry Research as I snatched it out of the air when the volunteer threw a bunch out to the crowd.  I must say it was a pretty amazing grab.

Back at the hotel, we got our bikes ready before getting some sleep.  I, however, had a severe headache.  I’m not sure if it was a migraine or nerves or what, but it was bad enough that I thought I might puke.  So I laid in bed with a trash can next to me just in case, and I subsequently passed out.  Robby was pretty worried about me, but Bob assured him that I’d pull out of it.

Thankfully, I woke up feeling like a million bucks.  I didn’t have much to do since Robby was riding the first 100 miles.  All I had to do was brush my teeth and drive the guys to the starting line.  We parked a block away from the Granada Theater starting line, and everyone got ready in their own way.

A nice, introspective pre-race moment... and a minor adjustment to Bob's junk.

L ro R: Stoney Cranmer, Pete Goode, Bob Jenkins, Matt Stacey, Barry Vollmer, Nick Smith, and Robby Brown

Everyone rode on over to the starting line and waited for the long day to start.  The weather was perfect, and the forecast couldn’t have been better.  It was around 70 degrees at the start of the race, and the forecast called for a high of only 92 (hey, it was 105 degrees last year), light wind, and a 0-10% chance of rain.  It was going to be a great day.

Below is a short video of the start of the race.  At around the 21 second mark, you’ll see our group of guys.  Bob is easy to spot, and if you wait a couple of seconds you’ll see Robby ride by with a red backpack on his back.  You’ll also see some tandem bikes and even one recumbent bike.  Check it out:

After seeing the riders start the race, I headed back to the hotel to get my bike and gear ready, and I also destroyed the free hot breakfast.  I loaded up the Virtus Van, and I drove 40 minutes to the first checkpoint in Cassoday.  I waited and chilled for a couple of hours until our guys started to roll in.  First into CP1 from TRW was Barry Vollmer, followed by Matt Stacey, and then Corey “Stinky Feet” Case.

Barry Vollmer posing for a picture taken by his lovely wife (and my nephew's teacher of the past year)

Matt Stacey Rollin' through Checkpoint One

Corey Case coming into CP1

These guys were making really good time, and they seemed to be feeling pretty good at this point in the race.  It wasn’t very long until Nick Smith, Pete Goode, and Stoney Cranmer rolled in with a group of other riders.

Nick ALWAYS follows the rules of the road by using hand signals.

Stoney and Pete coming into CP1

I knew Robby should be rolling in at any moment, but I was starting to get a little worried about him.  My apprehension was relieved when Robby rolled in about 10 or 15 minutes behind Nick, Stoney, and Pete.  It turns out he was riding with all of those guys but had to deal with a flat tire.  Bummer.

Robby was still smiling... even after changing a flat.

After Robby rode in, Wendy Davis made it into the checkpoint followed a few minutes later by her husband (and birthday boy) Jim Davis.

Wendy Davis

Jim "The Lawman" Davis

A short while later, Bob Jenkins rode into the checkpoint with our friend Travis Hammons.  Bob’s plan was to ride at that perfect endurance pace that he could maintain all day.  It seemed to be working for him since he looked like he was feeling pretty fresh… and really, really sexy.

Bob at CP1 with Travis on the left in the background.

Somewhere in all the madness of riders coming into CP1, Chris Bopp rolled in.  I think he came in at around the same time as Nick, Peat, and Stoney, but I’m not sure.  He actually dropped out of the race at CP1 since this was his longest ride in the last 6 months.  But after some ice cold beverages and refueling, along with some encouragement from the team, he decided to go back out for the second leg.

Chris and Bob discuss some serious race strategy as Nick's mom (one of our awesome sag support volunteers) looks on.

Robby rested for 20 minutes or so and then destroyed the one-seater bathroom.  After filling up with water and eating some food, he headed back out to ride the 40-ish miles of the second leg.  Some of the sag volunteers had already moved on to the second CP to make sure they were there for the faster riders in our group.  The rest of us stayed back to make sure that our guys had everything they needed.  Once all of our riders were gone, we made our way to the second checkpoint in Florence.

Once we got there, I went into the bathroom at the gas station and put on my spandex and a liberal amount of Chamois Butt’r.  Then it was a waiting game.  The wind was pretty bad, and the heat had gotten much worse.  There is no way that the weather man was right about a high of only 92.  It had to be 100 degrees or so.  Damn you, Weather Man!!!

I was kind of dozing off and on in my van, so I’m not sure who came in first.  I know that Stoney was the first one to ride out on the third leg of the race, and I think Matt Stacey was the second one to leave.  Barry and Pete took a little more time to rest and refuel.  They looked a little worse than they did at the first checkpoint, but not too bad.  From talking to them, it seemed like the second leg of the race was tougher than the first.

Barry resting and recovering before riding the 3rd leg.

Peat might be the most photogenic person I've ever met.

When Nick rolled into the 2nd checkpoint, I lost what little confidence I had.  He looked like he had ridden through hell on the back of a horny gorilla.  The heat and wind had taken a toll on him, and he said that he was done for the day.

Nick at CP2

Nick sat down and proceeded to tell us just how awful the second leg was.  There were numerous Eff Bombs, and I think I peed in my pants a little.  My hope of finishing 100 miles was quickly dwindling away.

If the Dirty Kanza can do this to Nick, I was pretty much effed.

A short while later, Robby rolled into the CP.  I quickly loaded my bike with water bottles full of my anti-cramping Go-Go Juice, and I rode over to meet Robby.  Robby looked a little worn out, but he looked fresher than a lot of riders coming into the CP.  He said it was pretty damn rough out there as he handed me the map.  With the temps still scorching and the wind still blowing, I started my first leg hoping to make it 60-ish miles to the next checkpoint.

