At the beginning of 2020, I made a list of activities I wanted to do this year. Some have had to be postponed due to the pandemic, but I got to complete one of them this past Saturday: the T. rex ride - RAWR!
I follow Pecan City Pedalers (PCP), a cycling club in Albany, GA, on Facebook. I think a friend added me to the group, but I've enjoyed keeping up with fellow cyclists in another part of the state. It's been worth joining if only because they posted the T. rex route about 18 months ago. The roads trace the outline of a T. rex! This route has been on my radar screen ever since.
The T. rex route is about 200 miles long. When PCP did the T. rex ride at the beginning of 2019, they divided the route between several cyclists and completed it in one day. I'd been thinking I might divide the route in two with an overnight motel stay (bonus if I could get Robert to accompany me on any of the route). However, when COVID-19 hit, I didn't want to stay in a motel. Instead, events converged to allow me to do the entire T. rex ride by myself in a single day.
As I've described in recent blog posts, Hudson Valley Randonneurs has been hosting the 2020 Virtual Brevet Series (VBS), which has been a fun and motivating way to ride long distances while official RUSA events have been canceled because of the pandemic. The VBS originally was from March 28 through May 31. Then, when RUSA cancelled June events, too, George Swain extended the VBS through June 30 and super-sized some of the awards. I had already completed the regular vSR series by riding a 50K, a 100K, a 150K, and a 200K. The Super vSR series added a 250K and a 300K. I did a 250K a few weeks ago (see 6/11/20 blog entry). By doing T. rex as a single ride, I could get my 300K for the Super vSR series. Additionally, George offered the Longest Day Challenge, doing your longest ride of the year on the longest day. I can do a 300K in around 13 hours, well within the number of daylight hours on the summer solstice in Georgia. Therefore, T. rex had a threefold purpose: fulfilling my 300K requirement, serving as a great Longest Day Challenge, and allowing me to do a ride I'd been wanting to do anyway.
It had been several months since I got up at o' dark thirty for a ride. I switched the starting point of the T. rex ride to Vienna, GA, the closest point on the route to the interstate. (By the way, in Georgia it's pronounced VY-enna.)
I parked in the Vienna City Hall parking lot, which is right on the route. I figured no one would mind, particularly on a Saturday. This also provided an excellent photo opp:
Vienna sausages were a nice change of pace for a mid-ride protein source.
Additionally, I had a few special accouterments for the ride. I don't usually wear jewelry on bicycle rides, but I had to make an exception this time:
This was my riding companion because chickens are the closest descendant of dinosaurs today. Although my chicken has bird flu, at least he doesn't have COVID-19.
I rolled out shortly after sunrise. It was a beautiful morning with temperatures in the 70s and no wind. I was glad to be back in Southwest Georgia, which I don't visit very often. It's primarily farmland (row crops) and much flatter than the hilly Piedmont where I live. That means I could ride faster. Overall, the roads were in great shape with little traffic.
And then - surprise! There was a dirt road at about mile 23, at T. rex's hand. Having studied the route ahead of time, I thought I could continue on the current paved road to U.S. Highway 280, turn right, and pick up the original route. This would make T. rex's arm longer, however, which kind of defeated the purpose. Therefore, I turned right onto the prescribed dirt road. At first I could ride on the hard-packed, silty, clayey soil. Later, however, I had to hoof it through the sections of loose, sandy soil. The road was about 4.8 miles long, and I had walk about a mile of it.
Back on pavement, I soon rolled into the lovely town of Leslie. A nice woman said hello as I rode past her house. I thought about the Georgia Rural Telephone Museum, which is located in Leslie. Interestingly, it's not open on weekends although I wouldn't have wanted to take the time to stop during this ride anyway. Maybe I can go back sometime on a weekday.
This isn't as pretty as in real life, but I rode by the most pleasant pecan orchard on the way out of town:
100K in, I was ready for a short break. I sat under a big, shady tree in Leesburg (the heel of T. rex's foot), had a snack, and gave my feet a breather. My legs were decorated from the earlier dirt road:
To minimize store stops, I carried most of the provisions I needed for the day in my Yogi Bear picnic basket of a bicycle bag. I had plenty of food but knew that I would need to stop for water. There weren't as many churches (for outdoor spigots) as I expected. Maybe there are more heathens in Southwest Georgians than elsewhere in the state. I was grateful to find this deer processing facility at the crossroads of Yeomans:
No one was there. I walked around the corner and found the open-air processing area, which had a sink. The water was a little eeky, but beggars can't be choosers.
