Little White House 200K Brevet
The first big ride this month was the Little White House 200K brevet. This route makes a loop from Griffin to Pine Mountain and back. The ride along the Pine Mountain ridge is lovely. Because there aren't any convenience stores near there, ride organizer Ian always has a wonderful picnic for the riders at the Franklin D. Roosevelt State Park office.
Although I've visited the park office a number of times, I had never noticed this Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) statue until that day. I have a special affinity for the CCC and the role it played in US history. As a bonus, this CCC guy took his shirt off. He's like the Fabio of the Depression.
During this ride I also learned a little more about the geology of the Pine Mountain ridge. It's an anomalous mountainous area surrounded by the rolling hills of the Piedmont. Geologically, it's part of the same formation as the Appalachian Mountains. The mountains have worn down across the Piedmont, but the tougher rock of the Pine Mountain ridge has remained, leaving a tail-like outcropping much farther south of the Appalachian foothills. Furthermore, the Flint River has cut a gorge through the Pine Mountain ridge. Although we didn't visit it on this ride, the most spectacular view of the gorge is at Sprewell Bluff, which is now a county park.
Later in the ride there was a bridge out on Cove Road, but it was the easiest bridge-out crossing I've ever encountered - no creek wading! I posted this photo on Strava, and a friend asked if I did that to the road. I said yes, that's roadie shredding.
The excellent riding was made even better by my good rando buddies Julie and Dick. We rode at a steady yet very comfortable pace. Let's just say that my other big rides since then have been a little more tiring...
Athens-Augusta-Athens 400K Brevet
Woo hoo! This was my 400K qualifying brevet for PBP. A brevet is never as easy as lying on the sofa eating bonbons, but for a 400K, this one was pretty manageable. I rode with Ian the whole time and with Brad for about the first 75 miles.
Ian is a scientist, and I'm an engineer, and so when the two of us ride together, it's like a mini nerdfest. It had been a while since I had ridden with him, and so when I started telling him a math joke, he reminded me that I had already told him that one. Then, he started telling me a math joke that I had already heard. I said that we should simply number our jokes, so that one of us could say, "Number 6," and then we'd both start laughing because we already knew the punchline.
That night after the sun went down and Ian and I were both tired, I thought it might energize us to laugh a little. I randomly said, "Number 4," and Ian cracked up. That was better than the original jokes.
A 400K has a time limit of 27 hours. Ian and I finished in 18 hours and 1 minute, which is a pretty peppy time for a 400K. Although the only thing that mattered was being within 27 hours, you'd think we could have broken 18 hours. I guess I shouldn't have told so many Family Feud stories while we were having lunch at the control in Augusta.
MATHCOUNTS
This isn't a cycling event, but it's why I didn't do a major ride the third weekend of this month. MATHCOUNTS is a nationwide middle school math competition program that I've enjoyed volunteering with for many years. I'm the state MATHCOUNTS coordinator. The week (and particularly the weekend) before the state competition is always hectic anyway, but this year I had to change the venue only 10 days before the competition. Yikes! Fortunately, everything went smoothly. I'd even say that this was one of the best state competitions we've had. Everyone - students, coaches, and volunteers - really seemed to have fun.
Even with lots of MATHCOUNTS work that weekend, I was able to ride for a couple of hours that Saturday. Robert planned a dirt ride, which he called the Ocmulgee Bluff Box o' Chocolates, to help prepare for the Fried Clay 200K the following weekend. Although I didn't have time for Robert's full four-hour ride, I decided to join him and the other guys part-way through when they stopped at The Vanilla Bean on the Monticello square.
My ride had a variety o' flavors. First were Earl Grey and lemon poppy seed, as in tea and muffin at The Vanilla Bean. Then there was hot potato, as in the guys dropped me like one within two miles of leaving The Vanilla Bean. Good thing I hadn't planned to do the entire route!
Fried Clay 200K
One good thing about all these other big rides plus major work responsibilities this month is that I was too busy to get very nervous about the Fried Clay 200K. I knew that being on dirt, it would be harder than a regular 200K brevet. Little did I know...