I rode roughly a mile or two of pavement before I hit the gravel roads.  I was feeling good, but I knew I shouldn’t go out too strong if I had any hope of riding 100 miles.  My realistic goal was to average 11 mph, and my optimistic goal was to average 12 mph.  It was hard to reign myself in, though.  It just seemed too easy to go faster than 11 or 12 mph.  A couple of times I looked down to realize that I was going 20 mph.  Yes, it was on a slight downhill, but I was still impressed with myself… and scared that I was overexerting myself.  I just kept riding at what felt like a comfortable pace – not too hard, not too easy.

Notice the tops of the trees on the left... Windy. Also HOT!

The first hour of my ride was brutally hot and pretty windy.  I’m not sure how the other guys made it over 100 miles in these conditions.  I was riding alone with a couple of riders in front of me as well as behind me for most of the time.  Every 15 minutes or so, I’d pass a few riders sitting or lying in a ditch seeking the shelter of the shade.  They looked at me like, “How in the hell is that chubby dude passing me?”  Little did they know that I was only 15 miles into my ride.

I hit the 20 mile mark in just over an hour and a half, averaging roughly 13 mph, and I was still feeling great despite the heat and wind.  The scenery was amazing.  I could see for what seemed like 100′s of miles, and there was absolutely NO civilization in sight.  It was like nothing else I’ve ridden though.  The temperature then began dropping, and the clouds started to roll in.  Sweet!  This was my day.  I knew I was going to make it.

Riding as the clouds roll in.

I made sure to keep drinking my e-Fuel and eating my Honey Stinger Waffles.  I would down half of a bottle of e-Fuel every 25 – 30 minutes, and I’d eat at least one waffle every 45 – 60 minutes.  It seemed to be working since I felt great.  With the sun behind the clouds and the temps dropping quickly, I felt like I could ride forever.  And then I saw this in the distance:

A nice refreshing shower on the horizon

It didn’t look too bad, and I was kind of looking forward to a brief shower.  I kept riding for another 5 miles or so when I heard the first rumblings of thunder.  Lightning up ahead… Thunder… Lightning to my right… Thunder… Lightning to my left… Thunder.  Cool!  I was surrounded.  It was almost like I was riding into the eye of the storm!  Uh… Wait a minute… Is this a good thing?  I looked to my left to see this:

It sort of looked like a funnel cloud, but I was fairly certain it was just a sheet of rain (I hoped so anyway).

Then it started to sprinkle as the wind picked up.  I contemplated stopping to put my camera and phone in a ziplock bag, but then I remembered I didn’t have one since the weatherman said there was virtually NO chance of rain!  (Thanks again, weatherman!)  So I kept riding.  I made it to the 30 mile mark in 2.5 hours when the skies let loose in a BIG way.  It started raining hard, and the wind nearly blew me over.  It was kind of fun riding in the cold rain… for now.

As the thunder and lightning surrounded us, I closed in on a female rider from the St. Louis area who knew Jim and Wendy Davis (I think everyone from St. Louis knows those two).  She asked if I would mind slowing down and riding with her because she “didn’t want to die alone.”  She wasn’t kidding.  I thought of Jack Shepard from “LOST” giving this “Live Toghether, Die Alone” speech, and it seemed very fitting.  So I stayed with her.  We saw a big tree on the side of the road with an old farm house behind it.  She pulled over to pack her camera away and to seek some sort of shelter from the storm.  Since she seemed to be in a safe spot, I rode on.

Then the fun really began.  If you’ve never ridden in sideways hail, you should really try it sometime.  Actually, I take that back.  It hurt like hell.  My camera was soaked by now, and I figured it wasn’t going to work or else I would have taken some video.  Besides, I was too busy trying to stay upright on my bike.  But here’s a video from another Dirty Kanza Rider:

It probably would have been smarter to get off my bike and into the ditch, but I’ve never been accused of being smart.  So I kept riding… for a few more minutes.  As I rounded a corner and came down a hill, my bike started to weave and swerve uncontrollably in the mud.  I couldn’t stop in time, and I went down.  The rain stopped just as quickly as it had appeared, and I was left there in the mud with a huge smile on my face.  I thought of Bob and how he would have loved to ride through that storm with me.  A tear of loneliness rolled down my cheek and fell into the mud below.  Okay, that’s not true, but I did wish Bob and Robby were with me.

I hopped back up and looked at my bike.  I wasn’t sure my camera worked, but I thought I’d give it a shot:

Hmm... Maybe that's why I crashed. (My poor spoke cards)

I scooped as much mud out as I could, and I began to push my bike down the mud bog… er… I mean road.  Then I heard my phone ring.  I couldn’t believe it still worked.  I answered it, and Robby said, “Dude, are you okay?  You need me to come get you?”  I think I replied with, “Eff no!  This is awesome!”  He informed me that Pete (probably 10 miles ahead of me) had seen a tornado and asked them to come get him.  I told Robby that the storm had already passed through and that I was going to be okay.

I planned on pushing my bike through this short muddy section and then finishing the rest of the Dirty Kanza. However, that “short” muddy section turned out to be a little longer and muddier than I thought.

Where's the gravel?

I could only push my bike for 10 or 15 yards before the mud would completely stop the wheels from spinning.  Then I realized some riders behind me were catching me by pushing their bikes in the ditch.  So I followed suit and did the same.  It ceased being fun at this point.  My phone alerted me that I had received a text, and I grabbed it only to find that my screen was dead.  It was useless to me at this point.

