150 is the new 100: Odin's Revenge 2013 Recap

Wow.  It's been a while.  I feel like I should write about 3 or 4 posts for some background before I put this one out, but in the interest of somewhat expedient reporting, I'll write this one now and worry about the other stuff later.

So June 29th was the second installment of Odin's Revenge, and after my DNF primarily due to the oppressive heat last year, I was determined to make another go of it this year, hopefully with more cooperative weather.  I sent my postcard in on Valentine's Day, and was added to the list of riders for year two. 

The postcard.

However, after increasing my riding each year since I started riding back in 2009, the miles I was riding dwindled fast last fall and over the winter, then stayed depressed well into April.  Since biking is 80-90% of the exercise I do, most of the pounds I lost in the biggest loser contest at work last spring found their way back on to my frame as well.  Oops.

I would have two big endurance tests to gauge my ability before this ride, Bonk Hard Racing's The Ogre in mid April and Dirty Kanza 200 the first of June.  The Ogre started off pretty well, but the Ozark hills kept wearing me down more and more until I got to the point that I barely made the last pit stop before the cut-off time and then was only an official finisher due to some generous timekeeping by the race officials.  Dirty Kanza didn't have The Ogre's hills, but it did have 20+ mph winds that were working against me for a good 40 - 50 miles between miles 50 and 123 where I decided I'd had enough and called it a day.  That sent me into a bit of a depression for a couple weeks where I contemplated not even bothering with going out to Nebraska.  Then as the 10 day forecast came into view, the week prior to the event was supposed to be in the mid to upper 90's and it was questionable whether or not it would cool off by the weekend.  I about pulled the plug when I saw 95° for race day at one point, but thankfully that was a one day blip and by Thursday when I headed out, upper 80's were being forecast.  At least I wouldn't be able to blame the weather for any woes.

Since my friend in Topeka is in the process of moving, I didn't want to intrude on her for a free room Thursday night, so I drove to my teammate Aaron's house in Jefferson City to shorten the drive on Friday at least a little bit.  The prerace meeting was scheduled for 7:00 that night, and I would be pushing it to get make the drive all the way out there in one day and still have a little time to relax before I went to bed.  Okay, if I took the interstate all the way to Gothenburg, it wouldn't be a problem, but when I'm driving solo, I like to take some of the back roads and do a little exploring in the process.  I think it helps me stay awake too.  Interstates can be extremely monotonous. 

However, after getting out of Aaron's house about a half hour later than intended, a stop in Kansas City to get a new hydration pack bladder (mine was starting to grow mold after DK - oops), then searching a few tiny towns in northeastern Kansas for a gas station after forgetting to fill up in Atchison (I was on the phone discussing the possibility of a whirlwind Denver trip after the race - oops again), it was 7:00 on the dot when I pulled into Gothenburg.  I didn't even have time to check into my room at the Comfort Suites before the meeting.  However, when I got to the KOA Campground, I was not the only one running late, and they waited until about 7:30 before getting started.  After some thank you's, introductions, and the presentation of a bottle of alcohol to Guitar Ted, who made the trek from eastern Iowa to partake in the festivities, they started drawing names to hand out lots of SWAG that was gifted for the riders.  My name was drawn fairly quickly, and I scored a Twin Six water bottle stuffed with a pair of socks and a $20 gift certificate.  Cool stuff!

After the meeting, I made my way over to the motel, then went downtown to the grocery store for some fuel for the next day.  At that point I wanted to get some dinner, so I got a pizza from the Pizza Hut next to the motel and took it back to my room while I made my final preparations.  As I do more of these endurance events, I'm getting more dialed into just what I need to bring with me, and I don't stress nearly as much before each one of them.

I was still up until at least 10 or 11 though, and my 4:30 alarm came pretty quickly the next morning.  I kitted up, double checked my gear, and went down to the lobby to see if they had anything for breakfast.  My memory is starting to fade, but it seems like they didn't have as much ready for us as they did last year when I got down there around 5:00.  No matter, I mostly just wanted some of the apple juice they had, and then I went back to get my bike to throw it on the car and head across the interstate to the campground.

When I got there, I did my last minute bike adjustments (mostly air in the tires and lube on the chain) and waited around for the start.  Right at 6:00, Chad hopped into his truck, and led us on a rollout to the south of town.

 I have a history of having things happen to me early on in these races or group rides that drops me to the back of the pack early - last year I had to stop to adjust my light or something right after we hit the gravel, I dropped my chain in the first mile at The Ogre, I had something come out of a pocket or bag early on at the Joe Dirt ride a couple years ago - so I was enjoying being in the front half of group on the roll out.  I knew I had no hope of keeping up with them once we headed into the hills, but it was fun to be up there for a mile or two at the start.  Sure enough, they were dropping me even before we got out of the Platte River flood plain.  As we started heading up Wiggins Canyon Road into the hills though, I started to get a little worried about my fitness levels.  This gradual 2-3% slope seemed to be tougher than I'd remembered from last year, and I was struggling to keep up with some people that I was definitely faster than last year as well.

The one thing I did have this year that I didn't have last year is my Garmin Edge 500, so this year I have the benefit of being able to go back and look at my ride data, and I was holding a 15 mph average through the first 10 miles, despite climbing nearly 300 feet during that time.  Of course, that's only 30 feet/mile, and that kind of climbing is a cakewalk compared to what I normally have to climb around my house when I go out for a ride.  The chill in the air was the other thing I remember from this early stretch.  When we got into the canyon valleys out of the flood plain, the temperature was only in the low 50's and the perspiration from the climb was making me really chilly on a couple of the early downhills.

Just as I was getting into a groove on Wiggins Canyon, we came up to the first real turn we had to be watching for, and after 6 miles of mindless riding, a lot of riders missed the turn.  Fortunately, someone nearby me called it out and I was able to make the quick turn onto Medicine Rd, which greeted me with a nice little climb from a near stop since I had to slow down so much to make the turn.  That close call woke me up a bit and I started staying more in tune with my cue sheet to be aware of the turns.  It helped that the next 10 miles were a nice series of left and rights as we followed the edge of a grid pattern of farm roads as the flatter arable land butted up against the more rugged canyonlands we would be spending much of the day descending into and climbing out of.

Just a cool looking abandon house early in the ride

Coming up towards mile 20, the course descended into the canyons and what is probably my favorite part of the south leg, probably for no other reason than there is a railroad track paralleling the route for the 2-3 miles, and there's a couple cool wooden trestles along said railroad.  Now if there were actually a train along the tracks while I was riding through, I'm not sure I would've been able to control myself.  Unfortunately, the coolest parts never last long enough, and a couple miles after the railroad turned south, our route did too, and we were again forced to climb up to the farmland for a mile or two before we got to descend back into the canyons.

The wall

 At mile 33, I encountered the first minimal maintenance road of the day, and this one doesn't even look like it's used enough to qualify as a driveway.  But then you cross a small field and BAM! you are greeted with this dirt wall you have to ride up strap on your climbing gear and ascend.  Then, once I climbed that, it was right back down and up 3 more hills before the course flattened out again for a few miles.  At this point, though the ups and downs of the MMR was a grind, I was actually feeling pretty good.  I wasn't setting any speed records or anything like that, but I was enjoying myself and clicking off the miles, one by one, then at mile 40, I made the right onto Fox Creek, and knowing where the first checkpoint was after riding last year, I looked across a couple valleys and could see the cars stationed at the checkpoint.  While I knew that the last hill before the checkpoint was going to suck, knowing that a break was right there after I crested the hill would make all the difference in the world going up it.