Nearly 97 miles in, at the tip of T. rex's tail, I had another surprise: another dirt road! Again, because I had studied the route ahead of time, I thought I could continue on the current paved road to the next paved road without messing up the shape of T. rex's tail too much. I wanted to double check on Google Maps, but I couldn't get an Internet signal. Therefore, I decided to be adventurous and go on the second dirt road after all. Like on the first dirt road, I was able to ride the hard-packed sections, but I had to hike-a-bike through the loose, sandy sections:
This dirt road was about 4.5 miles long, and I had to walk about 0.75 mile of it. Although this actually was shorter than the first dirt road, the going seemed a little tougher, probably because I wasn't so fresh by now. By the way, I later confirmed that, yes, I could have continued straight on the paved road instead of turning on this dirt road. But then I wouldn't have had as good a story.
Just a few miles past this second dirt road, I got to the tiny town of Parrott. I had filled only one bottle with the eeky water back at the deer processing facility, and so now I really needed water again. The Visitor Center looked like a good bet. I went around the entire building but didn't see an outdoor spigot. Then, lo and behold, right across the street was a spigot sticking out of the sidewalk. It was kind a strange location, but I was thrilled to find it. I drank the little bit of liquid I had left and then filled both of my bike water bottles and both of the empty Gatorade bottles in my Yogi Bear picnic basket. This would keep me going for quite a while. Oh, yeah - I washed some of the dirt off my legs, too!
Transitioning to T. rex's back, I passed Koinonia Farm:
Koinonia Farm is an intentional Christian community, or what we might call a commune. This is where Habitat for Humanity began. I'd love to go back here for a visit sometime.
I was a little more than 200K into my ride as I approached Americus. I found the perfect place for another short break: a quiet, deserted, covered pavilion. Vienna sausage time!
Americus was the busiest part of my ride. One driver was a jerk, but overall the traffic was manageable. I wonder if the locals call it 'Mericus?
Heading north, it looked like I had just missed a rain shower. Although it wasn't terribly hot for June anyway, the passing rain and brief cloud cover helped keep it relatively cool that afternoon.
I crossed the Macon County line, which is not the county where the City of Macon is located. Georgia can be confusing like that. Anyway, just over the county line was Andersonville National Historic Site, location of Andersonville Prison, a prisoner-of-war camp during the latter part of the Civil War. Robert and I visited here some years ago. It's obviously a very sobering place and seems particularly poignant during these current times of civil unrest.
Although I wasn't quite smelling the barn, I felt pretty good at 50 miles to go. I stopped at a CVS in Montezuma (my only store stop) to get a couple of Gatorades for insurance to get me through the ride. As I sat on the sidewalk outside, eating a pb&j sandwich, another customer walked by and said, "Did I see you in Americus?" I laughed and said, "Probably!" He must have thought I was nuts. He was right.
I rode about five more miles on Georgia Highway 26. Along that stretch, I passed Yoder's Dietsch Haus, a famous Mennonite restaurant. I laughed to myself, remembering years ago when I announced to my coworkers in Atlanta that Robert and I were moving back to his hometown of Monticello. One of them said, "Oh, the place with the Mennonite restaurant?" I had to clarify that we were moving to Monticello, not Montezuma. Over the years I've heard a number of people mix up the two towns.
The rest of my ride was almost all on county roads through beautiful farmland. It was a perfect summer evening with blue skies, greenery everywhere, and temperatures just like I like them. I did take one more snack break at a hospitable A.M.E church. Yet again, I was amazed at how much better a calorie boost made me feel.
At last I arrived at the Vienna city limits! I finished comfortably before sunset. The route was within a mile of being 200 miles long. I couldn't get that close to 200 miles without topping it off, and so I did a few laps on a quiet downtown street right before I got back to my car.
