Integer Degree Confluence Ride

What a fun Peach Peloton! Last Saturday we did a mixed surface edition, which we had never done before. Also, I visited and documented 33˚ N latitude, 84˚ W longitude (whole degrees with no minutes or seconds).  That's called an integer degree confluence.  There are 16 in Georgia, and no place on Earth is more than 49 miles from an integer degree confluence.  I learned about integer degree confluences a few months ago when I read the excellent book Maphead by Ken Jennings, the guy who won Jeopardy! for so long.  The book discusses all kinds of aspects of geography, which is way more than maps, which are cool enough by themselves.  It's one of my favorite books I've read in the past decade.

Because the route was mostly dirt/gravel, I knew I couldn't keep up with the guys anyway.  (It's much harder to draft on dirt than pavement.)  Also, the route went less than two miles from the confluence.  Therefore, it was the perfect day to ride at my own pace and make a side trip to the confluence.

Robert and I correctly guessed who else would show up for the ride, given the mixed surface route and the cold: Cal, Cody, Henry, Jake, Travis, and Van.  It was the coldest Peach Peloton in a while (28˚ at the start, and the temperature never got higher than the 40s), but, fortunately, I was dressed well for it.  I even wore my balaclava.  And of course, I was wearing my new off-road winter cycling shoes that I got for Christmas instead of an iguana (ha ha!  - see my blog entry on 12/23/20).

The guys dropped me even sooner than I expected, but that was OK.  It was a beautiful day despite the cold.  The only place I really noticed the cold was in my fingertips, and they eventually warmed up.  I thoroughly enjoyed the rural dirt roads with practically no traffic.

Robert had told me about a particular Strava segment shortly before the store stop.  It was dirt and really steep.  Only about four people had ridden it before, and he didn't think there were any women.  I didn't want to ride it hard regardless, but I did, in fact, get the QOM!  Woo hoo!

The store stop was sooner than usual, at about mile 25, but that was the only option along the route.  I got to the store stop before the guys left.  After a quick snack, I headed out before them.  I rode farther than I thought I would before they caught me again.  I hopped onto the back of the peloton for a little while, but they dropped me again pretty soon.

Parks Road was especially picturesque.  It started out paved, winding through lovely farmland.  After making a turn, I spotted a pond sparkling in the sunlight - magic!  Later, Robert told me that the rest of the group noticed the same pond.  He even created a new Strava segment there called Glimmerlake.

Soon after Parks Road, I took my detour to get to the confluence.  The confluence is located on a wooded tract owned by a timber company.  I read previous accounts of visits to this confluence and saw that it was accessible either from a church or from an old logging road.  The logging road looked like it would get me closer to the spot, and so I opted for it.  The church is located at the corner of Georgia Highway 83 and Renouf Road.  Access to the logging road was easy to find, approximately 0.1 mile north-northwest of the church on Highway 83.

I rode from the highway onto a dirt access road leading to an area of clear-cut timber.  A man called out to me.  He was a hunter whose club leases the property.  He was camping out in a small trailer.  He said that no one was hunting that day (yea!) and was fine with me traversing the property to get to the confluence.  Although he seemed a little bemused by my appearance, he sounded kind of interested in my adventure, too.  I told him that I was looking for a particular latitude and longitude, kind of like geocaching or treasure hunting.

At first, I didn’t see the logging road, which has grown up and is more of a trail now.  In fact, I didn’t find it until I was walking back from the confluence because a big pile of brush from the clear-cutting had blocked it from my initial view.  So, I laid my bike down where I could find it again and set out on foot with the Google Earth app on my phone.

I walked across the clear-cut area, watching the lat/long on my phone and refreshing it periodically to get a current reading.  There were a few briars, but they weren’t bad.  Trekking was fairly easy even in my cycling clothes and shoes.  Also, because it was winter, ticks weren’t an issue.  The hunter had asked me to keep an eye out for deer, but all I saw was a rabbit.

I moved from the clear-cut area to woods that had not been timbered.  I was very close on latitude, but I was having a hard time zeroing in on the longitude.  Then I remembered that my phone also has a compass.  I was a little too far north and a little too far west; therefore, I used my compass to walk southeast.  I realized that my sense of north had been slightly off because the sun is so far south while we’re close to the winter solstice.  The compass also gave me lat/long, which matched the lat/long on my Google Earth app, giving me more confidence in my location (or at least my phone’s GPS receiver).

As I got closer to the confluence, I saw a creek.  I remembered previous confluence reports mentioning a creek.  I climbed down an embankment to stand next to the creek and – woo hoo – all zeroes!  (minutes and seconds)

I took the photos required to submit an official visit report to the Degree Confluence Project (check out http://confluence.org/ for more details).

"All zeroes" at the bottom

General area of the confluence

View to the north

View to the east

View to the south

View to the west

These shoes were definitely more handy than an iguana on this outing.

After taking the required photos and spending a few minutes reveling in the beautiful day and successful visit, I headed back toward my bicycle.  I ate the slices of Claxton fruitcake that I had brought as bike food and marveled at how my phone has more computing power than the computers that existed at the time Neil Armstrong walked on the moon.

Walking as straight a line as I could reckon, I found the trail (logging road) that would have led me almost right to the confluence.  I picked up my bike, said goodbye to the hunter, and pedaled away.

The Peach Peloton route was 73 miles, but I shortened my ride to 63 miles so that Robert didn't have to wait so long for me back at the car.  He said that several of the guys commented that it was their favorite Peach Peloton ever.  I agree!