After pushing my bike for 2.5 hours or so, I had only gone about 4 miles.  For those of you keeping score at home, the first 30 miles took 2.5 hours and the next 4 miles took the same amount of time.  A group of 5 riders (including Emily Brock, last year’s DK200 Female winner) that I was riding… uh… walking with stopped when Corey, Nick, and Chris pulled up in an SUV.  They were still looking for Pete (don’t worry, he made it in okay).  These guys informed us that we indeed had many more miles of “B” roads before reaching CP3.  It was getting close to 8:00 PM at this point, and the time cutoff for CP3 was 10:30.  It just wasn’t going to happen.

As a group, we looked at the map and decided to get to the nearest paved roads and take them all the way to CP3.  It’s weird how complete strangers will form some sort of “team” when you’re out in the middle of nowhere under harsh conditions.  I was again reminded of Jack’s words, “Ride together, die alone.”  We hopped the barbed wire fence to ride along the fence line where there was no mud.  It wasn’t easy riding, but it was faster than pushing our bikes.  Instead of averaging 2 mph, we could probably manage 6 or 7 mph.

Leaving the mud - my bike weighed a ton! (Photo Courtesy of Chris Bopp)

As we began riding through the field, my stomach churned.  Whoa!  Not good.  I kept riding for another 30 seconds before I had to get off my bike to avoid soiling my spandex a la Dan Dugan at last year’s DK200.  I let the group ride up and over a hill before I waddled over to a ditch with my butt cheeks clinched.  I got my spandex down just in the nick of time, and I left a “Luke Patty” right next to all of the cow patties out there.  Sorry to disappoint you, but I did not get photographic evidence.  You’ll just have to take my word for it.

I assumed the others had left me behind, but one of the guys had a flat tire.  I caught up to them, and we rode off towards the pavement as a group.  When we hit the pavement, I was in the back of the pack with one guy behind me… Or so I thought.  As I looked back, I realized we had dropped one of the riders.  I had heard him say that he didn’t have a light since he thought he would make it to CP3 with plenty of daylight.  Since it was probably 8:15 or so by now, there was no way we were going to make it before dark.

I yelled for the others, but they couldn’t hear me.  I decided to go back to see if he needed help and to make sure he didn’t “die alone.”  His tire wasn’t holding air, and his pump wasn’t working.  I let him use my pump, and that seemed to do the trick.  But a few minutes later, his tire was flat again. With all of the mud and muck, it was really hard to make sure there was nothing inside your tire to cause a flat.  We pulled over at a little abandoned shop.

Betty, my noble steed. She was not happy with me.

I found out that the guy’s name was Dave, and he was from Omaha.  He’s hypoglycemic, and he just couldn’t stomach any more sweet tasting gels, waffles, or bars.  He had had a loooong day, and I think he had reached his limit.  He sort of had a meltdown as he tried to change fix his flat for the third time in the last 20 minutes.  Many eff bombs were dropped, and I thought Dave was going to quit and sit there until help arrived.  My phone was dead, and his had no signal.  He would’ve been waiting awhile.

Omaha Dave changing his tire... again.

The third time’s the charm.  The tire held air, and we rolled on the pavement toward CP3 at Council Grove.  The wind was brutal, and the sun was going down quickly.  We made it to Highway 56, and we figured we had about 12 miles left.  The wind was even worse once we got on the highway, but we made decent time with all things considered.  Dave was great to ride with, but he was more than ready to be done.  He had an extra 100 miles on his legs that I didn’t have.  Once his phone got a signal, he called and left a message for his sag support to come get him.  We then kept rolling as the last rays of light disappeared.

Good bye old friend.

I had enough light for the both of us, and we pushed on.  We figured we only had about 4 miles left when we saw a sign telling us that Council Grove was 13 more miles away!  What?!?!  That was a punch to the pills that we didn’t need, but we kept going.  As we got within 3 or 4 miles of Council Grove, a truck with bikes on a rack pulled up to see if we needed help.  I said that I’d ride in the last few miles, but Dave opted to hop in the truck.  We said goodbye, and then I was alone.

I put my iPod on, and tried to push the pace a little since I figured I would be disqualified.  I averaged 18mph or so (not great for most, but that’s wicked fast for me).  I made it into Council Grove, but of course the CP was a two or three miles from edge of the town.  I rolled into the CP, and they took my number and handed me a map.  I thought it was weird that they were going to allow me to continue.  I was happy and bummed at the same time.

Then I realized that they just assumed that I had ridden the race route when in fact I had taken an alternate route.  I went back to the volunteers to tell them that I had taken the paved roads, because I didn’t want to get credit for something I didn’t actually do.  They informed me that I was indeed disqualified.  I still had the map for the last leg, though.  So I could technically still ride the last leg.  But what was the point?  I was already DQ’d, it was already 10:15 PM, and I wasn’t sure if the rest of the gravel roads were muddy or not.  So I called it a day.

Travis’s friend, Sheldon, handed me the most delicious piece of Meat Lover’s pizza I’ve ever eaten in my life.  BIG thanks to him!  I owe you one, man.  I got some water, and chilled a little while with Bob, Robby, Travis, and his crew.  I then saw a group of riders come in with VERY clean bikes.  Several of them headed back out for the 4th leg to “finish” the Dirty Kanza 200.  In my mind, that’s not right, but hey… Who am I to judge?  If they can live with that, then they have a much different idea of what the Dirty Kanza is all about than do I.