The event started at Cedar Creek Checking Station, the same staging area as for the Red Clay Ramble. This is only about 10 miles from our house, and so Robert and I didn't have to get up super early - around our regular workday wake-up time. By the way, a lot of Fried Clay participants camped out Friday and/or Saturday night. In fact, many made it a two-day event, bike-packing and riding at a party pace.
I planned to race the Fried Clay. Race pace is relative. I knew that I wouldn't be able to keep up with a lot of the guys; my strategy was to ride as steadily fast as I could for about 10-12 hours. I estimated it would take me about this long because a 200K brevet, which is on pavement, usually takes me around 9 hours. The Fried Clay route was about 85% off-road, which meant the going would be significantly slower.
I opted for some of Robert's Infinit to help meet my nutrition needs. That way I could get calories while drinking on the bike, meaning fewer stops. I also carried several Clif Bars, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and an apple cut up. I wore a vest solely to have extra pocket space. Using the same strategy as on brevets, I planned to eat something about every 1 1/2 hours.
One notable aspect of this race is that I wore my glasses instead of my contacts. I had never done that for an entire ride or race. It was my preemptive strike at the pine pollen. For nearly the whole month of March, pine pollen gets into my contacts while I'm riding, making my eyes incredibly painful. Usually, I borrow Robert's prescription cycling sunglasses for these few weeks, but he wanted to use them himself on the dirt roads of the Fried Clay. Fortunately, a lot of the route was pretty shady, and so I did fine without dark lenses. Best of all, no eye pain!
Between all my endurance riding and the route being on my home turf, I was as prepared as I could expect to be. Even so, I was nervous. I saw my friend Katie and knew that she would be competition.
Only a few miles into the race, I passed Katie. She had gotten a flat. That was a bummer, but I had to use it to my advantage. I kept riding steadily.
After a while, I settled into a good groove with Paul and Rusty, two nice guys who were riding at about the same pace as me. They mentioned a woman named Molly who was with the front group. Hmm. I wasn't really surprised to hear that there was a woman ahead of me, but that put a severe dent in my hopes of winning the race. Still, kudos to her if she was able to stay with the front guys! I'd just keep riding my best.
We rode through the Piedmont Wildlife Refuge (PWR), one of my very favorite places. As expected, there were about half a dozen creek crossings in the PWR. I managed to ride through the first one. Woo hoo! My luck (i.e., skill) ran out after that. I didn't even try to ride through the subsequent creek crossings, which all were deeper. One of them had a fairly steep climb on the opposite side. Although I had downshifted before getting off my bike and walking through the water, I didn't have the strength and balance to start riding up the climb immediately. I had to walk a little way to a slightly flatter spot. I laughed to myself - aren't those squats I've been doing at the gym supposed to help in situations like this?
A few miles from Juliette, we picked up another guy named Jack. The Whistle Stop Cafe in Juliette was the first of three places where we had to take a selfie in front of a sign to show that we were there. Usually, I'm adamantly against selfies, but I was wiling to follow the race rules. Unfortunately, I was too uncoordinated to get myself and the sign in a picture together. Fortunately, someone from the long line of people waiting to get into the Whistle Stop was nice to take a photo of me. We laughed that with my lack of selfie skills, I'm definitely not a millennial. Nope, I'm smack dab in the middle of Gen X.
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| That's Paul on the right, enjoying a mid-ride burrito. |
Paul and Rusty headed on while I took a few extra minutes to eat a Clif Bar. Jack and I headed out together. He said the Fried Clay would be his longest ride ever. Yea! I'm always excited for people taking on bigger challenges.
After Juliette we rode along the Ocmulgee River on River Road. It had a lot of ruts. I knew to expect them, but they seemed to slow Jack down. Being in race mode, I pulled ahead of him. I also had the added incentive of needing to finish before dark (around 7:45 PM) because, foolishly, I forgot to bring a front light.
I got to Highway 83, turned right, and shortly thereafter turned left onto the next dirt road, Smith Mill Road. Less than a mile later, the route turned onto a Forest Service road with a gate across it. As I approached the gate, I ran into Sigmund and the Sea Monsters.
Actually, it was several guys in ghillie suits; Saturday was the first day of turkey season.