Southwest Georgia may not be as flashy as other parts of the state, e.g., the mountains or the beach, but it's a great place to visit. In addition to the things I've documented here, I saw a number of other interesting things that I didn't stop to photograph, e.g. the location of Charles Lindbergh's first solo flight and Mad Dog Road (glad I only passed that one and didn't have to ride on it!).
My overall average speed probably would have been about 17 mph if not for the sections I had to walk. That's a statement of amazement, not a complaint. I'm thrilled to have averaged 16.1 mph for 200 miles. I love the rolling hills of home, but flat terrain definitely is faster. I joke about cycling friends who fixate on average speed. Yes, I like to ride as fast as possible, too, but that's not the only (or usually main) consideration. I'm grateful I felt well and was able to ride the entire route during daylight hours. And when it comes down to it, the most important thing is to have fun. That I did. In fact, it was such a great ride that it's almost a bonus that I got to draw a T. rex - RAWR!
Header
Road biking, dirt road riding on Frankenbike, tandem riding, group riding, time trialing, randonneuring - I love to ride, and I love to write. As I've traveled along on two wheels, I've learned one thing: Expect Adventure. Join me on the journey!
Betty Jean Jordan
Wednesday, June 24, 2020
Thursday, June 11, 2020
V-250 - East Side PATH
Step 1 of 2 is now complete for the Super vSR series. The Super vSR Award includes one 50K, one 100K, one 150K, one 200K, one 250K, and one 300K between March 28 and June 30. I had already completed the regular vSR series when George extended the Virtual Brevet Series into June. So, that just left the 250K and 300K for me on the Super vSR series. Last Saturday I did a 250K. It was an out-and-back route from my house that went on the PATH Foundation trails (South River Trail and Arabia Mountain PATH) on the east side of Atlanta. These east side trails go from the Monastery of the Holy Spirit to Lithonia.
It was very nice to know I wouldn't be dealing with traffic for the next 38 miles or so. The afternoon was warm and pleasant. Although I saw other people walking and biking, it wasn't crowded.
The South River Trail follows the South River, crossing it twice:
Earlier that morning, before I got to the trails, my 250K route had also crossed the Alcovy River and the Yellow River. These three rivers form the Ocmulgee River, which is the western boundary of Jasper County.
In DeKalb County I passed this sludge application area.
The civil engineer in me found this fascinating. Sludge application is a method to dispose of the final waste that comes from a waste water treatment plant. Typically, it's applied as a fertilizer for trees. You can't see much of the sludge application area from the trail, and so most people probably don't realize what's there.
I continued onto the Arabia Mountain PATH:
This isn't a great photo, but there weren't many vantage points from the trail. Arabia Mountain, Panola Mountain, and Stone Mountain are three monadnocks east of Atlanta, rising from an extensive batholith. (Geology rocks!) The rock outcroppings have some unique ecosystems that are even home to some endangered species.
The trail ends near Stonecrest Mall. I turned around and began retracing my path.
Restrooms and other facilities along the eastern trails mostly were closed due to COVID-19. I started out with two full water bottles and carried a couple of large bottles of Gatorade in my Yogi Bear picnic basket. A few miles after my turnaround point, I stopped at the Arabia Mountain trailhead and was glad to find that their outdoor spigot worked. I still had an unopened bottle of Gatorade, but I knew I needed to fill up while I had the chance.
A little farther down the trail, I stopped in a nice, shady spot to eat the sandwich I had packed:
The trails really are a wonderful amenity. If I lived in eastern suburban Atlanta, I would be grateful to have this natural respite nearby. We humans just have to be mindful of our nonhuman neighbors:
As I approached the monastery on my return trip, I noticed this marker:
This portion of the trail was finished only about a year before I rode the east side trails five years ago. The PATH Foundation has done a remarkable job creating trails in and around Atlanta. Robert and I were still living in Atlanta when the PATH Foundation formed. He volunteered in its early days and went to the opening of one of the first demonstration trails near Clarkston in the mid 90's. They planned to show people using the trail in various ways. Robert thought he might be a runner or walker. However, they had some in-line skates, and when no one else said they could skate, Robert said he'd give it a try. I got got to see a clip of his brief skating career on the TV news that evening.
