Last Saturday's brevet was only my fourth 400K. Preferably, I would want to be well rested going into it. This time, I really wasn't. I had to get up at 4:30 AM on Monday and Friday during the workweek before, and then I had to get up at 4:00 AM the morning of the ride. Also, I didn't sleep very well most nights that week simply because of to-be-expected nerves during my job transition. Nevertheless, because there are only two 400Ks on the Georgia randonneuring calendar this year, and I can't make the second one, I bit the bullet to do the Athens-Augusta-Athens 400K even in my fatigued state.
Five of us gathered at the SpingHill Suites on the outskirts of Watkinsville: Chad G., Chad H., Graham, Robert N., and me. Chad is definitely the statistical mode of the names of my cycling friends. I've come to the conclusion that if your name is Chad, you're an excellent cyclist. Conversely, if you're an excellent cyclist, your name isn't necessarily Chad.
Within a quarter mile, Graham turned back to get something he forgot. The other four of us continued on. Somehow I became the de facto navigator. The sun hadn't come up yet, and I couldn't see my bike computer screen because I had minimized the back lighting time-out to save as much battery juice as possible. Nevertheless, I thought I had the first part of the route memorized. I was wrong. In downtown Watkinsville, we were supposed to turn left onto Simonton Bridge Road. I had us go a block farther and turn left on Barnett Shoals Road. We realized our mistake fairly soon. We could either backtrack or ride a few extra miles and loop back into the correct route. Robert said that it's psychologically harder to backtrack. So we rode an extra 5.8 miles instead. Wow. That's so much better.
I hoped that would be our greatest excitement of the day. The ride was, in fact, rather uneventful - yet pleasant - for quite a while. Chad H. powered ahead early on, leaving Chad G., Robert, and me to ride together. After discussions about politics and religion, I suggested that we talk about sex. Thus, I yelled, "Monkey butt!"
There was an info control at mile 30 (actually mile 36 for us because of the early extra miles), but the first real stop wasn't until mile 90 (actually mile 96 for us) in Norwood. We were ready for a break!
I headed out a few minutes before the guys to find a nature break spot. Honestly, most of the time I prefer the woods to a convenience store restroom. As I got back on my bicycle, I noted with amusement the important role that duct tape plays for us randos. Here, it's holding my bike computer charger to my frame to keep it from rattling, and it's securing my fork to my can of sardines:
My two companions soon caught back up to me. Most of the next section of the route was out and back to Augusta (actually Evans). By the time we got to the next control at Publix, Chad G. and I were starting to pull ahead of Robert. Chad G. and I took a shorter break than Robert and got back on the road. Robert was able to hook up with Graham at Publix. Chad H. had already left this control a little before Chad G. and me.
Chad G. started fading as he and I rode toward the next control in Thomson. He's obviously a very strong rider, and he outrode some of the more experienced randonneurs at the 300K a few weeks ago, but this was his first 400K. That's a big step up. Still, I hoped that he would keep riding steadily.
After Thomson, Chad G. was feeling pretty rough. On the other hand, I got a second wind, so I pulled ahead. I don't know if it's the Coke I had in Thomson, the fact that one of my most alert times of day is around 6:00 PM, or I've simply gotten more accustomed to ultra distances. It's probably all three. Regardless, I felt great on the 32-mile stretch between the controls in Thomson and Washington. I figured it wouldn't last the rest of the ride, and so I enjoyed it while it was there.
Before I got to Washington, I was riding on a quiet, rural road. (Actually, most of the roads on this route were quiet and rural - beautiful!) I saw some cows that had gotten out in the road. They got spooked as I rode by, running alongside me for a short distance. I looked for a person at the adjoining farmstead but didn't see anyone. Fortunately, I was able to flag down a neighbor about a quarter mile down the road. She called the cows' owner. Later, I was talking with my rando buddies about the cows, who simply thought the cows were chasing them. Although I grew up a city slicker, I'm glad my father-in-law, who is a farmer, taught me about cows getting out.
At the Huddle House control in Washington, I was ready for something more akin to a real meal. A waffle and some bacon hit the spot. However, the Coke I ordered tasted terrible. Sure enough, it turned out to be Pepsi. They can't trick me! I got a Mountain Dew instead.
