It's been a slim year for blogging so far. My goal is to have at least one post per month. Here it is at the end of March, and I haven't written anything yet. Not that I haven't wanted to. Work has been especially busy this month. In addition to teaching my own classes, I've been covering a lot for my boss, who is tending to his ill mother. Also, I've got erosion & sedimentation control plans lined up like planes taxiing on a runway. Even with my heavier than usual workload, I've still been riding - just not writing. For now, I'll just write about my biggest event in March, the Fried Clay 200K.
The Fried Clay was mostly dirt roads with some gravel, but it also had some pavement and a significant stretch of single track. I do a lot of 200Ks on pavement. This 200K was way harder, but I still had a great time.
The Fried Clay was first held two years ago. It was set again for March 2020 when the pandemic hit. Organizer Pat Patterson had hoped to reschedule it for last fall, but pandemic conditions hadn't improved substantially. Therefore, he postponed it to this month, came up with a somewhat different route, and revamped the format. Instead of having the usual mass start, riders could complete the route on their own anytime this month. I opted for the second Saturday, March 13. Even though I was rather tired from teaching classes four days in the preceding workweek, I didn't want to get caught pushing off the Fried Clay too late into the month. Also, the weather forecast looked good - time to strike while the iron was hot.
I'm lucky that the Fried Clay starts about 10 miles from my house. I didn't have to get up at an unearthly hour to get a good start. I drove to the starting location, the Cedar Creek Wildlife Management Area Check Station.
About a dozen other cars were there, and several other riders headed out around the same time I did. Within a few miles I came up on a couple of other riders. One was a woman. I passed them and didn't see them the rest of the day. I didn't see any other women cyclists. I'm sure I have some competition in the Fried Clay, but because of the monthlong format, I have no idea who or how much that competition is. It will be interesting to see the final results.
That morning it was a foggy start. As I rode through the Piedmont Wildlife Refuge (PWR), remnants of smoke lingered in the air from prescribed burning earlier that week. Everything had a rather medieval feel.
Soon the air cleared, and the fog burned off. I crossed two familiar creeks in the PWR. I was grateful for a beautiful day to ride.
At my first nature break, I saw these deer bones.
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| Oh, deer! |
The bones simultaneously made me feel sad yet connected to all the other life that surrounds us.
At the Fried Clay two years ago, I hadn't been able to find water at New Hope Church, which Pat had recommended. Fortunately, I did find water at nearby Freedonia AME Church. Assuming the water situation was the same this year, I stopped at Freedonia again. They are my friends and don't even know it.
A few miles later, the route went on an ooky Forest Service road - lots of gravel. It was manageable, but I was glad when it was over. I turned onto Smith Mill Road, a much easier dirt road. Next came the toughest section of the course: single track.
The first section of single track wasn't bad, but most of it was slow going. I even had to walk around some of the muddy horse trails because they weren't ridable. Nevertheless, the Oconee National Forest was one of the prettiest parts of the route.
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| One of many creek crossings |
I even got some cyclocross practice:
Overall, navigating was a snap, but one place deep in the forest got me turned around for a few minutes. I tried several paths, but my Wahoo kept indicating that I was off course. Then, several guys caught up to me. They were having a hard time, too. Just as we realized the correct trail, here came a couple of horseback riders. We stopped to ask them how they wanted us to proceed so that we wouldn't spook their horses. Lo and behold, one of the riders was my friend Erika!
I hadn't seen her in forever, and it was fun to have a few moments to chat. However, I was antsy about stopping for too long, and so I continued on.
The next section was so steep that I had to walk my bicycle up the slope. The guys right behind me did, too. Here came another group of horseback riders. I'm really glad we totally stopped for them because this sweet mule was terrified of cyclists. Her owner finally persuaded her to walk past us.
Once we reached the top of the hill, I continued on ahead of the guys and didn't see them again. Glad that the hardest terrain was behind me, I pedaled toward Juliette.
I had plenty of food with me, but I knew I would need water several times throughout the day. Water was available only in limited places, and so it was important to fill up whenever possible. Juliette has a public restroom at the fire department. I had planned to stop there as I have several times in the past. However, it was locked that day, probably because of the pandemic. I looked for a spigot on several buildings on the main street through Juliette but couldn't find one. So, I stuck my head in a shop and asked the owner if she knew where a spigot was. She went above and beyond, giving me two bottles of ice cold water for free! That gave me much needed hydration as well as a big boost to my spirits. Thank you!
Next were some of the familiar, beautiful roads through the PWR. I looked forward to the Wildlife Loop, which I usually ride only during the Fried Green 50 because it's a little too far to include in my regular dirt road rides from my house. The Fried Clay route had a slight deviation from the Fried Green 50 route, however. At a particular T intersection, the Fried Clay turned right onto a road new to me. There was a reason I had never ridden on this road before; it said Foot Traffic Only. I assumed Pat had gotten permission for the Fried Clay to go on this road. I assumed wrong.
