Tomorrow is fun with Ironman Wisconsin but no day is fulfilling without a bit of experimentation. My tests for tomorrow:
* Lots of z2 workouts this year. That's faired well for others. I'll find out soon.
* Slow twitch warmth. The day will begin and end in the 50's F. I'm hoping energy saved on thermal regulation turns kinetic! I'm also hoping 150bpm generates enough warmth!
* HIIT - how well does this prepare me for marathon?
* Are burpees really good endurance training?
* I'm pushing for 300cal/hour intake - 2/3 of a powerbar every 30 mins. This should keep me going a bit longer.
* Annual Adaptation - I did this last year. I did this in 2008. I've done several long events this year alone. I believe endurance events are cumulative at my level of competition. Here's hoping.
* Less is more - I'm headed into this race 5lbs lighter than last year. I'm hoping that helps especially on bike and run hills. It already makes wetsuit easier to get on/off ;-)
Big focus areas for tomorrow:
* love the wetsuit, be the wetsuit, work with my wetsuit. (thanks Gary, Dennis, and Christine!)
* 300 cal/hour intake
* ride smart on hills - easy up, hammer flat and down
* DON'T GET CARRIED AWAY BY THE CROWDS
* caffeine and pain killer on back half of run
* Bust ass after mile 20. Last time I finished with composure. This time I want to go hard for the last hour.
With good luck I will have some final results 25 hours from now.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Ironman Wisconsin 2011
This weekend I am attempting Ironman Wisconsin. The course is more difficult than last year's Ironman Louisville. Challenges for me are:
In 2010 I attempted Ironman Louisville vowing to avoid the proverbial "death march" in the marathon. Special thanks to Scott Heider for inspiration and insight along those lines. Thanks also to Brian Barndt for Total Immersion swim lessons. If you're looking for swim instruction in the RTP area give him a call. Brian is a heart transplant recipient and amazing swimmer. Brian is also a great coach and inspiration. Things came together well in Louisville for a 13:48 finish. Details here.
My wife Rebecca caught the IM bug in 2010 and signed up for IMKY 2011. I was race support for her so I had to find another event. I squeezed into IMWI. The timing is critical for me as training becomes difficult as the weather cools and days become shorter. The timing also means Rebecca and I can train together through the year. The IMWI venue brings new challenges as noted above.
Rebecca succeeded in her first attempt at Ironman. She set the bar high for me to follow.
Why Ironman? There are plenty of YouTube videos about the occult nature of Ironman. Ironman is what you make of it - for better or worse. The values I found in Iroman are:
If you find yourself bored or tired of news coverage on Sunday, Sept. 11, then follow along on my journey. Rebecca will be updating my Facebook page. Otherwise track me at http://ironmanlive.com, Ironman Wisconsin, Last Name:Sisk or Athlete Number:1448.
- wetsuit swim - I don't get along with wetsuits very well. I have a long reach and glide. Wetsuit makes this difficult.
- two loop swim - this means no escaping the crowds. Leaders will invariably be swimming over and through. It also means no help from a current.
- very hilly bike course
- very hilly run course
- cold - this is a personal challenge as I prefer warmer temperatures. IMKY last year suited me well. This event will be 20 degrees F cooler on average
- long distance travel - I've driven to every other event with all the creature comforts that entails. This time I shipped my bike and gear (Thanks Edde Burgess at Inside Out Sports!) and am flying up and back.
In 2010 I attempted Ironman Louisville vowing to avoid the proverbial "death march" in the marathon. Special thanks to Scott Heider for inspiration and insight along those lines. Thanks also to Brian Barndt for Total Immersion swim lessons. If you're looking for swim instruction in the RTP area give him a call. Brian is a heart transplant recipient and amazing swimmer. Brian is also a great coach and inspiration. Things came together well in Louisville for a 13:48 finish. Details here.
My wife Rebecca caught the IM bug in 2010 and signed up for IMKY 2011. I was race support for her so I had to find another event. I squeezed into IMWI. The timing is critical for me as training becomes difficult as the weather cools and days become shorter. The timing also means Rebecca and I can train together through the year. The IMWI venue brings new challenges as noted above.
Rebecca succeeded in her first attempt at Ironman. She set the bar high for me to follow.
Why Ironman? There are plenty of YouTube videos about the occult nature of Ironman. Ironman is what you make of it - for better or worse. The values I found in Iroman are:
- Focus - Know what is important and focus on it. Anything else is a potential waste of resources. Carefully budget resources toward exploration. Keep focus on core activities.
- Gradual Adaptation - keep doing the core activity, learning from it, and evolving it. The core changes (time, temperature, terrain, tools) but the participant also changes (mentality, physiology).