It's amazing to compare today's network of PATH trails to the roughly six-mile bicycle path that my sister and I rode back in the 80's, which is now part of the PATH system. We'd ride from our house and pick up the bicycle path at the intersection of McLendon Drive and Ponce de Leon Avenue. It was about 10 miles total from our house to Stone Mountain via bicycle. That was an epic ride for me back in the day!
I said a fond farewell to the east side PATH trails and continued my route back toward Monticello. There was a little more traffic on the short stretches of state highways than there had been in the morning, but it wasn't too bad. Still, I was glad to make it back to more rural roads in Newton and Jasper Counties.
It was late afternoon, and I was starting to feel the mileage. I pulled over at quiet church to take a short break. It always feels good to take off my cycling shoes for a few minutes and wiggle my feet and toes. This goes a long way toward preventing hot spots. As I sat in the grass, I wrapped my arms around my knees. I didn't realize how grimy my legs had gotten, largely because of the sunscreen I had put on; now my arms were grimy, too! I had something to eat and drink and got back on the road. I felt much better after refueling.
In north Jasper County I stopped to take a photo at this subdivision that Robert designed:
Back in the late 90's and 2000's, before the Great Recession, Robert designed subdivisions left and right during the housing boom. Developers usually didn't care what the street names in their subdivisions were and left the naming up to Robert. He often used some kind of theme. In this one he named several roads after well known pro cyclists at the time: Hamilton Drive, Armstrong Drive, and Lance Court for Tyler Hamilton and Lance Armstrong. It's ironic that they both later fell from grace due to doping. Most people in this subdivision probably don't know the notoriety of some of their street names.
I was almost out of water, but it wasn't too much farther to Shady Dale, where there's a church with water. But first, turtle rescue at mile 137!
I made it to the church in Shady Dale and was grateful for the water. I was tired, but I had only about one more hour of riding. I thought about my friend Divya, who had posted a picture of herself as Rosie the Riveter a few days earlier:
I shared with her a picture of me as Rosie back in 2002:
So, inspired by Rosie, Divya, and myself, I finished my V-250K.
Next up...V-300K!
I had ridden on the east side PATH trails once before, five years ago. (See 9/6/15 blog post.) Back then, I rode to the trails and met Robert, who brought his bicycle in the car. We both then rode the trails from the monastery to Lithonia and back with a grand finale picnic back at the monastery. I had mapped a good route from home to the monastery that mostly kept me off of state highways. Saturday's 250K route utilized these same roads, out and back. I also added some additional mileage in Jasper County to get me to 250K.
One good thing for me about the pandemic is that I've been getting more sleep. I think of good health as a three-legged stool with exercise, good nutrition, and sleep as the three legs. Admittedly, the sleep leg of my stool has often suffered. It has been good to be less sleep deprived the past few months. So, I haven't made an attempt to get up particularly early to do my virtual brevets. On the other hand, I didn't want to start too late on my 250K because I knew that it would take me around 11 hours. I woke up just before 7:00 AM and got on the road about 8:30 AM, about as late as I should have started to get home before dark.
My route first took a jag to the east to get some needed extra mileage. I headed east on Rock Eagle Road and then north to Shady Dale. From there I rode west to pick up my main route to the monastery.
In 1944 twenty-one Trappist monks left Gethsemani Abbey in Kentucky to form a new one in Georgia. Today, the Monastery of the Holy Spirit is a wonderful place to visit. Although some portions are off limits to the public, it has lots to offer: a store, chapel, tours, and picnic grounds. Also, several people I know have taken retreats there.
Chapel |
The monastery is the easternmost trailhead for the PATH trails. Many people are more familiar with the Silver Comet, a trail west of Atlanta, which is also a PATH Foundation trail. While the Silver Comet is relatively flat because it was constructed on an old railroad bed, the east side trails are much hillier and more winding. Eventual plans are to connect both sets of trails. Maybe this will happen during my lifetime.
It was very nice to know I wouldn't be dealing with traffic for the next 38 miles or so. The afternoon was warm and pleasant. Although I saw other people walking and biking, it wasn't crowded.
