This was the second year of the Wild Chicken 100, held in Fitzgerald, Georgia. I saw a Facebook post about this year's event. Between the wild chickens that wander around downtown Fitzgerald and the opportunity to ride on dirt roads in a different part of the state, it sounded right up my alley.
Friday Night Festivities
Originally, I thought I would be going to the Wild Chicken by myself. I was going to get up early and make the 2-hour-and-15-minute-drive from Monticello the morning of the ride. Happily, Robert decided to go, too. We decided to drive down the night before and stay in a motel - much more fun and civilized.
We headed south after work on Friday. First, we stopped for dinner in Macon. We often go to Macon for dinner on Friday night anyway. This time we went to the Rookery, one of my favorite restaurants and one we hadn't visited in a while.
The Rookery makes the best hamburgers in Georgia. Seriously, if you're in Macon, check them out. They have over a dozen versions, named for Georgia musicians and other famous Georgians like Jimmy Carter. I had been thinking about one of my usual Rookery hamburger selections, but I wasn't so inclined that way after we had beef patties with Robert's 'rents at lunch that day. Instead, I opted for OutKast's Stankonia at the Rookery. This used to be one of the excellent burger options, but this was the first time I had had it since they switched it to chicken. Specifically, it's fried chicken, Mrs. Griffin's Hot BBQ Sauce, Swiss cheese, collard greens, and crisp country ham. It's so good it'll make you run down the road and slap people!
Coincidentally, just the week before at the Macon Cherry Blossom Festival, I had had my photo taken with a bottle of Mrs. Griffin's BBQ Sauce:
After our visit to the Rookery, it occurred to me that it was appropriate to eat chicken instead of a hamburger on my way to the Wild Chicken 100.
Robert and I got to our simple but clean and comfortable motel in Fitzgerald before 9:00 PM. We got 8 1/2 hours of sleep. Woo hoo! We even woke up before the alarm went off. A good night's sleep is an all-too-rare occurrence for me before a big cycling event.
Chickens and Trains
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| I got one of these as a souvenir |
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| Chickens and trains - what better combo? |
It was fun to see my off-road cyclopeeps Jason and Mark. We sat together at breakfast along with Melanie and Sue from Tallahassee. When Melanie asked me where I'm from, I said, "Monticello." Her eyes lit up, and so I quickly added, "Georgia." I realized that I was far enough south that I had to specify Monticello, Georgia as opposed to Monticello, Florida.
Melanie and I compared notes on the Dirty Pecan, an annual epic dirt ride out of Monticello (Florida!). I rode it two years ago. She rode it this year and described the nearly unridable conditions, saying the roads were like hummus. I love that! It's kind of a foodie version of peanut butter roads.
Back outside, I met a guy with a fat-tire unicycle!
He was doing the 30-mile option. I can't imagine riding a unicycle even one mile, much less on dirt roads!
I also saw my cyclopeeps Ray and Benny, who were doing the 30-mile, mixed terrain option like the unicycle guy. They were taking it easy on two-wheelers, though. (Ha ha!)
As Robert and I waited for the ride to start, I reviewed the settings on my Wahoo. He recently made the switch from Garmin to Wahoo and thought I might like Wahoo better, too. I try not to be averse to change, but I'll admit I'm pretty comfortable with Garmin. One of the biggest incentives for me to try Wahoo is that the battery life is supposed to be much longer than Garmin, which will be a benefit on brevets.
This was my first ride using Wahoo for navigation. (I've used it several times simply to record ride data on familiar roads.) Another woman standing near me overheard us talking and said that she and several others at the ride work for Wahoo. Wahoo! (It's based in Atlanta; supporting a Georgia company gives me even more incentive to consider the switch from Garmin to Wahoo.) I figured that if I had any trouble with my Wahoo during the Wild Chicken, at least I'd have technical support right there :)
Everyone lined up for the mass start.
Last year three people did the Wild Chicken 100. This year, there were 62 riders! I'm excited for organizer David Dark. He is doing a great job promoting cycling in his part of the state.
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| I rode with my bird flu chicken. |
Ride On! (If You Can...)
Robert and two other guys went off the front as soon as our police escort ended at the edge of town. Robert was racing it, partly as preparation for the state gravel championship two weeks later and partly because he treats most rides as races.
My plan was to ride at whatever pace felt comfortable. I was there simply to enjoy the day. Soon, Jason, Mark, and several other riders joined me, including Megan and others from Wahoo.