Chad G. got to the Huddle House pretty soon after I did. He ordered food but looked like he was about to fall out. Then Graham arrived. I was fueled and ready to go, and so I headed out solo. The sun had just about set. I was on schedule to finish somewhere around midnight.
Earlier in the day when my Garmin battery got low, I turned on my charger and gave the battery a good boost. Now my Garmin battery was getting low again, and the charger was used up. I had wanted to bring a backup bike computer, but I never was able to get the route to upload to it. Then, I intended to bring a second charger, but I accidentally left it at home. So it was time to go to my backup backup plan. You always need one of those in randonneuring. When my Garmin battery finally gave up the ghost, I started the Strava app on my phone to collect the remainder of my ride data. (Fortunately, I had charged my phone back at the Huddle House.) To navigate, I used my cue sheet, which I read with the extra front light that I mounted on my handlebars. (I had brought the extra front light as a backup to my dynamo wheel hub.) Because I didn't have a way to mount the cue sheet, I put it in my pocket. I memorized a few turns at a time and then stopped to memorize a few more. My little system worked well. Until it didn't.
At about mile 231 (which should have been about mile 225), I took a wrong turn. Later, when I studied what went wrong, I determined that my mistake was due to a change in road name that wasn't noted on the cue sheet. On the other hand, it might simply have been the late hour (about 11:00 PM) and my growing fatigue. I wound up taking an out-and-back side jaunt to Colbert. By the time I realized my mistake, mapped a route to get back on track, and got on the correct road to the next control, I had ridden about 7 more extra miles. Along with the wrong turn first thing that morning, I rode 13 extra miles total. That put me nearly an hour behind schedule. Major bummer.
But there was a light at the end of the tunnel. When I finally got to the last convenience store control in Athens, there was Graham! He was looking and feeling strong and invited me to ride the remaining miles with him. I was happy to do so. Not only was it nice to have a companion for the last bit (he really helped keep me going!), but I got to accompany him as he finished his first 400K. We arrived at 1:17 AM. Another great example of randonneuring camaraderie!
I had enough adrenaline to get me part way through the hour-long drive home. When I started getting sleepy, I pulled over for a short nap in my car at the Morgan County landfill. I have done work there, which is why I picked that spot. It was only later when I was telling a friend that I realized this sounds a little odd.
The next day (well, actually later the same day) I had to go grocery shopping. The only other things on my agenda were resting, reading, and drinking wine. Remember how Gilligan's Island started with a three-hour tour? I had a three-hour nap. A three-hour nap.
Five of us gathered at the SpingHill Suites on the outskirts of Watkinsville: Chad G., Chad H., Graham, Robert N., and me. Chad is definitely the statistical mode of the names of my cycling friends. I've come to the conclusion that if your name is Chad, you're an excellent cyclist. Conversely, if you're an excellent cyclist, your name isn't necessarily Chad.
Within a quarter mile, Graham turned back to get something he forgot. The other four of us continued on. Somehow I became the de facto navigator. The sun hadn't come up yet, and I couldn't see my bike computer screen because I had minimized the back lighting time-out to save as much battery juice as possible. Nevertheless, I thought I had the first part of the route memorized. I was wrong. In downtown Watkinsville, we were supposed to turn left onto Simonton Bridge Road. I had us go a block farther and turn left on Barnett Shoals Road. We realized our mistake fairly soon. We could either backtrack or ride a few extra miles and loop back into the correct route. Robert said that it's psychologically harder to backtrack. So we rode an extra 5.8 miles instead. Wow. That's so much better.
I hoped that would be our greatest excitement of the day. The ride was, in fact, rather uneventful - yet pleasant - for quite a while. Chad H. powered ahead early on, leaving Chad G., Robert, and me to ride together. After discussions about politics and religion, I suggested that we talk about sex. Thus, I yelled, "Monkey butt!"
There was an info control at mile 30 (actually mile 36 for us because of the early extra miles), but the first real stop wasn't until mile 90 (actually mile 96 for us) in Norwood. We were ready for a break!
I headed out a few minutes before the guys to find a nature break spot. Honestly, most of the time I prefer the woods to a convenience store restroom. As I got back on my bicycle, I noted with amusement the important role that duct tape plays for us randos. Here, it's holding my bike computer charger to my frame to keep it from rattling, and it's securing my fork to my can of sardines:
My two companions soon caught back up to me. Most of the next section of the route was out and back to Augusta (actually Evans). By the time we got to the next control at Publix, Chad G. and I were starting to pull ahead of Robert. Chad G. and I took a shorter break than Robert and got back on the road. Robert was able to hook up with Graham at Publix. Chad H. had already left this control a little before Chad G. and me.