The South River Trail follows the South River, crossing it twice:
Earlier that morning, before I got to the trails, my 250K route had also crossed the Alcovy River and the Yellow River. These three rivers form the Ocmulgee River, which is the western boundary of Jasper County.
In DeKalb County I passed this sludge application area.
The civil engineer in me found this fascinating. Sludge application is a method to dispose of the final waste that comes from a waste water treatment plant. Typically, it's applied as a fertilizer for trees. You can't see much of the sludge application area from the trail, and so most people probably don't realize what's there.
I continued onto the Arabia Mountain PATH:
This isn't a great photo, but there weren't many vantage points from the trail. Arabia Mountain, Panola Mountain, and Stone Mountain are three monadnocks east of Atlanta, rising from an extensive batholith. (Geology rocks!) The rock outcroppings have some unique ecosystems that are even home to some endangered species.
The trail ends near Stonecrest Mall. I turned around and began retracing my path.
Restrooms and other facilities along the eastern trails mostly were closed due to COVID-19. I started out with two full water bottles and carried a couple of large bottles of Gatorade in my Yogi Bear picnic basket. A few miles after my turnaround point, I stopped at the Arabia Mountain trailhead and was glad to find that their outdoor spigot worked. I still had an unopened bottle of Gatorade, but I knew I needed to fill up while I had the chance.
A little farther down the trail, I stopped in a nice, shady spot to eat the sandwich I had packed:
The trails really are a wonderful amenity. If I lived in eastern suburban Atlanta, I would be grateful to have this natural respite nearby. We humans just have to be mindful of our nonhuman neighbors:
As I approached the monastery on my return trip, I noticed this marker:
This portion of the trail was finished only about a year before I rode the east side trails five years ago. The PATH Foundation has done a remarkable job creating trails in and around Atlanta. Robert and I were still living in Atlanta when the PATH Foundation formed. He volunteered in its early days and went to the opening of one of the first demonstration trails near Clarkston in the mid 90's. They planned to show people using the trail in various ways. Robert thought he might be a runner or walker. However, they had some in-line skates, and when no one else said they could skate, Robert said he'd give it a try. I got got to see a clip of his brief skating career on the TV news that evening.
It's amazing to compare today's network of PATH trails to the roughly six-mile bicycle path that my sister and I rode back in the 80's, which is now part of the PATH system. We'd ride from our house and pick up the bicycle path at the intersection of McLendon Drive and Ponce de Leon Avenue. It was about 10 miles total from our house to Stone Mountain via bicycle. That was an epic ride for me back in the day!
I said a fond farewell to the east side PATH trails and continued my route back toward Monticello. There was a little more traffic on the short stretches of state highways than there had been in the morning, but it wasn't too bad. Still, I was glad to make it back to more rural roads in Newton and Jasper Counties.
It was late afternoon, and I was starting to feel the mileage. I pulled over at quiet church to take a short break. It always feels good to take off my cycling shoes for a few minutes and wiggle my feet and toes. This goes a long way toward preventing hot spots. As I sat in the grass, I wrapped my arms around my knees. I didn't realize how grimy my legs had gotten, largely because of the sunscreen I had put on; now my arms were grimy, too! I had something to eat and drink and got back on the road. I felt much better after refueling.
In north Jasper County I stopped to take a photo at this subdivision that Robert designed:
Back in the late 90's and 2000's, before the Great Recession, Robert designed subdivisions left and right during the housing boom. Developers usually didn't care what the street names in their subdivisions were and left the naming up to Robert. He often used some kind of theme. In this one he named several roads after well known pro cyclists at the time: Hamilton Drive, Armstrong Drive, and Lance Court for Tyler Hamilton and Lance Armstrong. It's ironic that they both later fell from grace due to doping. Most people in this subdivision probably don't know the notoriety of some of their street names.
I was almost out of water, but it wasn't too much farther to Shady Dale, where there's a church with water. But first, turtle rescue at mile 137!
I made it to the church in Shady Dale and was grateful for the water. I was tired, but I had only about one more hour of riding. I thought about my friend Divya, who had posted a picture of herself as Rosie the Riveter a few days earlier:
I shared with her a picture of me as Rosie back in 2002:
So, inspired by Rosie, Divya, and myself, I finished my V-250K.
Next up...V-300K!
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