All of us had been keeping an eye on the forecast. It had rained a good bit during the night, but it was only overcast at the start of the ride. The chance of rain wasn't greater than 50% until mid afternoon, and so I was hopeful that we might avoid it altogether. Alas, that was not to be. However, it worked out about as well as it possibly could have.
Ten of us were riding together, following our Wahoos, of course. We turned from one dirt road onto a smaller one. This became a dirt path. We didn't suspect it might not be the right way until we got to the edge of a field of crops - no way we were supposed to ride through that. We stopped to consult maps on our phones and determined an easy reroute to get back on track. In the meantime, the menacing cloud that had been looming on the horizon was getting closer. One of the guys looked at the radar and said we were about to get a heavy but brief downpour. We decided to take refuge in an equipment barn adjacent to the field.
A few big drops hit us as we scurried under cover, and then the bottom fell out. We chilled, eating some snacks and checking out the cool peanut cars that can be hooked together like train cars:
One of the best parts of the ride was hanging out with this sweet old dog. He seemed very glad for our group's company.
The rain didn't last too long, and soon we were back on our way. Later, we learned that during his Facebook live event earlier in the week, David had told everyone about the route miscue to the crop field. It's a good thing none of us had watched his Facebook event because we would have avoided this wrong turn and not had such a perfect place to wait out the storm.
The 100K (62-mile) route had two rest stops. The first was at about mile 18, not long after the stop at the barn. Our group of 10 was already breaking apart due to the gloppy roads. I decided it would be easier not to stop at the first rest stop because I didn't know if I could get going again. Having plenty of food and water, I really didn't need a stop yet anyway.
The roads got more and more...interesting. We rode in peanut butter, hummus, partially set Quikrete, and I don't know what else! So much for a relaxing day on the bike. My goal became simply to keep going and, ultimately, finish.
We could see the tire tracks of the few guys who had gone off the front early. This section of road tickled me because turkey tracks paralleled the tire tracks for a long distance. It may not have been a chicken, but it was poultry in motion!
Somewhere along the way, I got ahead of Jason and Mark. I wasn't trying to drop anyone; it was simply a matter of keeping going in the least laborious manner possible.
On some stretches, my wheels got caked in mud, and I could barely maintain enough friction to keep turning the pedals. Then, I'd get to an easier section, and big globs of mud would fly off in all directions. I kept going.
I went through nearly a quarter mile of deep sand. There's a section like this on the Middle Georgia Epic where I almost always have to walk my bike. Somehow, on the Wild Chicken 100, I managed to pedal all the way through without walking. As I got near the end of this section, I realized that I was almost there and was determined to finish it. Channeling Dan Rather, I told myself, "Steady."
The second rest stop was at about mile 42. David's in-laws were staffing this spot. They graciously offered me an array of water, Gatorade, and snacks. David's father-in-law even hosed down my cyclocross bike for me. I was tempted to decline because I didn't want him to go to any extra effort, but I'm glad I accepted. That probably helped me get through the remaining gloppedy glop. There was plenty more to come.
I was wondering if I would ever see another paved road. At last, I did get back to pavement, and I was pretty sure the sloppiest parts were over.
As I approached Fitzgerald, I out-sprinted a few dogs. I rode through downtown but got slightly turned around on my way back to The Depot. I stopped to check Google Maps on my phone. It took me a couple of minutes to reorient myself, but I figured out that I had taken an extra turn where I shouldn't have. Just as I was about to start off again, I realized that a funeral procession was passing me. Although I was right at an intersection where I needed to turn, and the procession was heading straight, I figured the least I could do for the deceased person was to stay put for a few minutes until all the cars passed.
I made it! Robert greeted me in the parking lot with a big smile. He couldn't believe I had finished it and that I was still in pretty good spirits. He had had derailleur problems and had to take a shortcut back on paved roads. I think I'm just more stubborn than he is.
I gratefully ate some of the pizza and chocolate cake available for us riders inside The Depot. I enjoyed chatting with David's wife Melissa and several other riders. It sounded like the 30-mile option didn't have nearly the muck that the 62-mile option did. Maybe I should have ridden the 30-mile route twice. D'oh!
Robert's and my first visit to Fitzgerald was during the 1994 Bicycle Ride Across Georgia (BRAG). I enjoyed learning a little of the city's history then. Developed in 1895, it was an early planned city with streets laid out in a grid. More notably, it intentionally brought together both Union and Confederate veterans from the Civil War. I bought a BRAG T-shirt in Fitzgerald in 1994. It became part of the first T-shirt quilt I had made, consisting of T-shirts from cycling and running events from Robert's and my courting and early married years.