Almost to Checkpoint 1

It was about 9:15 when I pulled into the checkpoint, an hour or so ahead of where I needed to be to make the cutoff for the south leg.  As with the previous year, the race organizers had provided plenty of water and some yummy snacks to refuel our bodies.  I put the pipe cleaner on my handlebars, and after chilling out for a few minutes, headed out onto the next leg.

I'd remembered the stretch leaving the checkpoint being a grind last year, and while an 8 mile stretch on one road is nice because you don't have to worry about missing any turns for a while, it can also be one of those stretches where if you aren't careful, your mind will start playing games with you because there's not much to keep it occupied for a while.  Sure enough, those 8 miles were just as painful as the year before because not only are you climbing 200 feet during those 8 miles, the wind was blowing out of the north giving us a nice little headwind to fight.  Even though the turn off of Cut Creek Road meant a quick descent and immediate climb back up to the next ridge, I was glad to be off of that road.  Plus, after I turned onto Effenbeck, it was a nice easy 4 or 5 miles to the infamous Government Pocket, or Government Contract, as I kept mistakenly calling it before and after the ride.

During this point, I had the honor of riding with Guitar Ted, who had caught up with me on Cut Creek after leaving the checkpoint, and I then was using him to pace myself and make sure I didn't fall back too much on the grind of that road.  We didn't chat a lot, as I'm not always the greatest conversationalist, and as it turns out, he was starting to fall into his own pain cave during this stretch.  He pulled off to take a break when we turned onto Government Pocket, and that was the last I saw of him until we got to the next checkpoint. 

Last year, I remembered Government Pocket as this loose, sandy, chalky, mess of a road that I had to walk a large portion of because I couldn't get any traction on it.  Thankfully, this year it was packed down, and while it was bumpy, at least it was rideable, and I only had to hop off the bike for one gnarly climb.  Unfortunately, we didn't get the surprise water stop after the descent we got last year, but with temperatures in the 70's or 80's rather than the 90's, it definitely would've been unnecessary this time, as Checkpoint 2 was only 10 miles away.  Still in good spirits, I pulled into the checkpoint about noon.  The volunteers manning the checkpoint commented about how much better I (and everyone else) looked this year than last, and that they were still seeing smiles on most people's faces.  I didn't have a drop bag, having opted to carry everything in a backpack, but I grabbed a bite to eat and relaxed for a few minutes.  To be honest, even though I was still feeling good at this point, I was not looking forward to the next 10 miles or so.  There was going to be the monotony of having 8 or 9 miles with no turns, and I seemed to remember a couple hills that were not fun from the previous year.

Checkpoint 2

 After relaxing for 20 minutes or so, I proceeded on to the final stretch of the south leg of the course.  Miraculously, Callahan Road did not beat me down like it had the previous year, maybe due to having the wind out of the north rather than the south, and before too long, I was making the turn back to the north and heading towards Gothenburg, well almost.  I had one moderate hill to climb, and then that was the last of my climbing on the south leg, the only obstacle I would have to face was the stiff wind coming out of the north.  Thankfully, it wasn't too bad in the canyons, and coming out of the canyon into the Platte River valley, we headed southeast for a few miles before crossing the floodplain to the river and the campground that was Checkpoint 3.  Last year, the stretch along the irrigation canal was grueling with a bit of a headwind, but this year with the wind out of the north, I was able to cruise along this stretch.  Of course, when I had to turn back to the north, it wasn't as much fun.  Weirdly, though, my speed didn't suffer too much until the last half mile on Highway 47.  That last little bit felt like trying to push through a wind tunnel.  But nonetheless, about 2:20 I pulled into Checkpoint 3 with over an hour and a half to spare before the 4:00 cutoff.  When I pulled in to get my cue sheet for the north leg, it was again commented about how much better I looked than the previous year.  While some of it was knowing I only had 55 miles to go rather than 85 like I would've last year, the cooler weather helped a lot as well.  Even though I knew I had at least 10-15 miles due north into the stiff headwind right off the bat when I left, I was taking solace in the fact that I would be turning around and have that same wind at my back pushing me into Gothenburg for the final 10-15 miles.

Just before 3:00, I headed out to tackle the north leg.  I had been riding with a fellow from the KC area for most of the stretch after the second checkpoint, and I was planning on riding back out with him, but I didn't see him around race HQ and I thought that I had missed him, so I went out solo.  I got through town just fine, but as soon as the houses gave way to farm fields and the pavement went to gravel, my speed started going south, and there was 8 or 9 miles due north right into the wind as we left town.  On this stretch, I did get to see the race leaders come by me on their way back into town, but I was stopping to take a break every half mile for a while here.  Finally, after one last mile with a kick you while your down climb, the route turned to the east and I got a too-short break from the wind before the route headed north again.  After a couple more miles into the wind, I just stopped and chilled out under a tree for probably 5 or 10 minutes until I saw someone coming towards me.  It turned out to be the guy I'd been riding with earlier, so we teamed up again to work against the wind.  Thankfully, just a few miles down the road, we came to one of the water stops they had set up for us on the north leg.  My supply was actually okay at this point, but the almost park-like yard they had set up was super inviting, and the two of us chilled out for probably 20 minutes or so here.

Hills on the north leg.

Finally, we decided that we should continue on, and continued towards Checkpoint 4, about 8 miles away now.  Unfortunately, there was still about 3 miles into the wind, but after those 3 miles, we made a turn to the west, and then the south, and we were able to really pick up some speed.  About 6:15 or 6:30, we pulled into the final Checkpoint and took another break.  We didn't stick around here too much, with our water just having been topped off, but we did get a couple snacks and headed out for the final stretch.  Of course, there would be two more short northbound stretches, but for the most part, this last segment was going to be all downhill with the wind at our back.

Once we headed out, I noticed those northbound stretches weren't as tough as before.  Unlike at Dirty Kanza, where the wind seemed to blow all evening, now that we were going to have a tailwind, it was calming down.  GRRR!  Oh well, at least it didn't shift direction on us or something heinous like that.  Once we turned south, we started making pretty good time until we came to this one MMR that was like a giant sandbox.  Not the greatest bike handler, this brought me to a dead stop, and the guy I was riding with pulled ahead of me.  I figured that would be the last I saw of him.  Eventually though, the dirt firmed up a bit and I was able to ride again as the road dipped into what I thought was the most scenic part of the north loop, another road through a small canyon.

Of course, what goes down must come up, and climbing back out of that canyon was pretty tough, but once I was out, I was pretty much back into the Platte River flats floodplain again.  As it turns out, floodplain is kind of relative because looking at my Garmin, there was about 300' of vertical descent between the end of the canyon and the finish line.  Even the bottom of the canyon was about 200' above the Platte River.  The only thing that was going to slow me down now was some looser gravel on some of the roads leading back to town.

Now, with the sun getting lower in the sky, the temperatures cooling down, and Gothenburg starting to appear on the horizon, my adrenaline was kicking up,  and I started to just put my head down and pedal as much as I could to get back to town.  My main goal was to beat darkness now.  I had a light on me, but I didn't really want to fiddle with it and put it on.

Gothenburg!!

Eventually, the gravel gave way to concrete, and aside from stopping for traffic at one intersection, I was able to run the afterburners through town, and at 8:40, I crossed the finish line at the KOA Kampground and was able to bask in the glow of being an official finisher.  Chad Quigley, the race organizer, congratulated me, and his wife asked if I was planning on returning the next year.  At the time I was hesitant and non-committal (all I wanted at that point was to get off of my bike and sit down on a real chair!), but now, almost 4 months later, the itch is returning, and I think I want to go back next June.  I just need to push one of my teammates to go out there with me, so I have company on the drive out.  Team DSG puts on a great event, and while giant events with hundreds of riders can be fun, I kind of like the smaller nature of Odin's Revenge.  Sure, you might go for an hour or more without seeing anyone (especially later in the race), and that can be nerve wracking if something happens to you or your bike, but sometimes the solitude of being out in the wilds all by yourself is pretty cool.  We won't mention that I had my iPod playing in my ear for most of the race.