A big Congratulations to Matt Stacey and Stoney Cranmer.  They were the only two in our group to finish the race (and I mean legitimately finish the race).  Matt finished in 27th place overall and 16th in the Men’s Open Division with a time of 16:37.  Stoney finished 34th overall and 5th in the Single Speed Division with a time of 17:16.  Very impressive, guys, and I couldn’t be happier for both of you.

I rode (with some hike-a-bike) 66.99 miles in 7:10.  I felt good… Not great, but good.  I think I could have ridden 40 more miles as long as the roads were dry.  Am I disappointed?  You bet I am.  I feel bad that I couldn’t finish my half for Robby, but I guess that’s part of endurance gravel racing.  There wasn’t much I could do about the weather.  It was a blast, and I had a great time hanging with the TRW guys, Travis and his crew, and Jim and Wendy Davis as well.

Mark my words: I WILL be back next year.  And I’ll be shooting for the full 200 miles!  Who else wants to join me?

This year, the organizers promised more gravel and more hills. At the start, Jim even mentioned the possibility that Cameron Chambers’ sub 12-hour record might fall. According to him, the course was abnormally fast because much of the gravel was pressed into the road bed during the spring rains. As we soon learned, his claim was spot on; what he failed to mention were the endless hills during the first 100 miles. Add in heat, strong heads winds out of the southwest and a pop-up thunderstorm, and the Flint Hills proved once again that just finishing this race is winning…something I have yet to experience.

I wish I had grand stories of sloshing through ankle deep mud, seeking shelter from funnel clouds, or even fighting around the course in survival mode. But, this year I simply didn’t have any fight in me. Even at the start line I knew something was wrong. Instead of excitement and eagerness to hit the gravel, I felt apprehensive and lethargic. I learned the hard way that there is no suffering or fighting through it when if your mind isn’t into it.

The start was fast as always. Just like last year, I watched as the front group sped away…only this year the group swelled to what looked like 30 or more racers. I sat up and watched as a chase group formed and marched off across the hills. I rode alone for several miles and then started picking up stragglers that had fallen from the front two groups. Before long, I was in a peloton of 20 or more riders. We were riding at a fast pace, but with so many working together, the effort was very easy. We stayed together until the rolling hills leading up to Texaco Hill. Then, the group slowly dwindled until I was riding alone again. I caught two more over the top of Texaco and rode with them until the first check point.

As I started rolling out for the second leg, Ben, Rick, and David rolled in, claiming they were making it a quick stop. So I decided wait for them. We rolled out, ready for a fast 40-mile leg thanks to the strong SSW wind that would be mostly at our backs.

Around mile 80, Rick yelled, “Stop!”

“What?”

“Look!”

“Oh shit. Is that what it looks like?”

“Yelp. A large group is riding towards us.”

We scanned the map while we waited for them to reach us. Turns out we all missed a turn several miles back. Fortunately, back was north so the wind would be pushing us back on course. The missed turn was onto an infamous Dirty Kanza “cut through” that connected together country roads. This one dropped down, down, down, a rock (not gravel) littered trail that finally reaching two creek crossings. All the down meant only one thing: up. The road rolled and climbed for the next 10 miles, before leveling off for the final run into the second stop, in Florence.

During the drop to the creek crossing, my head started pounding. I don’t know if it was the banging and bucking, dehydration, or both, but the pain was blinding. I dropped off the back of the group and started drinking water with Camelbak Elixir. Just as the headache started to let up my feet started burning. I’m not sure if it was hot foot or something else, but I’ve never felt foot pain that intense. I loosened my shoes and took advantage of every downhill to unclip and flex my feet. Both brought some relief but the pain only worsened with each pedal stroke. Seeing the Florence grain elevator on the horizon was the only thing that kept me from pulling over. During those 10-15 miles, I argued about what was next: in or out? I decided I would take an extended break, eat some lunch, and then decide.

I limped into Florence, found Traci and the boys and ripped off my shoes. I sat for 20 minutes with my feet up before I felt any relief. While I sat there, Eric stopped by and mentioned that he was suffering like crazy but was fighting on. I also watched Jim roll out, looking fresh as he did on the line. While I was eating, I convinced myself that I had to go on. So I suit up again. Before I left, I rolled over to the gas station for a quick piss break. I rolled up and found Rick and David talking outside. David suddenly started feeling sick and decided not to go on. Something about talking with him–nothing he said, more the voice in my head–convinced me that I shouldn’t continue. I rolled back to the car, loaded my gear and drove home.

David called just as we left Emporia to tell me that a strong storm blew in, stranding Ben and Rick on the course. The once fast gravel turned to mud too thick for bicycles. I checked radar and felt a sudden rush of relief, not for the storm or the riders that were surely stuck out in the condition, but more for my decision to stop. There’s no way I would have fought through rain and mud. As difficult as it was to drop out, seeing the boiling storm on radar confirmed my decision.

Now, with two DNF’s under my belt, the question is next year? Today, the answer is why bother. But, with probably too much bike time in the past 2 months, that will surely change, especially as registration approaches.