Thank you to David, Melissa, Melissa's parents, and all of Fitzgerald for your warm hospitality at the Wild Chicken 100! I plan to make it a lot less than 25 years before I come back to ride, but next time I'll make sure the dirt roads are dry :)
A few big drops hit us as we scurried under cover, and then the bottom fell out. We chilled, eating some snacks and checking out the cool peanut cars that can be hooked together like train cars:
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| These cars were filled with nice pine straw bales. |
The rain didn't last too long, and soon we were back on our way. Later, we learned that during his Facebook live event earlier in the week, David had told everyone about the route miscue to the crop field. It's a good thing none of us had watched his Facebook event because we would have avoided this wrong turn and not had such a perfect place to wait out the storm.
The 100K (62-mile) route had two rest stops. The first was at about mile 18, not long after the stop at the barn. Our group of 10 was already breaking apart due to the gloppy roads. I decided it would be easier not to stop at the first rest stop because I didn't know if I could get going again. Having plenty of food and water, I really didn't need a stop yet anyway.
The roads got more and more...interesting. We rode in peanut butter, hummus, partially set Quikrete, and I don't know what else! So much for a relaxing day on the bike. My goal became simply to keep going and, ultimately, finish.
We could see the tire tracks of the few guys who had gone off the front early. This section of road tickled me because turkey tracks paralleled the tire tracks for a long distance. It may not have been a chicken, but it was poultry in motion!
Somewhere along the way, I got ahead of Jason and Mark. I wasn't trying to drop anyone; it was simply a matter of keeping going in the least laborious manner possible.
On some stretches, my wheels got caked in mud, and I could barely maintain enough friction to keep turning the pedals. Then, I'd get to an easier section, and big globs of mud would fly off in all directions. I kept going.
I went through nearly a quarter mile of deep sand. There's a section like this on the Middle Georgia Epic where I almost always have to walk my bike. Somehow, on the Wild Chicken 100, I managed to pedal all the way through without walking. As I got near the end of this section, I realized that I was almost there and was determined to finish it. Channeling Dan Rather, I told myself, "Steady."
The second rest stop was at about mile 42. David's in-laws were staffing this spot. They graciously offered me an array of water, Gatorade, and snacks. David's father-in-law even hosed down my cyclocross bike for me. I was tempted to decline because I didn't want him to go to any extra effort, but I'm glad I accepted. That probably helped me get through the remaining gloppedy glop. There was plenty more to come.
I was wondering if I would ever see another paved road. At last, I did get back to pavement, and I was pretty sure the sloppiest parts were over.
As I approached Fitzgerald, I out-sprinted a few dogs. I rode through downtown but got slightly turned around on my way back to The Depot. I stopped to check Google Maps on my phone. It took me a couple of minutes to reorient myself, but I figured out that I had taken an extra turn where I shouldn't have. Just as I was about to start off again, I realized that a funeral procession was passing me. Although I was right at an intersection where I needed to turn, and the procession was heading straight, I figured the least I could do for the deceased person was to stay put for a few minutes until all the cars passed.
I made it! Robert greeted me in the parking lot with a big smile. He couldn't believe I had finished it and that I was still in pretty good spirits. He had had derailleur problems and had to take a shortcut back on paved roads. I think I'm just more stubborn than he is.
I gratefully ate some of the pizza and chocolate cake available for us riders inside The Depot. I enjoyed chatting with David's wife Melissa and several other riders. It sounded like the 30-mile option didn't have nearly the muck that the 62-mile option did. Maybe I should have ridden the 30-mile route twice. D'oh!
Robert's and my first visit to Fitzgerald was during the 1994 Bicycle Ride Across Georgia (BRAG). I enjoyed learning a little of the city's history then. Developed in 1895, it was an early planned city with streets laid out in a grid. More notably, it intentionally brought together both Union and Confederate veterans from the Civil War. I bought a BRAG T-shirt in Fitzgerald in 1994. It became part of the first T-shirt quilt I had made, consisting of T-shirts from cycling and running events from Robert's and my courting and early married years.
Thank you to David, Melissa, Melissa's parents, and all of Fitzgerald for your warm hospitality at the Wild Chicken 100! I plan to make it a lot less than 25 years before I come back to ride, but next time I'll make sure the dirt roads are dry :)
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