The race is slated for June 28, 2014, and if they follow tradition, registration opens February 14th.  As of right now, I'm planning on sending my postcard in that day for next year.  Word is there might be a completely new course.  I'm excited to see what they come up with.

I came (to Nebraska), I saw (lots of gravel), I (didn't quite) conquer: Odin's Revenge Recap

While the St. Louis area was baking in 100°+ degree heat last weekend (and most of this week as well), I escaped for the cooler weather of western Nebraska for the inaugural running of Odin's Revenge.  The race was starting at 6 AM Saturday morning, but there was a pre-race meeting Friday night at 7:00.  Since Google shows it being a 10 hour drive from my house to Gothenburg and I didn't want to be in a rush the whole time, I took off work early on Thursday to head out and split the trip into two days.  Luke from Team Virtus graciously offered to loan me some bags for the race, so I had to pick those up in Jefferson City.  I had also arranged to meet a former co-worker of mine in Kansas City for dinner that night before spending the night at a childhood friend's house in Topeka.  I don't get to travel much these days, so on the rare occasions I do get out, I have to kill as many birds as I can with one stone.  If I left Friday morning, I'm not sure I would've had time to do any of that on the way out.

After waking up bright and early Friday morning, I finished my drive out to Gothenburg, arriving around 5:30.  I checked in at the campground and received my racer packet, then went over to the hotel I was staying at to check in there before going back to the campground for the racer's meeting.  After getting into my room, I had a little bit of time to kill, so I found the grocery store in town and bought me some bananas, crackers, and peanut butter, which I hoped would tide me over for food during the race.  I also had a few Clif Bars and Honey Stinger Waffles that I brought with me from home.

Milling around before the meeting.

I was expecting somewhere around 75 people attending the race, because that's what the cap was listed at on the web site, but turnout at the meeting seemed a lot sparser than that.  As it turns out, as it became apparent that it was going to be much warmer than the average high of 87° for this time of year in Gothenburg, racers started bailing out.  The organizers said that 30-some people cancelled in the week leading up to the race.  It's their loss, as there was lots of goodies being given away as they explained everything that was going to be going down the next day.  As they were throwing stuff out, I managed to snag a Backcountry Research TulBag, some Salus Muscle Relief Gel, and a second sample of Climb On Intensive Skin Repair creme (one came in our goodie bags) that they were throwing out to the riders, then when they drew names for a pile of goodies they had on a table, I got a pair of Q7 Sock Guy socks.  Not a bad haul for a free race!

Afterwards, I went back to my room and started getting my gear out for the race, deciding what I would bring with me and what would be left behind.

Lots of stuff to bring with me!

I decided to stick with the the Tangle Bag and Gas Tank from Revelate Designs for supplies and left the Mountain Feedbag behind.  With my map case holding the cue sheet, I felt that having the Gas Tank and Mountain Feedbag would be too much in the cockpit area of my bike.

As you can see, there's a lot of gear on the bike.

To help ensure that my water would stay cold, at least at the start, I filled up the bladder Luke let me borrow and one of my water bottles with water, then put those in the freezer in my room.  I was planning on filling my bladder and the other bottle up with Sierra Mist in the morning.  At that point, I felt ready and went to sleep, setting my alarm for 4:40.

Morning came really fast, as I was sleeping GOOD that night.  Having full control of the thermostat worked wonders for my sleeping as I cranked it down to about 70°.  When I woke up, I went downstairs for something, I forget what, and discovered that they had breakfast out (the hotel crew was awesome for having stuff out at that ungodly hour), so I grabbed a quick bite to eat.  Going back upstairs, I pulled the bladder out of the freezer and was a little shocked at how much it expanded.  Whoops, basic physics lesson that I forgot!  At this point I started panicking since it wouldn't fit in the Tangle Bag, but it would fit in my backpack, so I threw it in there and decided not to use my bladder, since it wouldn't fit in the Tangle bag empty (my bladder has a hard back, so it's not that flexible).  I still had that and both water bottles, so I thought I'd be okay.  At this point, I decided that I would start with 1/3 of my waffles and Clif Bars, send 1/3 of them to the second checkpoint, and the other 1/3 of them to the last checkpoint.  I figured I'd stop by the hotel when I got back into town and eat the crackers and peanut butter for energy at the half way point. 

Go time!

About 5:30 or 5:40, I drove back over to the campground, lubed my chain, aired my tires as they called the 10 minute warning, then it was time to get going.  After the incident with the frozen bladder, I was starting to get nervous that I was in for a bad day (I felt like I was constantly rushing after that), but as we rolled out and I reset my odometer, I slowly started to feel better.  The one thing that I was surprised about at this point was how humid and foggy it was outside.  My thermometer was showing a cool 69°, but it was sticky, and I started sweating almost immediately after we rolled out, even though I wasn't hot at all yet.

Rain?!?!

About an hour into the ride, the sun was brightening things up a bit, but there was still a thick cloud cover, and then it started looking pretty gray off to the south.  I also heard a couple claps of thunder and was starting to wonder if I would get rained on.  I wasn't really worried, as rain (to a point) would be preferable over sweltering heat.  Obviously, a downpour would probably render some of these roads impassable, but I wondered if a little bit might just firm up some of the gravel, which was very loose in places since it's been so dry out there.  Unlike Missouri dirt which is mostly clay, there's a lot of sand in the dirt out here.  But alas, while I got hit with a few sprinkles, it was fleeting, and before long, I started seeing patches of blue in the sky.

I have to say, the scenery along this part of the course was amazing.  The Platte River Valley is as flat as a pancake and reminds me of Central Illinois (right down to the corn in the fields, but they need a lot more irrigation to keep it going out here), but once you get out of the valley, it's amazing how rugged and remote it looks.  I was surprised to even see this railroad trestle along the route.

Before long, I came to the first Minimal Maintenance Road, and at first it looked like it was someone's driveway, or more likely, a path to someone's pasture, but this road was part of our route.  At the top of the photo, you can kind of see a giant cut in the hillside.  I think that was the start of one of the tougher climbs we had, and before long, I was hiking up the hill.  Reading various accounts of Dirty Kanza, I saw some people mention how walking the tough climbs helped save them for later in the race as walking uses different muscles than cycling.  I took that advice and had a good half dozen hike-a-bike segments along the ride.  If they were paved, some of them I probably could've geared down and gotten up, but with the loose dirt, I was spinning out a little bit and decided it was just easier to walk.

First MMR (Minimal Maintenance Road)

It was around this time I had my first experience with several cattle grates as well.  These made me nervous enough to walk my bike over them at first, as those cross bars seemed just far enough apart to make riding across them sketchy, but by the end, I was just slowing down and taking it easy as I crossed them.

There were cattle gates all over the course.

Climbing that hill on the first MMR though, I was rewarded with this pretty awesome view from the top.  Going back down that hill was fun too, once I was fairly certain I wasn't going to be hit with any cattle grates coming up on me all of a sudden.

See for miles.

 About 9:30, I finally made it to the first checkpoint.  This was just a water stop, but Chad (the race promoter) and his wife were there with some yummy M&M Oatmeal Chocolate Chip cookies and protein balls (some mixture of peanut butter and nuts from what I could tell) as well!