Fast forward to today. My mind was occupied with what went wrong. I settled on three key areas, each of which I plan to address this year:

1. Nutrition. My plan last year was focused on eating enough calories every hour along with a steady stream of Cytomax, Gatorade, and water.
   Changes for this year: less solid food, reduced carb intake, and closer focus on hydration. While searching, I found an article on Hammer that states the case very clearly: http://www.hammernutrition.com/hnt/1273/
2. Pacing. Based on results from previous years, I wanted a pace that would bring me in between 14 and 15 hours. At the start, I watched as a big group shot off the front. The urge to go with them was pretty intense, but I sat down and rode at my own pace. Overall, I feel like my pace was good. At about the 20 mile mark, I let my pace rise several MPH–something about too many rabbits up the road–and while I never went into the red zone, I think that section was intense enough to put me in a deficit.
   Changes for this year: Set it and forget it! I have to maintain my target pace no matter what’s up the road.
3. Equipment. I packed entirely too much sh*t last year. With rest stops around 60, 100, and 140 miles, there’s no reason to carry more than necessary.
   Changes for this year: no camel back–two water bottles will suffice; no extra tubes–one tube and a patch kit (the Swalbe tires held up great!); no extra food–see number one! Last year I had gels, bars, and who knows what else to eat. This year I’ll carry bottles and a few gels. Equipment probably had the least to do with not finishing last year, but theres no reason to carry the extra weight.

As far as training goes, I’ll probably continue with the same basic program. In addition to upping the mileage as the date approaches, I’ll try to work in more miles on gravel. Last year, I had no idea where to find gravel roads. Thanks to Guru’s and other events in the area, I now have plenty of options.

Look for more posts as the big date approaches. See you in Emporia!

Look closely and you'll see everyone (excluding me since I took the photo). You can just barely see Stoney's and Bob's heads in the background. Also, this is the only photo of Barry (farthest left) since he took off like a bat out of hell.

We had planned on riding this route.  Well, I planned on cutting that ride short to begin with since I had to be back for a birthday party my daughter was going to… And because I’m a wimp.  We decided to slightly alter the route since the Katy Trail was covered in a foot of snow.  We had to ride on Highway 63 for a short distance instead.  We had no problems, though.

I won’t bore you with too many details.  I’ll just say that the weather was terrific.  Although, the roads were pretty muddy in spots and icy in others.  It was a ton of fun.  You should have been there!

I’ll leave you with some fun facts from our ride, followed by a few photos and then a photo montage.

Now on to the Fun Facts…

Participants: Zack Lamb, Bob Jenkins, Adam Lafoon, Barry Vollmer, Matt Stacey, Stoney Cranmer, Don Daly, and Luke Lamb.

Distance: Bob, Adam, and I rode a total of 26.36 miles.  The rest of the group wimped out and decided to keep riding for a measly 30 more miles or so.  In fact, they’re still out riding as I type this.  What a bunch of cream puffs!

**UPDATE**: Zack, Matt, Don, and Stoney made it 55 miles including a 2 mile hike-a-bike section in over a foot of snow (photos at the end of this post).

Number of Crashes: Two.

Rider with the most crashes: Bob Jenkins with two.

Riders in Shorts: One – Bob Jenkins

Rider with the Most Bloody Knees: Bob Jenkins

Now, on to the photos…

Don points out Bob's first crash in case any of us missed it.

The aftermath of Bob's fall (although it would get worse after the next crash).

Zack

Adam

Stoney

Don

Roads either looked like this...

...or this.

Don't think fenders work? Zack was the only with a fender, so check out his ass (middle) compared to Don's and Stoney's.

Adam's new Camlbak... Well, it was new before this ride.

A Muddy Good Time.

This is what Bob's knee looked like at the end of the ride. I'm sure it won't get infected. (Click on photo to get a really good look)

Now on to the Photo Montage…

Here are some Photos from the long riders’ Hike-a-Bike…

This could not have been easy. (Photo by Matt Stacey)

Zack and Don making their way through the snow. (Photo by Matt Stacey)

Cross bikes in the snow... So pretty. (Photo by Matt Stacey)

Gettin' ready to ride.

Bob and Robby

Bopp's gang sign

Apparently on the way over from his house (only a half mile away), Bob somehow managed to trash the derailleur on his Specialized Tricross.  He showed up on his GT Peace 29er, but he needed to air up the tires.  As he did so, he somehow managed to destroy the presta valve, rendering the tube useless.  So we headed over to Bob’s house to get his Specialized Single Cross.

Bob and his Single Cross Bike

After swapping his seat post from the geared bike over to the single speed, he needed to air up the tires.  Once again, Bob somehow managed to destroy the presta valve.  Not a good start for Bob.  On top of being sick, he had a crappy day at work, and now he was having some shitty luck with his bikes.  He almost took it a sign from the Gravel Gods to stay home, but he decided to push his luck and try to ride with a broken valve anyway.  Brilliant, right?

Bopp showed me another sign as we waited for Bob.

So we headed out in the cool night air.  The weather was perfect, the moon was bright, the gravel was great, the wind was at our backs, the banter was sophisticated, and we were having some serious fun.  We made good time and soon found ourselves at the gate leading into Mark Twain National Forest.

Bob did not know I was taking his picture... This is how he always looks.

Crossing the first gate into the National Forest

Once again, Bopp gives me the bird. Did I piss him off or something?

We rode through open fields on gravel that turned into smooth double track.  It’s a pretty unique place to ride.  Words can’t do it justice, and my camera sucks at night.  So you’ll just have to take my word for it… Or you could join us next time and find out for yourself.

We passed through another gate, and the double track turned into single track.  Then the trail sort of disappeared in the tall grass as we came upon a pond.  Once at the pond, we picked the trail back up, and we then crossed yet another gate.

Look closely and you'll notice that Bopp is now giving me TWO fingers.

On the way out of Mark Twain National Forest, the trail gets really fun.  And by fun I mean it gets very rocky.  Loose rocks covered in tons of freshly fallen leaves in the dark makes this short stretch of trail pretty interesting.  I’m not sure how those guys rode it on cross bikes.  I had to walk some of it on my mountain bike.