In addition to having the route on my Garmin, I knew that this was the correct route because Robert had pre-ridden this section and mentioned that there was a gate here. As I lifted my bicycle over the gate, Sigmund said, "I don't think you're supposed to go in there." I replied, "We have a permit. We're doing a race." I zoomed on my way.
I had never ridden on this Forest Service road. It passed through a recently clear-cut area, and then it became a delightful trail through the woods. This was fun!
Soon I got to the most challenging part of the route: the single track. Robert's recon really helped me know what to expect. He said that the toughest parts are the descents and ascents on the rooty, technical hillsides leading to and from the river, but on the floodplain next to the river, it's a lot easier. That's exactly what I found. Despite being a roadie, I did OK even on the hilly part. In fact, I shredded the gnar.
Recently, my rando buddy Wayne and I have been laughing at the lingo peculiar to mountain bikers. Here's my truly back-of-the-envelope sketch of a mountain biker pirate:
International Talk Like a Pirate Day is one of my favorite holidays. Arrr! It's every September 19th. This year I can use my cool Fried Clay 200K patch to be a mountain biker pirate myself. Gnarrr!
Particularly as I rode next to the river, I was aware of a unique aspect of races like this. The beauty around me was stunning. In the last few weeks, the Oconee National Forest has come alive: redbuds, Carolina jasmine, dogwoods, spring green foliage... At the same time, I was riding too hard to be able to take everything in. It was like everything was at the periphery. I was only partially aware.
Pat, our most excellent Fried Clay organizer, had given us specific instructions about encountering horses on the trail. He said if you see any horseback riders, get off your bike and ask the riders how they want you to proceed. I particularly wanted to follow proper trail etiquette because I don't want to give us cyclists a bad name.
I saw my first couple of horseback riders as I rode near the river. I stopped and asked what they wanted me to do. They were very friendly and said I could keep riding. Their horses had become somewhat desensitized to the cyclists that they had already encountered. Whew.
I made it through the single track. Woo hoo! It was even kind of fun. But wait! There's more!
I rode less than a mile on Smith Mill Road, and my Garmin told me to turn into the Ocmulgee Bluff Trailhead parking area. Oh, yeah. Then I remembered that Pat had said there were actually two single track sections. Time to put my head down and keep going.
As I rode through the trailhead parking lot, I saw some more horses. The people with them said it was fine for me to ride past. Soon after I got onto the next section of trail, here came another group on horseback - and even one mule with a bandana on its head! I immediately pulled over and stopped. One of the riders told me to keep talking so that the horses would know I was a human and wouldn't get spooked. That was a good tip that I didn't know before.
All through this section, I was singing "Horses, horses, horses" in my head.
I saw one last, large group of horseback riders. They were taking a lunch break on a pretty hillside. I got off my bike and asked them if I could walk past them. They said yes. I was talking, talking to the horses, trying not to scare them. I was so intent on the horses that I didn't realize my friend Hollie was in the group! She took this photo and sent it to me later.
An hour and 45 minutes after my initial turn off of Smith Mill Road, I was finally back on regular dirt roads. The single track wasn't as bad as I had expected, but I was ready for some easier riding. Like all things in the Fried Clay, however, easier is relative...
I was glad it was only a few miles to New Hope Church, where I could refill my bottles. Along the way, I saw my good rando buddy Brian! He was riding at more of a party pace, and even though he was on a mountain bike, he had stayed on Smith Mill Road and skipped the single track.
I got to New Hope Church and couldn't find the outside spigot. Ack! The good news is that these roads are my regular stomping grounds, and I knew that Freedonia AME Church was only a few miles farther. Fingers crossed that there would be water there...
Brian and I pulled into Freedonia Church. I spied a hose, a good sign that maybe there was a spigot somewhere. I circled around the building. No spigot, no spigot... Then, on the last side I checked, barely visible through the bushes - score! That was a critical water refilling point because I'm not sure what options I would have had for a long time after that. Buoyed by finding water, I said goodbye to Brian and continued on with renewed energy.
I entered the PWR for the second time. I felt pretty good, but the first signs of fatigue were starting to set in. Was I really only a little more than half way there? The familiarity of the roads around Hillsboro gave me a little boost.