Checkpoint #1

At this point, the sun was definitely starting to come out, and my temperature gauge, which was indicating 75° or so when I pulled in to the checkpoint, was rising well into the 80's if not 90 when I left.  It's amazing how fast sitting in the sun will elevate the temperature on that!  There was a group of five that I left with here, but over the next 8-10 mile stretch we separated and with the exception of having a couple of them almost catch me on one killer climb that I walked, I didn't see any other racers for a long time.  It was almost 30 miles to the next checkpoint, but along about mile 57 or 58, I came down a hill and saw a couple volunteers hanging out with their dog and taking pictures.  They also had some water or Gatorade.  I took them up on their offer of cold Gatorade, and replaced the water in my hydration pack with it.  It was pretty strong, but that was just fine.

Right after leaving this surprise water stop, I saw some cows blocking the road and starting to stare me down.  But as I continued to pedal slowly towards them, all of a sudden they turned and ran away from me.  This was about as fast as I've ever seen any cows move!  I'm not sure if I knew they could run like that!  In the picture on the right, you can kind of see one of them running away from me. 

From here, it was a pretty easy ride to Checkpoint #2, where I would be able to replenish my food stocks.  The volunteers manning this checkpoint also had a bike stand, so I was able to get some of the dust and dirt out of my drivetrain.  However, at nearly 70 miles into the ride, I was starting to feel it a little.  The heat, which had to be in the low 90's now (I think my bike computer was showing 113° when I left, but it "cooled" to 105° or so pretty quickly once I got moving), was taking a toll as well.  There was one guy leaving this checkpoint as I pulled in, but while I was there, none of the riders behind me came in.  I figured that I would be riding solo the rest of the way back to Gothenburg.

However, a couple miles out of the checkpoint, I briefly caught up with the guy ahead of me.  He was hurting a little worse than me, but as we ascended a couple hills, I had to slow down and walk one of them and he started to leave me behind.  Once we crested the hills though, I caught back up with him and we started to draft off of each other for the next few miles.  This stretch between miles 72-80 starting messing with my head though.  Up until now, the thought of not finishing hadn't really crossed my mind, but this 8 mile stretch on one road just seemed to drag on forever.  Looking at the map now, there was an early peak with a long gradual downhill to the next intersection, but there was a not-insignificant headwind along a lot of this road which made it tougher than it might have otherwise been.

(You can tell I'm getting tired now because there are no pictures from this section of the ride)

Finally, at mile 80, I turned back north and with an immediate hill, I decided to hoof it once again to the summit.  I was getting hungry now, and the Clif Bars and Honey Stinger Waffles weren't cutting it.  I felt like I was having a carbohydrate revolt and needed some protein in my system, preferably in the form of a cheeseburger or something like that.  The golden arches in Gothenburg were calling my name.  Nevertheless, once I crested this last hill, the course was downhill back into town.  What I wasn't quite counting on was a stiff headwind once I came out of the hills and entered the Platte River Valley.  Here, the course followed an access road to the Tri-County Supply Canal (as labeled on the USGS Topo), an irrigation ditch for the farms in the river valley.  This was good and bad.  The close water kept the temperature down a degree or two, but it was still hot, and with the headwind, I felt like throwing myself and my bike into that canal more than once.  A couple miles into this 5 mile stretch, I again caught up with the guy from a little earlier.  He said he was really hurting at this point (to where he wasn't planning on continuing), and again we blocked the wind for each other until we could finally turn north and cross the valley back to Gothenburg.


Getting out of the headwind was a huge relief to me.  At this point, the checkpoint was only about 4.5 miles away, and I just gave it everything I had to get back.  I wasn't sure if I was going to continue at this point, but I knew I wanted to sit down on something more comfortable than my saddle for a while.  However, as soon as I turned north, I could feel the temperature rise a couple degrees, which gave me that much more reason to get to the campground as fast as I could.

I made it back to the campground without further incident a little before 3:00.  There was a 4 PM cutoff where you would have to call it quits after that, so I had at least cleared that hurdle.  At this point though, I wasn't really feeling another 80 miles of riding.  While I rested for a bit, I grabbed a cookie or two and went in the general store at the campground to get a bottle of soda.  I was hungry, but none of the food in there looked really appealing.  I was also disappointed that the route was not using Highway 47 to get to the north side of town, so going back to my hotel room to get my supplies would add another mile or two that I didn't feel like riding.  Going to McDonald's would tack on yet another mile.  Ick.  So I waited to see what the riders coming in behind me were going to do.  If people coming in after me were still going out, that might push me a bit into continuing, but the only one who really wanted to finish had to fix a flat tire, and by the time he got that finished it was 4:15 or 4:30.  Going back out then was liable to make me finish around midnight, which I was hoping to avoid.  Even though I was carrying a 12 mph or so average to this point, I didn't want to count on anything over 10 for the last half.  So as 4:00 passed, I didn't hop back on the bike, and decided to call it a day.

Once I officially DNF'ed, I packed up and went back to the hotel and got cleaned up, then I went out to get dinner.  After driving around town to make sure there wasn't anything that looked interesting other than Runza, Pizza Hut, or McDonald's, I pulled into the Pizza Hut parking lot and ordered my dinner.  After a long day riding, it sure hit the spot.  Once I finished, I went back to the campground to hang out while the other finishers came in.  I missed the winner, who came in just before 7:00, but was around for the other 6 guys who came in, 5 solo and one part of a relay team.

I also immediately started regretting my decision to pull the plug (even more so when I saw as I started writing this that the high that day was 95° and not 98° or 100° like was predicted - it was hot, but it wasn't quite the sweltering heat we've had in St. Louis since I've been back), and when I saw the last 3 guys come in at 10:37, I started wondering if I could've caught them had I left the checkpoint right around 3:00.  I'm probably a little delusional for thinking that, but all I would've needed to do would be maintain an 11.5 mph pace with a 30 minute rest stop at the 40 mile point.  If a full hydration pack plus my 2 water bottles were enough water, and I didn't run into too many nasty hills or headwinds, 11.5 mph seems doable, but I also need to keep in mind I was struggling to do 10 along the flat canal where I only had a headwind.  Instead of hoping someone behind me was going to go back out, I probably should've asked how long it had been since someone had gone out in front of me when I got into the checkpoint.  That would've given me an idea as to whether or not catching someone was in the cards.

Now that I have two of these endurance races under my belt, I think I have a better idea of what I need to do to prepare.  At Cedar Cross, I never got around to preparing a drop bag, but since that one listed a gallon Zip-Lock in the rules, that's what I figured I was allowed to use here.  As it turns out, I could've filled up a small cooler, and maybe if I knew that was waiting for me at the last checkpoint, I would've been more inclined to push myself.  Or maybe I just needed to have that cooler in my car at the halfway point instead of my hotel room.  The one thing both races had in common was unseasonably warm temperatures, and with the way hot weather annoys me, that had as much to do as anything with me throwing in the towel.  It's just at Cedar Cross it was a blessing in disguise since my flat was due to a blown tire rather than a blown tube.  Today's high in Gothenburg was 89°.  I wonder what would've been different if the race were this weekend.  They probably would've had more than 25 starters, for one thing.

In closing, I have to say that I was impressed with the way this race was put on.  I'm sure there were some kinks to be worked out, but they got us started, they had the water stops that we were promised (along with some surprise treats!), the course was definitely a challenge (everyone who had ridden Dirty Kanza said this one was harder), and I was pleasantly surprised with the amount of goodies that were given away at the start of the race.  I can't say for sure that I'll be back next year to avenge my DNF, but if I can convince another person or two to go with me and split the travel costs, it's going to be very tempting.

Just as I Thought Cycling Was Easy: The Cedar Cross (a.k.a. How not to prepare for a self supported event)

I've been putting off doing this for far too long, probably because I've been too tired to do much writing the last week or so I still don't want to admit how much I failed to live up to my own expectations. 