We soon popped out of the woods and back onto gravel.  It wasn’t long after this when a flat tire occurred.  Bob’s tire?  Nope.  Surprisingly, Bob’s tire held up just fine.  It was Robby’s tire.  He was just riding along when he suddenly heard a “Pssss… Pssss… Pssssssssss.”  So we stopped to watch him change his tire.

Trying to unhook the brakes

I told you Bob always looks like this.

Still trying to unhook the brakes

Proof that I was indeed on this ride.

I surprised Bopp, so he had no signs for me here.

Robby got the flat fixed, and we were soon on  our way.  The last half of this ride has more hills than the first half.  We were also now riding into the wind that was previously at our backs.  This was no problem for us, though, because we have “Strength and Honor.”

Rolling back to Holts Summit

I tried to surprise Chris again, but he's too wise for that - hence another finger.

We made it back to Dos Primos around 11:00 PM or so.  Chris had to get going, but Bob, Robby and I had a beer and some great conversations, some of which I cannot speak for I’ve been sworn to secrecy.

All I can say is "N-R-O-P-3" - You would understand that if you were there.

Bike, Bob, and Beer

Robby havin' a beer in the cold

It was pretty cold by the time we finished our beers, and it was getting late.  We said our goodbyes, and our wonderful evening unfortunately had ended.  It was a fantastic ride with a great bunch of guys.  Make sure you join us at the next Virtuesday ride.  Be there.  Yes you!  Seriously, be there.

And don’t forget that Jeff City Cyclocross is tomorrow night at Binder!  You don’t want to miss it.

Thank you for your support.

Today marks a return to cycle-tensive writing and the end of my commuting-only riding problem.  It really stinks when you ride over a hundred miles a week, then realize there wasn’t one single mile of riding dedicated to just getting out there and feeling the breeze blow through your beard (or whatever other head-anchored hair apparatus you sport). I am not talking of the plight of the forever-training-roadie, but of the career commuting cyclist.  Between working, catering, lawn care, home upkeep, bike maintenance, and beer, the twice a week gravel ride and once a week bar run ride have gone by the wayside.  SHIT. This is why you haven’t seen any ride recaps here, which would go a little like this every day:

Got out of the shower today and donned my favorite fat-guy Mount Borah MTB jersey, place my beloved cell phone in a baggie, then placed the phone and baggie into my left jersey pocket.  I then looked at the heap of bikes that occupy what was probably used as a breakfast nook at some point before my arrival.  Hmmm….I chose _________ bike, checked the tire pressure and chain lube condition then the kitchen crapped me and my chosen steed out its back door and into the world. I hung a left at the end of the drive and rode Adams St. to the GWT, tood a right and started hammering towards Des Moines proper.  I encountered blah blah blah….

You get the idea.  This is every day of the week for the most part and once in a while there will be some highlights such as the day I was passed and dropped by a guy wearing a broken leg boot (in my defense, I was carrying a ton of catering items in my bags). And the day the old guy in knee high tube socks and dirty tennis shoes on a semi-nice Specialized road bike rode right past me (I sometimes get irritated upon hearing the classic “on your left”).  And all of the days I ran into friends at the lean-to on the way to work and had to stop for a beer (one of the reasons I leave early for work).  And the numerous times I tried to ford the waters of the flooded George Flagg Parkway (if you ever see a bearded man carrying a bike through knee-deep flood waters while laughing hysterically, that’s me).  And that time this guy on a carbon road bike invited me to climb up Park Avenue from the trail, even though I was riding a track bike and explained I wouldn’t really be able to keep up, so he just dropped me, not by much, but never just slowed down for two minutes for me to catch up and continue the conversation we were having.  Or that time I saw a racoon hanging out with a small deer.  Or the time I was helmet-buzzed by a hawk. Ok, so there are some interesting times, but they all end with me in clogs chopping shit on a cutting board (or eating tacos), and the ride itself is monotonous after the last 9 months.

You should get it by now.  I ride every day, but long for the days when riding my bicycle was for used for fun, long rides to uncharted-by-me territory and not strictly for the old in and out (of town).  So today I actually had a little free time and went for a sorely needed gravel ride.  32 miles of Prime Central Iowa Gravel and a nice brutal Level B road thrown in (twice) for some spice.  It was a great time, and solo gravel riding is very conducive to introspection.  Visions of different bar/brake lever/shifter setups on a few of my bikes, what mtb shoes to buy, and other similar shopping thoughts dance through my head, then passed and settled into planning.  Planning and plotting ways to free up my schedule for more fun rides.  Then it came to me, like in that movie Total Recall, a faint memory of a late night conversation with my good friend Bob hit me like a ton of bricks.  He is convinced that I should race Cyclocross this year, and shit yeah I am in.  What could be more fun than getting muddy, drinking beer, and possibly getting slapped in the face with a Summer Sausage while riding, running, and slogging your heart out?  I think I just heard a cowbell in the distance!

Watch out, Iowa Cyclocross, you just got yourself a new last-place Cat 5 finisher!

This is what I call TRAINING!

It’s (past) time for another Pink House Invitational Gravel Grinder, and time for a name change. We are dropping the “invitational” aspect of the ride as it seems to have made the ride seem too “exclusive” and some riders may have missed out. (Actually, if you weren’t at #1 you definitely missed out on a great time!)