- Capitalize on easy times - In biking it's hammer the flats and downhills so you can coast the uphills. In life it's make use of less critical but still important situations to learn and gain momentum.
- Recovery - we can't go all out all the time. It simply does not work. In exercise the saying is "you get stronger on off days". In life make the big push but then take time to recover. Learn from the push and identify a few opportunities to do it better next time. Recharge your batteries before taking on the next project. When the previous leg is done put it in a bag and close it off. Move on.
- Planning - In Ironman if you crush (ride fast!) the bike then you pay for it in the marathon. The marathon is always after the bike. It is no surprise. If you intentionally choose to push the bike and suffer on the marathon that is a choice. Otherwise save some on the bike to apply to the run. Beyond that moving the goal posts is untenable.
If you find yourself bored or tired of news coverage on Sunday, Sept. 11, then follow along on my journey. Rebecca will be updating my Facebook page. Otherwise track me at http://ironmanlive.com, Ironman Wisconsin, Last Name:Sisk or Athlete Number:1448.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Swimming in the North Atlantic
Is a cold endeavor. Even with a wetsuit.
Rebecca and I tried again today to swim at shortsands. Walking down to the beach with wetsuits on to the waist in low 90's air temps was an exercise in heat acclimation.
We stepped in up to our knees for cooling while pulling up the rest of the suit. The water stung until our feet numbed. Zipped up we plowed forward into the frigid water. There is no mistaking when water crests the zipper seam and trickles down my back.
The first strokes with my hands in the water feel like swimming through needles. Water on my face takes my breath away. Twenty strokes in Rebecca is done. I remain stubborn.
I stroke forward and my face hits even colder water. I remember these thermal zones from last year. This one freezes my face and ears into an instant headache. That's new. I aim for shallower water closer to the shore and start swimming again.
I am here to swim. I make it across the beach to the Katadin Inn. One leg down. When I lift my face from the water my goggles immediately fog over. When I put my watch in the water it immediately fogs over. Oh the science experiments.
A few strokes into the return trip I am really struggling. My form is crap. I take a mouthful of salt water. What is going on? This feels like fatigue at the end of a two mile swim - but it's only been a few hundred yards. Focus. Stretch. Catch. Hello? Catch! Ok, no catch, just pull. My extremities are less responsive.
Stop to assess the situation. Whoops, no bottom there, in over my head literally and figuratively. Stay calm, focus on siting, and SWIM!
The bottom comes into view. It gets closer. So does my site. Shallower water closer to destination.
Head up, feet down, walking out of the water. I start peeling off the wetsuit. The air doesn't even feel warm to my torso.
Seventeen minutes of swimming was all I managed. The water is cold to the point of incapacitating. It was shocking how fast the cold set in and took it's toll.
Rebecca and I tried again today to swim at shortsands. Walking down to the beach with wetsuits on to the waist in low 90's air temps was an exercise in heat acclimation.
We stepped in up to our knees for cooling while pulling up the rest of the suit. The water stung until our feet numbed. Zipped up we plowed forward into the frigid water. There is no mistaking when water crests the zipper seam and trickles down my back.
The first strokes with my hands in the water feel like swimming through needles. Water on my face takes my breath away. Twenty strokes in Rebecca is done. I remain stubborn.
I stroke forward and my face hits even colder water. I remember these thermal zones from last year. This one freezes my face and ears into an instant headache. That's new. I aim for shallower water closer to the shore and start swimming again.
I am here to swim. I make it across the beach to the Katadin Inn. One leg down. When I lift my face from the water my goggles immediately fog over. When I put my watch in the water it immediately fogs over. Oh the science experiments.
A few strokes into the return trip I am really struggling. My form is crap. I take a mouthful of salt water. What is going on? This feels like fatigue at the end of a two mile swim - but it's only been a few hundred yards. Focus. Stretch. Catch. Hello? Catch! Ok, no catch, just pull. My extremities are less responsive.
Stop to assess the situation. Whoops, no bottom there, in over my head literally and figuratively. Stay calm, focus on siting, and SWIM!
The bottom comes into view. It gets closer. So does my site. Shallower water closer to destination.
Head up, feet down, walking out of the water. I start peeling off the wetsuit. The air doesn't even feel warm to my torso.
Seventeen minutes of swimming was all I managed. The water is cold to the point of incapacitating. It was shocking how fast the cold set in and took it's toll.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
New Hampshire Rockingham Recreational Trail
Looking around York Beach, ME on Google Maps with the Bicycling overlay I noticed a long trail just across the NH border. I found an idle slot in the schedule on Wednesday morning and made plans. Peter offered to drop me off near the trailhead to save me early miles. We left the cottage at 6am for the 20ish mile drive down near the trail head. Stratham Hill Park off Highway 33 provided a convenient drop spot for me to begin riding and Peter to begin the trek back to the interstate and Maine.