Back to the beginning - after attending the first annual MLK weekend Berryman ride and discovering how good of a post ride party Team Virtus and the Hoosier Daddies can put on, I immediately signed up for the 100+ mile Cedar Cross, not even worrying that I didn't have a bike that was ideal for the ride.  There was no way the skinny tires on my road bike would be able to handle the gravel, and the 26" wheels on my mountain bike would be way slow with everyone else probably on either 29ers or CX bikes.  I mean, I'd just done 25 miles of Berryman in January and had done 50 miles on the KATY trail in a morning with my mountain bike, and I had 4 road centuries under my belt.  It couldn't be that bad, could it?

Fast forward to March, and I actually bought the CX bike that most people would probably be riding in the race.  While I immediately fell in love with the new bike (and relegated my Schwinn to the rafters in my garage), the brief stint of gravel on the century I did a week and a half before the race made me nervous enough to decide that even wider tires than the 700x33's that came on the bike were necessary.  The CAC and that century also both aggravated my knee that I had bruised in a low speed mountain bike crash at Castlewood last October.  I don't know if what I did at the CAC is really related to the fall at Castlewood (since there was no pain in the 6 months between the two), but it was the same part of the same knee that hurt.  So while I felt I had the base miles in to be successful at the Cedar Cross, doubts were starting to creep into my head.

After researching wider tires, and finding out that the LBS closest to my office only had tires as wide as 700x38's, I found a shop that had the 700x45's that Luke from Team Virtus said he was going to be using.  The day before the race, and an hour before the shop closed for the night (right after Super Kate dropped off her famous chocolate chip cookies), I headed over to it to pick them up.  My plan was to put them on when I got home, then spend some time cleaning up my bike and getting everything ready to go so that I could wake up in the morning and leave, just like I did for the century ride a week earlier.  However, when I got home, everything started heading south.  I pulled in the driveway to discover that my lovely wife had started to clean out the garage.

-I only add the next two paragraphs because I think they started a string of bad luck-

At this point, I'll admit that I'm a bad husband sometimes.  About 2 or 3 times a year (usually depending on how many big snows we get), I get nagged to hose out the garage, and I HATE doing it.  I usually fight it for a good month before I grudgingly drag my butt out there to do it.  This year, since we had 2 months of crazy warm weather in March & April, all of the kids outside toys were cluttering up the garage instead of the basement which made it that much more of a chore.  I haven't been able to park my car in there since mid-March.

Anyway, after earlier in the day in which she told her parents not to clean out their garage in the 90° heat, she was cleaning out our garage, which meant that I would have to take over doing that or keep the kids occupied and out of her hair.  I opted for kid duty.

After the garage was put back in order, I was finally able to put on my new tires.  Unfortunately, when I finally got them on, it was pushing 9:00, and I knew that I needed to get to bed since I had a two hour drive to Jefferson City the next day for a 9AM start.  I didn't have time to do much else in the way of bike maintenance that night, so I decided to set the alarm for 5:00, then wake up and finish preparing for the race.

I actually woke up closer to 5:45 because while I set the alarm on my iPod, I neglected to turn the volume up, so the alarm went off, but it didn't make any noise.  That meant I had to rush around even more to get ready and finally, I was ready to go around 6:30.   The drive to Jefferson City was uneventful, and I managed to get into town right around 8:30, about a half an hour later than I really wanted to.  I made a quick stop at a gas station to get a 2 liter of Sierra Mist and some ice for my water bottles and hydration pack, then crossed over the bridge to the park where we were starting.  I quickly got registered and changed, then got in the group for the pre-race meeting.

Coming into Jefferson City on US 50.

About 9:10, Bob fired up the truck that was going to be the lead out vehicle, and we were off.  I started off in the middle of the pack and I figured that soon enough I would either start passing people or getting passed.  I knew there were some really strong people out there and some others who I could probably hang with no problem.  Not long after we hit gravel though, I starting feeling my water bottle rubbing against my leg.  Uh-oh.  I looked down and the top screw came out of my water bottle cage, so it was flopping around as I was pedaling.  I pulled off and the pack immediately passed me.  Unfortunately, in my haste to pack, I did not have my multi-tool with me, and I had to flag down Luke and Adam who were sweeping the course.  Adam didn't have his multi-tool either, but Luke managed to find his and I unscrewed the other screw and put the cage and water bottle in my jersey pocket.  Great.  More weight on my back to carry around all day.

Once I got packed up, I rode with Luke and Adam for a while, but gradually started to pull away from them.  Eventually I even started to pass a few other riders as we made our way through the edge of Holts Summit towards the first piece of singletrack, which also happened to be the same pasture that I had hiked through during the CAC.  This time though, I didn't see any of the cows that were out there that weekend.  About halfway through the pasture, I saw a pickup truck with a few people hanging out around it.  As I got closer, I realized that one of the people was Todd from the Hoosier Daddies and their team had brought a keg of beer and some bottles of water out to hydrate the riders.  That was a welcome site!  The temperature was climbing pretty rapidly towards 90, and I wasn't about to turn down any cold liquids.  I also was able to give Todd my water bottle cage to take back to the finish line so I could get it out of my jersey.  I hung out there for several minutes while everyone bringing up the back of the race came in, and when we took off, there were about 15 or so of us that formed a pace line through the rest of the singletrack and back onto the gravel.

Refreshments!!

Once we hit gravel again, the pack started to thin out again and I found myself riding with Jim Davis of Team Seagal.  We'd only met maybe once or twice before at some GORC functions, but it was nice killing the miles talking to him.  After a while, we pulled into the first official rest stop, a church that had a water faucet in their yard.  At this point, I combined the Sierra Mist from my water bottles into one and filled up the empty one with some nice cold water.  I also downed the two packs of M&M's I picked up at the gas station in Jefferson City.  There was only 40 miles to the next place I could buy food, it wouldn't be that bad, right?  Not two miles after leaving that church, we were back on the second stretch of singletrack.  With the rain the area had a couple days earlier, this was still pretty muddy, and there was a lot of hike-a-bike through here, so what might've taken 20 minutes if it were dry wound up taking probably closer to an hour.

Creek crossing on the singletrack.

After finally exiting that section, we had about 3 miles on gravel before we crossed over this old bridge only wide enough for pedestrians and started climbing another section of doubletrack.  This was also familiar ground as it was where we exited the singletrack on the biking leg of the CAC.  Unfortunately, it was a lot soggier this time around, and coupled with the narrower tires on my CX bike, it made for a fair amount of hike-a-bike as well.  Fortunately, after we trudged through the muck, the Hoosier Daddies made another appearance with their beverage truck!  At this point (mile 35), we had about 15 miles to the next rest stop where our drop bags were, and 35 miles to the next stop with a convenience store.  While we were done with the singletrack until that rest stop, that also meant that we were going to be riding through a lot more open areas without much in the way of tree cover, so those 15 miles were hot!

Bike & Pedestrian bridge across Cedar Creek

While I was wishing I had more food with me by now, I also thought I was making pretty decent time, and I was still passing the occasional rider that was getting worn out in the heat.  Everything was going all right until I heard a loud POP! and saw my front tire go flat.  While I did have a spare tube and CO2 cartridge, I had also forgotten a CO2 applicator (the downside of having 4 bikes!) in another bike bag.  Fortunately, about this time I had a double stroke of luck.  Another rider named Dave and his wife pulled up about the same time, and Dave helped me air my tire back up while his wife, who was driving the course in a van with their 4 kids, offered to take me back to the start if I wanted.  I was getting to the point where I was thinking about heading back when I got to the rest stop anyway, so I graciously accepted his wife's offer and put my bike in the van and cooled off while we headed back to the park.

When I returned, the Hoosier Daddies were back grilling their famous bratwurst (see MLK Berryman report), so I ate a couple of those and grabbed a couple of the baked potatoes that were promised to all of the riders.  Super Kate's chocolate chip cookies were locked up at this point though, so those would have to wait.  It was getting to be about 3:00 now, so after refueling my body, I chilled out with some of the other people who DNF'ed and we waited for the winners to cross the line.  Just after 4:45 the first group of 4 came across the line.