Here’s how it’s going down: we meet at the Pink House (2184 Adams St, in Orelia one stop south of Bambinos on the Great Western Trail) at 10:30 am Sunday, June 27th. We will be departing around 11:00-ish to ride 50-ish miles of South Central Iowa’s finest gravel until we land at the Almighty Cumming Tap for some beers and some food prepared by yours truly and Bob Of The Tap. After the festivities are through, those parked at the Pink House will ride the 2.5 miles back and enjoy a little pink house time.

For your consideration:

This is a FUN RIDE and not a race, although the pace may be a little faster than your average fun ride.

The ride is BYOB for the road, cash bar at the Tap.

We will be putting in some miles, so I encourage you to come prepared with the proper liquids and nourishment for the conditions. We can always adapt the route to hit a convenience store if absolutely needed.

This is a self-supported ride and all riders are responsible for their own well-being.

With that said, if you do not have gravel experience or are “not into hills” this isn’t the ride for you. Some of the roads get a little hairy, even dangerous for inexperienced riders. I do not want people getting hurt! Getting hurt usually isn’t fun!

All riders planning to attend please RSVP to me at sdauen@gmail.com by the 25th (or just show up).

Let’s Grind That Gravel and work up an appetite!

Anywho, Bob posted the map for this 53-mile ride along with an open invitation to all (including you, Corey!) on his blog.  Then he managed to tinker with the route so we would start and finish at Dos Primos, a fine Mexican eatery in Holts Summit.  Moving the start and finish turned this ride into a 63-mile ride, although I didn’t know about this until 5:30 in the morning via a text message (thanks for the heads up, Bob).  I wasn’t worried about it, though, because I had planned on cutting the ride short anyway.  I really didn’t think I could make it the whole way, but I didn’t want Bob to think I was a girly-man.

Note how much ice Bob actually scraped off his windows - Not much

Bob and I met at Dos Primos at 6:00 AM, and we looked over the maps while we waited for Phil to arrive.  Phil had already said he needed to cut the ride short because of some family stuff he had to do (we later found out that he was actually getting a mani-pedi).  It was dark and cold when we left, and we had to bomb down a big hill past the Summit Lake Winery.  I wanted to stop the ride right there since my hands and feet were rendered completely useless by the frigid wind.

We hopped onto the Katy Trail, and I realized why we had started so early. Thankfully, the trail was still frozen, so the riding was fast and easy.  If you’ve ever tried to ride the Katy Trail when it is wet and mushy, you know that it’s about as fun as a swift kick to the pills.  But I digress… As the sun started to come up, the visibility did not improve all that much due to the early morning fog.

At one point on the Katy, while Bob and Phil were waiting for me to catch up, Phil had an urge that he needed to satisfy:

I should have photo-shopped this, but you can use your imagination

It was still very cold – cold enough for me to start transforming into my alter ego… Iceman!

Opening my mouth or smiling would tear at my face - hence the permanent scowl

We hopped off of the Katy Trail at Claysville and headed out onto some gravel roads.  Everything was going fine.  The sun was finally burning off the dreary fog.  The temperature was rising slowly.  We were getting into a groove.
And then… we ran into a viciously wild, ferocious dog coming full speed right at us.

He's meaner than he looks

This poor little puppy was shivering badly and wandering around in the middle of the road.  We knew we had to do something for the poor little fella.  So Phil gave him some water and a cereal bar which the young pup devoured.

Then we did what any group of manly men would do…  We took turns holding the puppy while we talked to him in our cute, little puppy voices.

We knew we couldn’t just leave the puppy there.  We decided that we’d take him home and put an ad in the paper and contact the local vet to see if anyone had lost this precious, little schmoopy-poo.  Since Phil was only planning on doing 30 miles or so and we were already at mile 15, he said that he would just turn around and take the puppy home.  I had the biggest pack, so we transferred some gear, and Phil and I switched packs.

Come on. Now, THAT is cute!

Bob and I named the puppy Falkor, after the luckdragon in “The Never Ending Story.”  Actually, now that I think about it, that would be a great name for my new bike, because every time I ride it, I feel just like this.

Once Phil left with Falkor tucked away safely in the pack, Bob and I took off again.  I knew Bob would be faster than I would be, so we agreed to meet back up in New Bloomfield.  We were supposed to cross Highway 63 on Zumwalt Rd, but when we got to where I thought we should cross, the sign said that it was “Old 63″ or something like that.  I rode towards the highway, and then I saw that “Old 63″ and Zumwalt Rd. are one and the same.

I was a little worried, though, because I couldn’t see any of Bob’s bike tracks. The snow and ice on the roads were pretty packed down, though, so I figured (and hoped) I was going the right way.  This part of the ride was great.  Riding the icy, gravel roads was pristine, serene, and beautiful.

I was actually feeling surprisingly good, but my toes were frozen.  I managed to make it to New Bloomfield and stopped at the only gas station I found.  Bob was nowhere in sight.  Did he leave me here all by myself?  I called him up, and he had blown right by “Old 63″/Zumwalt Rd.  He ended up going 4 miles out of his way, so he was behind me a little bit.

This was where I was going to cut the ride short and head straight back to Holts Summit.  Other than my toes, though, I was feeling great.  So I figured, “What the hell?”  I took off to complete the full ride while Bob got some grub and coffee at the gas station.  If we wanted to finish at about the same time, then I needed a head start.

The ride to Tebbetts was a lot of fun.  The roads were starting to thaw a little, but the scenery was great.  I was still feeling strong when I rolled into the metropolis that is Tebbets (population around 700) at around the 45 mile mark. From here, the gravel roads were completely flat, long, and mushy.  It seemed like there was no gravel at all on the roads.  They were just nasty, muddy stretches of pain.  I was begging for a hill or at the very least a turn in the road.