Hadaway Hunt Camp was the second checkpoint. I took the required selfie at the sign, grabbed the two extra bottles of Infinit that Robert had stowed there for me, and got back on the road as quickly as I could. As I was rolling out, here came my rando buddy Graham and...Katie! Good for her that she was back in it after her flat. But she wasn't that far behind me. Molly might still be ahead of me, but I decided to do my best to stay ahead of Katie regardless. That gave me a good incentive during the remaining miles. The last 50 miles were billed as the easiest, but by that time I was so tired that nothing was easy.
I had looked forward to riding on Jackson Road near Round Oak, a fantastic dirt road that I rode on for the first time only about six months ago. Alas, because of my riding intensity, I was unavoidably semi-oblivious to the surrounding beauty.
Soon I was on the Red Clay Ramble route, only in reverse for the Fried Clay. As I rode past a house on N. Cross Road, I saw two girls playing outside. One of them called out, "You can do it! We believe in you!" Wow, did that make my day! I called back, "Thank you! That helps a lot! I really needed that!"
I had studied the route ahead of time. Although most of the last part was the Red Clay Ramble backwards, I thought I had noticed some different roads, like Christmas Lane. Robert had said no, it's just the scale of the map. I wasn't so sure...
I trusted my Garmin. It said to take a right from 5th Road onto Stallings Road. I was pretty sure the Red Clay Ramble route backwards would have been a left turn at that point. Continuing to follow my Garmin, I got to Christmas Lane a few miles later. Yes, I was convinced that the Fried Clay had a few unfamiliar roads here toward the end.
Was I whooped! I had to tell myself that I had finished long, challenging, exhausting rides before, and I could do it again. I knew I needed calories, and so I made myself eat another Clif Bar, even though it tasted pretty barfy at that point. Keep pedaling, keep pedaling...
Now I was definitely back on the Red Clay Ramble route, backwards. Here came the Bridge of Death. At least it used to be the Bridge of Death in the early years of the Red Clay Ramble until the bridge was repaired. That meant I had about seven miles left. I could do this...
Only about five miles to go. I definitely would finish before sunset! Miraculously, Firetower Road didn't seem as long as I remembered. It seemed like no time before I passed Dumas Road; I was in the final stretch.
Yea! I finished! I snapped a photo of my Garmin, showing my finish time, and the third requisite selfie at the Cedar Creek Wildlife Management Area sign. That was a dang hard ride! And I've done a lot of hard rides.
By the way, it's a good thing I trusted my own judgment on that additional loop at the end of the route. Robert just assumed the last part of the route was exactly the Red Clay Ramble backwards, and so he missed a few miles and couldn't get an official time. That's especially a shame because he raced his heart out. He got off the front and pretty much time-trialed the first four hours. Even though he got caught, he would have been among the first few finishers if he hadn't missed the extra loop.
Molly, who was originally with the front group of guys, bailed somewhere along the way. Also, I beat Katie by only 10 minutes! The moral of that story is never give up!
Looking Toward PBP
Last Sunday evening, I went to Atlanta for a Paris-Brest-Paris (PBP) powwow with my rando buddies. Brad arranged this on his and my behalf. He and I will be doing our first PBP this year, and we are all ears when it comes to advice from PBP veterans like Andy, Brian, Cynthia, and Joe. The veterans shared photos and all kinds of valuable tips. I took lots of notes.
I was able to preregister for PBP in January. Currently, I'm in the process of qualifying, which involves doing a 200K, 300K, 400K, and 600K brevet between January and July 1 of this year. I've already done my 200K, 300K, and 400K. This weekend I'm doing my 600K.
At the end of the Fried Clay, Robert said he didn't see how we randonneurs can go farther than 200K. I explained that a brevet is a totally different type of event. You don't go nearly as hard. Not to mention, it's on pavement. Perhaps most importantly, it's not a race. You just have to finish within the prescribed time limit.
Even so, a 600K is admittedly a big undertaking. I've done two 600K's before. Both have taken me around 34 1/2 hours. Although I'm a little nervous about this weekend's 600K, I'm even more excited about it because it will be my last PBP qualifying brevet! When I inevitably get tired this weekend, I'll remember that I got through the Fried Clay last weekend; therefore, I can get through the 600K.
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