The Cedar Cross Winners

I continued to hang out at the pavilion for a while, but I was starting to get thirsty for a soda or something like that.  Too much beer and I wouldn't be in any shape to make the two hour drive home.  Caffeine would also be good to keep me awake.  I hopped in my car and headed across the bridge back into Jefferson City, and immediately after getting off the highway, I saw this:

Snow Cones! (US 54 & Missouri Blvd)

It's not soda, but I love snow cones, and when I saw that stand, I had to stop.  I ordered me a strawberry one, and went back to the pavilion to eat it.  After I finished that though, it was after 6:00, so I had to start thinking about heading home.  As much as I wanted to stay until everyone finished, it was looking like I would be there well after 8:00 if I did that, and then I wouldn't be home until after 10:00 (as it turns out, the final group of 4 didn't come in until 11:00).  I decided to say my goodbyes and head out.  So while the ride didn't work out for me very well, Bob put on a really well run event, and I hope to give it another shot next year.  Hopefully, I'll prepare myself a little better next time.

Carnage at the Creek (CAC) Race Report

Last Saturday, I participated in my first adventure (non) race, Carnage at the Creek, presented by Luke and Bob of Team Virtus.  After experiencing the party they hosted back in January at the Berryman Trail (ride report here), I knew that this was not to be missed.  I wasn't real sure what I was getting myself into, but from reading their reports from other races, it sounded like so long as I could read a map (check), ride a bike (check), run in the woods (hmm...), and work some sort of boat (depends), I'd be okay.  Check in was between 7:30 and 8:30, and since Google estimated the trip time from my house at 2 hours, I set the alarm for 5 AM Saturday morning.

With the checklist of items to bring being about 3 times as long as I usually take on a bike ride, I had double and triple checked most of it the night before so that I wouldn't be rushing around half asleep and groggy while I was trying to get out the door.  I wanted to be able to just throw my bike on the car and go.  This actually worked out pretty well for me, and even J waking up about 10 minutes after me didn't slow me down much.  I spent about 10 or 15 minutes trying to get him to go back to sleep in his crib, but every time I would try to leave his room, he'd start crying for me again, so I finally had to take him to my bed and let him snuggle with my wife.

I was still able to be on the road by 5:40, so I was happy about that, and on the way out of town, I made two quick stops.  The first one was my office so I could grab some Cool Mint Clif Bars out of my desk to eat during the race, then McDonald's for breakfast.  The rest of the drive was pretty uneventful, though I did have a bit of highway hypnosis and almost missed the Kingdom City exit off I-70.  Good thing I was in the right lane and was able to swerve over just in time.  For some reason, even though I totally saw the sign, something didn't register until it was almost too late.

A little before 8 I arrived at the camp site where registration was underway and began to change my clothes and get my stuff ready.  It was a little cool, so I kept going back and forth on what to start off wearing, and initially I had on jogging pants over regular workout shorts and arm warmers under my bike jersey.  After everyone showed up, we had our pre-race meeting, where we were informed that there would be an initial bike leg to spread everyone out, then we would begin our trekking leg.

About 10 after 9, we were off, and I started out towards the front of the pack.  We were supposed to take a short stretch of singletrack, then cross a highway and follow some PVC pipe through a cow pasture.  Unfortunately, that was all I heard, so I was following Todd from Hoosier Daddies through the field and a gate onto some more singletrack that was marked with pink tape.  After a creek crossing, we climbed a hill and crossed into another pasture where all of a sudden there was nothing.  This is when alarm bells started going off that we had made a wrong turn.  Todd turned around pretty fast, but I stayed out in the pasture with Derrick of Orange Lederhosen and Kelly of Off Road Fixation and the three of us rode around for probably 20 minutes before we decided to head back.  When we got back to the highway, we saw Bob who was running out and trying to flag everyone down, but since we were at the front of the pack, he had missed us.  He showed the three of us where to go, and we continued on.  At this point, I let the other two guys go ahead of me, but I made another navigational blunder and missed the trailhead to get back to the singletrack which cost me another 4 or 5 minutes. While I didn't catch Derrick and Kelly before the transition, I did manage to pass two other teams that had some mechanical issues with their bikes, so I was in 11th place when I got back to the campground.

Being my first race, I was slow during the transition, and lost a spot coming out of it.  I almost lost my map as well, but Bob saw it and flagged me down.  Whew!  That could've been bad.  Now was the time to use the trail we mistakenly took into the woods on the bike leg, so I headed back towards the meadow where I turned around earlier and started searching for the checkpoints.  The first one was pretty easy to get to.  Dave and Tim from Tardy Rooster were just coming out of the woods as I was going into them from the field, and they warned me not to slip off the cliff when I found it.  A five minute trek through the trees later, I found my first checkpoint.

The view from CP 1.

Somehow, while I was going across the field across the highway from the campground, I managed to lose my pen (mental note: either get a real backpack or a Camelback that has room for more than just your water supply), so I decided to take pictures of the CP's until I could get back to my car for a replacement.  Here was the first one.

A close up of the marker.

Looking at the map, it looked like it was going to be a pretty good hike to the other three points.  I opted to head for number 3 next via the open fields rather than trying to cut through the woods.  With the distances between these checkpoints, I was happy I had decided to bring my iPod with me.  The podcasts I had loaded on it definitely made the time pass more quickly. 

Cows in the pasture

The primary downfall of using the pasture was the presence of a herd of cattle that I had to come within a few yards of, along with all avoiding the minefield of droppings they had left throughout the field.  When I got close to a couple of them, they gave me a wary look and one mooed at me disapprovingly, but fortunately, none of them charged at me.

CP 3 was in a creek valley that descended off of one edge of the pasture, so I went into the woods to cool off in the shade, thinking that I would just follow the creek bottom until I saw it.  However, the more I looked at the map, the more I thought it was on the edge of the hill rather than along the creek, so I routed a path along the middle of the hill, hoping I'd be able to see it.  After walking a fair amount past where I thought it should be without seeing it, I decided to go back down the the creek.  When I got to the bottom, I saw a spot that looked scenic enough to be a spot for a CP, but there was no CP around.  At this point, I started to think that maybe I'd misread the map and I was in the wrong creek valley.  Since I only had a little over an hour to get back to the campground for the bike leg, I was ready to give up with only finding the one CP.  Just then I saw Derrick again and asked him about CP 3.  He said it was indeed along the creek, but it was further upstream and I had already passed it.  I headed back up to where he said it was and sure enough, there it was.  Team Wahoo was also in the area searching for that CP, and they followed me down towards it.  Thankfully, they had a pen for me to use, so I didn't have to try to get another picture of the marker on this CP.

Waterfall near CP 3.

 Team Wahoo had started by searching for CP's 2 & 4, so they still had to go back and get the first one.  They invited me to tag along with them over to get it, but they were going to just try to head towards it in a straight line through the woods and the valleys.  I thought I'd be able to make better time in the pasture where the elevation changes were minimal, so I declined the invite and headed back to the campground to start the second bike leg.  By now, it was dangerously close to 1:00, and there was a 1:40 cutoff for the hiking leg.  Looking at the map, it looked like it was about 2 miles back to the campground, so I knew it was doable, but I didn't have a lot of room for error.  I turned on one last podcast and started back.  The trip back was uneventful, and I made it into the transition area at 1:33.  Whew!  I was disappointed that I had not gotten all of the CP's, but I was hopeful that maybe other people had missed some too.