Chad G. started fading as he and I rode toward the next control in Thomson. He's obviously a very strong rider, and he outrode some of the more experienced randonneurs at the 300K a few weeks ago, but this was his first 400K. That's a big step up. Still, I hoped that he would keep riding steadily.
After Thomson, Chad G. was feeling pretty rough. On the other hand, I got a second wind, so I pulled ahead. I don't know if it's the Coke I had in Thomson, the fact that one of my most alert times of day is around 6:00 PM, or I've simply gotten more accustomed to ultra distances. It's probably all three. Regardless, I felt great on the 32-mile stretch between the controls in Thomson and Washington. I figured it wouldn't last the rest of the ride, and so I enjoyed it while it was there.
Before I got to Washington, I was riding on a quiet, rural road. (Actually, most of the roads on this route were quiet and rural - beautiful!) I saw some cows that had gotten out in the road. They got spooked as I rode by, running alongside me for a short distance. I looked for a person at the adjoining farmstead but didn't see anyone. Fortunately, I was able to flag down a neighbor about a quarter mile down the road. She called the cows' owner. Later, I was talking with my rando buddies about the cows, who simply thought the cows were chasing them. Although I grew up a city slicker, I'm glad my father-in-law, who is a farmer, taught me about cows getting out.
At the Huddle House control in Washington, I was ready for something more akin to a real meal. A waffle and some bacon hit the spot. However, the Coke I ordered tasted terrible. Sure enough, it turned out to be Pepsi. They can't trick me! I got a Mountain Dew instead.
Chad G. got to the Huddle House pretty soon after I did. He ordered food but looked like he was about to fall out. Then Graham arrived. I was fueled and ready to go, and so I headed out solo. The sun had just about set. I was on schedule to finish somewhere around midnight.
Earlier in the day when my Garmin battery got low, I turned on my charger and gave the battery a good boost. Now my Garmin battery was getting low again, and the charger was used up. I had wanted to bring a backup bike computer, but I never was able to get the route to upload to it. Then, I intended to bring a second charger, but I accidentally left it at home. So it was time to go to my backup backup plan. You always need one of those in randonneuring. When my Garmin battery finally gave up the ghost, I started the Strava app on my phone to collect the remainder of my ride data. (Fortunately, I had charged my phone back at the Huddle House.) To navigate, I used my cue sheet, which I read with the extra front light that I mounted on my handlebars. (I had brought the extra front light as a backup to my dynamo wheel hub.) Because I didn't have a way to mount the cue sheet, I put it in my pocket. I memorized a few turns at a time and then stopped to memorize a few more. My little system worked well. Until it didn't.
At about mile 231 (which should have been about mile 225), I took a wrong turn. Later, when I studied what went wrong, I determined that my mistake was due to a change in road name that wasn't noted on the cue sheet. On the other hand, it might simply have been the late hour (about 11:00 PM) and my growing fatigue. I wound up taking an out-and-back side jaunt to Colbert. By the time I realized my mistake, mapped a route to get back on track, and got on the correct road to the next control, I had ridden about 7 more extra miles. Along with the wrong turn first thing that morning, I rode 13 extra miles total. That put me nearly an hour behind schedule. Major bummer.
But there was a light at the end of the tunnel. When I finally got to the last convenience store control in Athens, there was Graham! He was looking and feeling strong and invited me to ride the remaining miles with him. I was happy to do so. Not only was it nice to have a companion for the last bit (he really helped keep me going!), but I got to accompany him as he finished his first 400K. We arrived at 1:17 AM. Another great example of randonneuring camaraderie!
I had enough adrenaline to get me part way through the hour-long drive home. When I started getting sleepy, I pulled over for a short nap in my car at the Morgan County landfill. I have done work there, which is why I picked that spot. It was only later when I was telling a friend that I realized this sounds a little odd.
The next day (well, actually later the same day) I had to go grocery shopping. The only other things on my agenda were resting, reading, and drinking wine. Remember how Gilligan's Island started with a three-hour tour? I had a three-hour nap. A three-hour nap.
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