Endless muddy road stretched out behind me

Endless muddy road stretched out in front of me

This muddy stretch sucked the life out of me.  When I FINALLY made it back to the Katy Trail, I was hating Bob for dragging me into this.  The Katy Trail was completely mushy and soft by this point in the day, and it was going to be brutal.  I got off my bike to ease the pain in my ass (literally).  I grabbed a snack, and decided to wait for Bob.  It wasn’t too long before Bob rolled up.

We decided to try to ride Highway 94, but when the shoulder ran out, we decided it was too dangerous.  So we decided to alter the route slightly and take some different gravel roads back into Holts Summit.  Bob graciously rode more slowly with me, and we finished the ride together – hand in hand.  Okay, we didn’t hold hands, but we did finish the last 10 miles or so together.  We got back to Dos Primos, and we changed clothes in the parking lot.

I couldn’t wait to scarf down some chips and salsa while they prepared my Chicken Chimichanga.  Bob decided to forgo looking at the menu (as he always does at Mexican restaurants) and go with the Chicken Nachos with extra jalepenos.  He also decided to go with the “Monster” strawberry margarita.

Bob ended up doing roughly 61 – 62 miles or so, and I ended up doing around 57 or 58. Check out the map below:

At the end of the ride I was beat, but I felt a lot better than I thought I would.  I was glad I didn’t wuss out by cutting the ride short.  This was the farthest I’ve ever ridden my bike at one time which I think is pretty damn cool.  We ended up eating a ton of great food – to replenish our glycogen stores of course.  Then we called it a day.

So, we rode roughly 60 miles in the cold and snow, rescued a puppy, and had a crap-ton of fun – all in one day.  What did you do yesterday?  Next time we ride, you should really join us.  Seriously.  I’m talking to you.  Come out and ride with us.

Until next time, keep on truckin’.

It was a cold and wet fog, the kind of fog that you can feel clinging to your body as you walk through it.  There was even a little bit of ice on the ground here and there (just ask Cara who unfortunately slipped on the ice in Bob’s driveway).  I was kind of hoping for a nice day since the forecast called for 45 degree weather and sun.

When we got to the parking lot, it was nearly full.  There were probably 40 or 50 people there.  I guess there was some important info given right before we rolled out that I missed.  There was apparently a long ride (the Burley Joe Dirt Ride = 27 miles) and a shorter ride (the Joe Dirt Ride = 20 miles).  We were told, although I missed it, that the orange arrows were for the long course, and the pink arrows were for the short course.  I didn’t even know there were any arrows at all until about halfway through the ride.

So, after starting at the back of the pack, I passed a handful of people.  Then I realized my left crank was loose (man, there are so many jokes I could come up with here…).  I had to stop twice to tighten it down.  A few people passed me during the maintenance stops, and I found myself completely alone for most of the ride.

Self-portrait near the top of a long, hard climb

At first I thought it sucked to be riding by myself.  Then as I settled into a groove and the sun came out, I loved it.  It was so peaceful, and the weather was simply perfect.  I think I only saw two cars, and the scenery was unbelievable. The hills were painfully long and steep, but the views were worth the effort (although I had to get off and walk a couple of times).

typical scenery on this gravel road ride

Well, I had apparently missed the orange arrows that pointed the way to the longer ride, and I ended up doing the shorter ride.  After passing a couple of people at the end, I rolled back into the parking lot in around 2 hours, and my bike computer said 16.25 miles.  I was a little disappointed, so I just turned around and started to ride the short course backwards.  I figured I’d ride 5 miles out and then turn around to get my total mileage around the 27 miles that I had planned on doing.

It was actually very cool to see the really fast guys coming the other way as they finished the long course.  I soon ran into Nick and Corey finishing the long course.  Corey decided to ride with me for a little bit in the opposite direction to see if he could find his girlfriend, Noelle.

Corey "Scardick" Case

We soon ran into Noelle and her riding partners, Dana and Pam.  They had a couple of bike issues, but they were all rockin’ the short course.

Noelle

Pam and Dana

We thought about waiting for Bob and Cara, but the ladies hadn’t seen them in quite awhile.  We thought they may have turned back, so we figured we’d go ahead and turn back.

I had ridden 6 miles in the opposite direction, so it was 6 miles back to the parking lot.  Apparently, my computer wasn’t working right at the beginning of the day, because everyone else clocked the short course at right around 20 miles.  So, I ended up doing around 32 miles altogether in a little over 3 hours.  Not bad for me.

We got back to the lot, and Bob and Cara weren’t there.  We talked about the ride for a little bit, and while I was standing there holding my bike upright by the saddle, we heard an eardrum-shattering explosion.  The ladies jumped back about 10 feet, and I may have wet myself – just a little bit.  My front tire just exploded – literally.

Shreded Tire after the Explosion

The bead of the tire was completely shredded and the tube had a 6 inch gash in it where it blew out.  I’m not sure what in the hell caused it, but I was very thankful that it didn’t happen while I hit over 30 mph on some of the bomber downhills!

After saying goodbye to Corey and his gang, I hopped in my Explorer and headed back out to make sure Bob and Cara were okay.  I only got about a mile and a half when I saw them.  Cara looked pretty cooked, but she was still smiling.  She thought about hopping in the car with me, but I assured her that she was very close and most what was left was downhill.  So she finished the ride.  Pretty damn impressive.

Bob and Cara

So, all in all it was a great day.  Perfect weather, fantastic scenery, huge hills, no traffic, and great friends.  What more could a guy ask for?