Back in the transition area, I asked Bob if I was in last place.  To my surprise, he said it was in the middle of the pack (7th to be exact), even after I admitted to not getting all of the CPs.  Once the bikes came into view, I was surprised at the number of them still at the campground.  The cutoff was only 7 minutes away, but there had to have been about a dozen bikes there.  I made a slightly faster transition this time, and didn't loose any ground in the standings during the transition. 

The first part of the bike leg was a welcome relief.  My feet were getting really tired, and it was good to be on the pedals.  Also, this area had some pretty decent singletrack.  There were a few hike-a-bike areas, but most of it was nice and flowy.  CP 4.5 (a late addition) was on the backside of an abandoned building, and after that point, there was a decent to a pretty wide creek crossing. 

This creek wasn't real deep, but boy was it wide.  As you can see from the pictures, there were a lot of rocks right at the surface, so I tried to cross hopping from rock to rock, hoping not to soak my feet.  I got about 90% across, but then there just weren't any good stones, so my last 2 or 3 steps soaked my feet.  Oh well.  I hoped my socks had enough wicking material to dry out sooner rather than later.  At this point, I also wouldn't have been surprised if there were more creek crossings to come. 

Immediately on the other side of the creek, I had a choice to make.  I could follow the trail to CP 5, or I could take a gravel road.  Looking at the elevation profiles of the two options, I immediately opted for the road.  There was one big hill to climb, but given the hills I deal with around my house on a daily basis, it wasn't bad.  It was gravel though, and at one point, I spun out and had to walk the bike the last couple hundred feet to the top.  Once I hopped back on, I had about a mile to ride before I arrived at CP 5. 

After CP 5, the gravelly goodness ended and it was back to singletrack.  On the map, the path to CP 6 didn't look too bad, it just appeared to be a long steady descent along a creek valley before climbing a hill at the very end to the CP.  Once I got rolling though, it was a different story.  This area had been beaten to shreds by horse owners than had ridden the trails when they were too wet.  I don't know how many times I was on and off the bike through here, trying to get around post holes and generally nasty areas.  At this point, I realized how spoiled I am living here in St. Louis where we have the members of GORC taking care of our trails.  I don't know how many times I came to a section of trail and thought, "GORC would never build a trail like this!"  There were just a lot of soft spots that either needed to be rerouted or armored with rock in this area.  Unfortunately, if the horse riders outnumber the bikers in this part of the state, it'll be difficult to get the manpower to fix it. 

At any rate, a little more than halfway down the trail to CP 6, I came up on Steven of Lonesome Drifters, who was starting to think he was lost (apparently, he and Kelly were riding together when Kelly took another path because he wasn't sure if he was on the right path), but I was pretty sure we were still where we were supposed to be.  After riding for a half mile or so, we came to another creek crossing and saw Bob sitting on a rock making sure the riders followed the right path.  At that point, we just had to climb up on the bluff to get to CP 6.

The view from CP 6.  At this point, my memory card was full, so that's it for the pictures.

While we were resting, Kelly rode up behind us, and then the three of us headed of to CP 7, another mile or so down the trail.  Just minutes after we left CP 6, Todd from Hoosier Daddies came at us from the opposite direction, convinced we were going the wrong way.  After we explained that we had just come from CP 6, he turned around and we rode to a junction in the trail.  Todd was certain that he'd been straight at the junction, and we needed to turn right, so we made a fateful right turn, than sent us into a giant loop that got all of us turned around with no clue where we were.  Finally, after about 20 or 30 minutes (most likely even longer - I wouldn't be surprised if it knocked us off course for close to an hour), we arrived back at the same spot where we made that turn, and went the other way.  My instinct when we were first there said we probably should've gone straight, and looking back I should've been more assertive (lesson of the day - don't trust anyone navigating).  By this point, I was the slow one of the group and they had all gone ahead of me, but when I arrived at CP 7, Steven and Kelly were still there, along with a young couple that was hoping to get some quiet time together.  It was a pretty spot to hang out, but I don't think they expected to have several adventure (non)racers coming through all afternoon.  I got a quick drink of water, and left with them on our way to the other late addition, CP 7.5.  Fortunately, there was only a little bit of singletrack left, then we had about 5 or 6 miles of gravel roads to the winery that was the checkpoint. 

Right after we got off the singletrack, Kelly got a flat, but he said he had everything, so Steve & I pushed ahead.  At this point the terrain was pretty rolling, so my strategy was just to coast on the downhills, then gear down and spin on the climbs as much as I could.  It must've worked pretty well, because it wasn't after two or three of these hills I looked back and didn't see him at all.  Maybe I'm a better climber than I realize after all.  It must be all of the hills around my house that I dread on every local ride.  Finally I reached the winery where Emma from Orange Lederhosen was watching the checkpoint.  I asked if it was time to put my bike on her car rack, but she said nope, there was another mile or two to Little Dixie Lake Conservation Area where we would be rowing for the final leg.  I hopped back on my bike and headed over there.  When I arrived, Luke said they were out of rowboats, so I grabbed a drink and waited until someone came back with a boat.

Finally, a couple that was out fishing came back in and I hopped in the boat and was pushed off.  It's been a while since I've done any kind of paddling or rowing, so I was zigzagging a lot at first training myself on the proper way to turn the boat.  There were three checkpoints on the lake, two on the opposite shore and one on the near shore.  I headed to the opposite shore first.  As I arrived at the first checkpoint, Steve, who had been given a kayak, caught up with me and then left me in the dust on the way to the second one.  When I then saw Team Wahoo coming behind him, I knew I needed to kick myself into gear a bit.  Fortunately, by now I'd gotten my rowing technique down as well.  While they passed me between the second and third checkpoint, I managed to almost stay with them on the way back to the base to where they only beat me to the shore by a few minutes.  Since my clock was stopped for 15-20 minutes while I was waiting for the canoe, I was able to hold on to a 6th place overall finish.  Given that my stated goal was not to finish last, I was extremely happy with where I placed overall.

While I waited for the last two teams to come in, I refueled my body with some delicious baked potatoes provided by Luke & Bob and Super Kate's famous chocolate chip cookies.  To quench my thirst, there were jello shots and a cooler full of blue moon.  We hung out at the lake until the sun went down, then Bob led an awards ceremony where I was awarded the Strength and Honor Achievement Trophy (a very nice bike light) due to my completing the rowing leg solo.  While Todd and Steve went solo in kayaks, I was the only one who attempted the rowboat solo, which really impressed the judges.  I have to admit though, that seemed like the easiest part of the race to me.  After killing my legs for over 8 hours hiking and biking (I could barely walk after I got off my bike), chilling out in the rowboat rowing to those checkpoints for an hour and a half was a cakewalk.  Granted I looked like a fish out of water at the beginning, but once I figured out the motions, it wasn't horrible out there. 

It was an awesome (non) race, and I intend to be back next year.

Lost Valley Luau Recap

Each year, Mesa Cycles puts on a race at Lost Valley called the Lost Valley Luau.  Two years, ago, the thought of signing up for it crossed my mind, but at the time, I knew I would be way overmatched.  The original date in the spring also got rained out and it was rescheduled for Father's Day, which turned out to be about 90-95° with stifling humidity and bugs that would eat you if you stopped anywhere for more than a second.  At any rate, I decided to do a charity ride with my parents and in-laws that day on the KATY Trail on that day.  My wife was pregnant with my son at the time, so she drove the SAG wagon.

Last year, I really wanted to do the race even though I knew I would still be overmatched, but the original date got rained out, and the make up date in June was rained out as well.  I at least was able to get my feet wet in the racing scene though, participating in the last installment of the Dirt Crit series at Castlewood that The Alpine Shop sponsored.