I crossed a pretty creek, notable for the unusual concrete pad across the shallowest part. Even though I had downshifted on the approach, I still had to push my bike up a very long, steep hill on the other side. As I was climbing, I heard a vehicle and turned to see someone driving across the creek. That was odd. It turned out to be a ranger - not so odd after all. He rolled down his window as he passed me. I assured him that I was walking, and he seemed OK with that. He drove on, and I kept walking. A short distance later, I noticed a sign facing the opposite direction. I looked over my shoulder and noted that it also said Foot Traffic Only. So, I thought the only place I wasn't supposed to ride was right around the creek itself. Therefore, when the slope finally decreased enough for me to start riding again, I hopped back on my bike. Soon thereafter, here came the ranger back toward me. He was not pleased.
This time he stopped and got out of his truck. He asked to see my ID. I showed him my Road ID, and he was taken aback that I didn't have a "real" ID. No way I'd take my drivers license on a ride like this; I'd be afraid I'd lose it. Besides, a Road ID is more useful. It has my name, my town, and three emergency contact numbers. Anyway, he seemed satisfied that I answered all his questions truthfully: name and DOB. It probably didn't hurt that I said I was from Monticello up the road. I told him that I was doing the Fried Clay event. He was familiar with the Fried Green 50 but not the Fried Clay. I explained how it was set up as an on-your-own event, using many of the same roads as the Fried Green 50 and the Red Clay Ramble, which is where the name Fried Clay came from. Other riders were behind me, and still more would be doing the Fried Clay throughout March. The ranger was actually a very nice guy, and he said that he speaks up for cyclists using the PWR when planning is done. I understood from his perspective why riders shouldn't be out there without a permit (e.g., potential hunting days). He was generous to let me go without a citation. He gave me his card, and I said I would contact Pat and let him know we couldn't use this road. I did so the next morning, Pat contacted the ranger, and the Fried Clay course was slightly rerouted for the remainder of March. All's well that ends well.
Grateful to have maneuvered through that sticky situation, I looked forward to getting water at the upcoming Georgia Forestry Commission ranger station. It was about 3/4 mile off the course, but it was worth a little extra distance because it was about the only place to get water for quite a while. I went to the spigot on the main building near Highway 11. It wasn't working! Dang. I would be passing a friend's house several miles later, but I really preferred to get water at the ranger station if possible. There are several buildings there. I checked all around and finally found another spigot at the back corner of an equipment building. This one worked - yea!
I was still feeling pretty good, but I had a long way to go yet. Although the roads toward the end were some of the easiest, fatigue began to settle in. As I mentioned, a dirt road 200K is a lot harder than a paved 200K, mainly because you're constantly shaking and vibrating from the rougher surface. Also, dirt is slower than pavement, which makes a dirt 200K take longer. (Good ol' rate x time = distance)
I wondered if I might be able to make it to the end with the water I had. Maybe, if I had to, but I decided to look for a church that might have water. New Damascus Baptist Church - of course! I had gotten water there before, most recently on Peach Peloton a few months ago. At first, I didn't realize that I would be passing this church during the Fried Clay because previously I had always approached it from the opposite direction. It was a wonderful surprise.
I estimated that I had nearly another hour and a half of riding. No longer fresh and dewy, I was now in git-r-done mode. My brain went into neutral. Gone were philosophizing, planning, or even focusing on the scenery. I was doing everything rather mechanically. That wasn't a bad place mentally, but I do remember thinking at one point, "Dang, this is hard!" I rode on a beautiful, new-to-me Forest Service road that went between Shoal Creek Road and Union Hill Church Road. I scribbled a mental note to come back and ride this road another time when I could enjoy it more fully.
Union Hill Church Road became Bradley Road. Then, instead of turning left onto Firetower Road, which I was familiar with, I continued straight on Bradley Road, a section I had never ridden. I had looked at the map ahead of time and saw that Bradley Road comes out on Highway 212 and crosses over onto Rabbit Skip Road, one of my favorite paved roads. The last loop of the Fried Clay was approaching. I started to smell the barn.
Although I had hoped to finish before sunset, I realized that I wasn't going to make it. No problem, though - that's why I had brought front and rear lights. I knew this last section well: Rabbit Skip, Stanfordville Road, and Checking Station Road. Even so, those last miles went so s l o w l y. Checking Station Road crossed Highway 212 kind of catty-cornered. Then, it was only about half a mile to the end. Nearly 12 hours later, I came back to where I started. I was fried, but I did it!