This year, when the racing schedule came out, I circled last Sunday on my calendar and crossed my fingers that it would be dry.  Through most of March, I was feeling pretty good about the race happening, and the trails have been in excellent shape all spring with the obscenely warm weather we've been having.  Unfortunately, as race day came closer, it was looking like rain might ruin the day once again.  A week out, they were predicting rain almost every day from Monday through Thursday, though clear Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.  Then they moved the rain back to where Saturday and Sunday would be clear.  Then about Monday or Tuesday, they were saying it would rain Friday and Saturday with clear skies on Sunday.  By Wednesday, it hadn't rained a drop yet and that night Greensfelder was mostly dry on the east side, with some muddy sections in the dips on the west side trails from a deluge we had received last Saturday.  This is when fortunes started to change.  The 2" of rain that was threatened for the area Wednesday night and Thursday morning turned into about 0.2" and all that materialized on Friday was some localized showers, though I hear Lost Valley was under one of those for a while.  The rain stayed away on Saturday, and that afternoon word came out that the race was on!

Parking lot starting to fill up.

The Cat 3 race started at 9:30, so about 8:30, I left my house so I could get to the area with some time to spare.  Arriving at the mound parking lot, it was about as full as I've ever seen the place, but I found the registration table and signed up.  It was only a little after 9 at this point, so I rode up and down the road to the Army Reserve center behind the mound a couple times to get the blood flowing as it was a little chilly (about 60°), though still really warm for the end of March.  Gradually, people started lining up at the entrance to the Hamburg Trail where the start line was going to be, so I migrated towards the group and waited for the instructions.  There were about 70 of us between the Marathon, Cat 3 and Junior classes.  We were starting at the same time as the Marathon class, so at 9:30, they got their signal, then 2 minutes later we got ours, and the Juniors were 2 minutes behind us. 

Coming down the Hamburg Connector. Credit Karena Romstad.

Not really knowing what to expect in regards to my competition, I found a spot in the middle of the pack as we took off down the Hamburg to the drop off into the back side of Lost Valley.  I was immediately relieved that I wasn't blown away at the start line, and started to pick up my pace to get around as many people as I thought I could before we got to the cut-off.  I've ridden out here enough to know where my strong and weak spots are, and the gravel is most definitely my strong suit.  My hope was to go as well as I could on the gravel and the flat singletrack, then just try to survive the descent to the first dry creek crossing and the tougher singletrack after that. I hoped to then make up time on the next gravel stretch and hold my own on the final stretch of singletrack that I've gotten pretty good at before trying to haul as much as I could on the open stretch to the finish line.

Another shot on the connector descent.  Credit Karena Romstad.

 Coming down the connector descent, I was again pleased that I was only passed by one person, and I think I may have passed a couple of other people.  The hill has a lot of loose gravel, and people had warned that the rains of the week before had washed a lot of it out and rutted it up a bit.  I usually ride the brakes pretty hard coming down here, but the I didn't quite have the death grip I usually do and the looseness of the gravel may have slowed me down a bit as well.  The reward of getting to the bottom here is an immediate climb back up to the top of the next ridge, and this seemed a LOT more washed out than I remembered.  Maybe this is what the reports were warning about.  It's also been a long time since I've actually climbed this hill though, so maybe my memory is getting fuzzy.  I continued to hold my own though, and even passed another rider or two.  At this point, I think I was probably in the top third of the racers.  

After getting to the top of the hill, we entered the newest stretch of singletrack at Lost Valley, which I have a bit of a love - hate relationship with.  I love it because it's flat and can be fast in places, but I hate it because of some of the turns in this area are filled with baseball sized rocks that can beat you to death and make it easy to wash out if you aren't careful.  Soon after I entered the singletrack, I came up on one more rider.  After deciding that I could go faster than he was, I made the move to pass and was cruising until...

Going around one of those rocky turns, I went a little wide and slammed my left pedal into a small tree.  Fortunately, I stayed on the bike, but I was shaken and some of the life was sucked right out of me.  I pulled off to let what I thought was 2 people pass me, and as I turned around, about 5 riders whizzed right by.  DOH!  Once I saw a hole, I got back on the trail and continued on.  As soon as I got moving again, I immediately noticed that my pedal was not just moving up and down, forward and back like pedals are supposed to do, but it was also moving left to right a bit.  Not good!  To make matters worse, this was right at the end of the part I'm good at, and next up was the descent to the first creek crossing.  I made it down all right, but at one of the switchbacks, I pulled off to let yet another rider by since I knew I would be slow at the crossing itself.  Seeing someone bloodied up at this crossing last summer can go a long way towards making you tentative for a while.  I made it up the other side without any problems and then there was one more technical area that I struggle where I was passed yet again.

While that was the last area in that section where I was really stuck, there are some twisty uphill climbs before I got back to doubletrack, and I continued to lose ground on the pack through this area.  By the time the course widened out, the last rider to pass me was far enough ahead that I couldn't see them at all. At this point, my stamina was starting to fade more than I would've liked, and while I know I've ridden this stretch at 15-20+ mph in the past, it was tough to even get to 15 on a lot of it.  This is probably where I need to learn to drink at speed a little better.  I had a full bottle of water with me, but I'm not sure I'd taken two drinks of it at this point.  Finally, at the end of the stretch of doubletrack, the rider in front of me was starting to come into view.  Unfortunately, this would be short lived as the upcoming section of singletrack was quite a bit softer from the recent rains than I would've liked, and I was slowed down by some slippery rocks and a few muddy areas.

Not me, but this is one of the better views of the creek crossing.  Credit Dennis Fickinger.

There was one semi-bright spot through this area though.  Coming up one the other creek crossing that has always given me trouble, I heard someone say, "You need to keep your speed up if your going to make that crossing!"  At that point my mindset went from stop and dismount like always to let's see if we can make this.  So I kept pedaling, made it across the creek and up on the rock armoring on the other side until my front wheel got stuck in a gap between a couple of the rocks.  So while I didn't totally clear the crossing, that was about the best I've ever done there.

Me after the crossing.  I think you can see a grin from my quasi-success.  Credit Dennis Fickinger.

After making it through that crossing, there was one last small ridge to climb up and over, and the climb was again harder than I remembered, but at this point, it could've been one of about four things - my pedal, not drinking enough, lack of stamina, or the dampness of parts of the trail.  Let's just say the downhill to the final creek crossing felt really nice.  After making that crossing, I got tripped up on a root on the other side, but then it was time to go as hard as I could for the last mile to the finish.

On the finishing stretch.  Credit Karena Romstad.

By now, as hard as I could go was down to about 10-12 mph given the slight incline in the terrain.  Valleys are tricky like that.  What looks flat can have a few percent grade hidden by the hills on either side of you that are much steeper.  But then when you're pedaling through it, you wonder why you can't go any faster than you are.  There's definitely a 3-5 mph difference in speeds for me going one way versus the other through here.

Almost done! Credit Karena Romstad.

 But I toughed it out, and made it to the finish line in 59 minutes and change, which seems to have put me fifth out of 8 in my age group, which is better than I thought on race day.  I initially thought there were only 5 in my age group, and I was last.  Hopefully, I'll get an exact time at some point soon.  It's been a been a while since I've just done the standard Lost Valley loop, but I think that's about as fast as I've ever made the trip.  Well, since I've never ridden it without stopping somewhere along the trail, I know that's the fastest I've ever made it around the loop.  I didn't reset my odometer before the race, but I think it was a 10.5 mile course and if I did it in 59 minutes, that would give me a 10.5 mph average and I'm almost positive that's about the fastest moving average I've ever achieved over the loop.  Usually I'm happy if I'm close to 10 mph.  All in all, it was a great event (the Qdoba and Pabst Blue Ribbon at the finish made it even better), and I was happy I decided do it, even if it did put my bike in the shop for the next week to get repaired.  I'll just have to ride on the road until I get it back.