A short ride up Portsmouth, Squamscott, and College put me near the trail. The riding was easy, shoulders usually adequate, and morning traffic light enough. I found this building near the east end of the supposed trail head. I'm guessing this the old rail depot referenced on the TrailLink website. TrailLink really let me down on this one. They apparently recently moved GPS hosting to Garmin. Gamin bundles routes into region bundles for download. Garmin also imposes a bandwidth check that my mobile broadband card could not pass. I ended up using http://gmap-pedometer and the GMapToGPX script to map the route. I still need to submit feedback to Garmin and TrailLink.
The trail is a faint gap in the weeds off to the right.
Soon enough I found confirmation of the path.
Early going was good enough. I quickly realized my planned 15mph average speed was unrealistic. The new goal was anything over 10mph.
Shortly down the trail this stadium appeared off to the south. It seemed a bit large for a normal football field. I suspect a dirt track for racing.
Large portions of the trail were covered in this black gravel. It was almost charcoal at times at certainly marked up my bike and water bottles.
Some nice leftover railroad bridges on the route. All bridges and culvards had boards laid parallel to the trail in the center of the road bed. The ends, as well as all street crossings, showed clear evidence of scraping. I'm guessing that's from snowmobiles. Somewhere along the trial I saw 2 snow mobiles parked beside a shed. There were interesting to me mostly in their rarity. There was plenty of evidence of 4 wheelers on the trail. Several places had pretty deep banked corners where a 4 wheeler trail met up with the trail and overlapped for stretches.
I passed through the first town delighted to find Dunkin Donuts and Wendys. Those were good to keep in mind for later. This was the second town along the route. It was comforting to find civilization along the route.
This train depot, cars, and section of track receive plenty of TLC from the Raymond Historical Society. Between the full size train cars there was one rail service card about the size of a four wheeler with enclosed cabin.
The aforementioned culvards along the route were interesting. I saw them mentioned in trail reviews. This was my first encounter. As I slowed to take the picture I heard voices echoing through the tunnel. The fairly large group moved to the right to make room.
When I cleared the tunnel the group erupted. They were a group of cheerleaders. I was pushing the pace for multiple reasons. Cheering just pushed it further.
Further down the trail I passed two more groups of cheerleaders. The second group I think was the "C" squad. They barely managed to leave enough room for me to get buy. As I "buzzed" them with the sparse available space they squealed and shrieked in surprise. Their cheer squad leader had already ordered them make room twice. I was on my third call of "on your right" by the time I got to them. They managed no claps and no cheers.
The third group cleared the trail at the very last second and managed a couple of claps. I think they were the "B" squad.
Alone again on the trail I found this dock directly connected to the trail. It was a smooth ride down the trail, down the dock, and could have been right off into the water. I didn't stop to check but I'm betting it was cold. Ocean temps at nearby Cape Neddick are fluctuating between mid 50's and 60's.
Site of a former depot but this was the only remnant. I like including my bike in photos. It's a reminder that I was there. New for this trip is the third water bottle holder just behind the front tire. Only shorter bottles fit without rubbing the tire. Running out of water is a huge personal fear especially as I learn and experience more about bike packing. The fourth bottle, in the back pocket of the pannier, isn't included on the count of cages on the bike itself. Room for 3 insulated bottles now. Time for another acquisition.
This highlights one of the challenges of the approximately half dozen culvards. They are short with some shorter than others. Only one could I stand in. this one was about average. These also feature planks running parallel to the road bed that make for interesting riding surface. TrailLink recommends walking the culvards. I agree for safety. I did manage to ride all of them but with several hairy moments.
Coming out of the culvard is a nice downhill. The M.O. for culvards was flip on the headlight (just visible to the right of reflector in this picture), hammer the pedals to drive up the loose gravel climb, hug the top tube to be short enough to enter the culvard, focus on the floor looking for rocks and cracks in or in between boards, shoot out the other side, sit up, pick a line, and zoom down the hill. Culvard crossings were quite exhilarating.
This was the one nice tall culvard I could ride through unphased. The increased height also meant more light inside.
I found this bog interesting for the density of what I know as cat tails. They stand here dense like wheat in a field.
Here is another example of surface on the trail. Dodge the larger rocks. There are 2 vague tire tracks on the left and right. the undulations in the trail resembled moguls at times. I nearly got air just rolling along at 11.6MPH.
One genuine tunnel on the route. A nice underpass to avoid the road. There was some graffiti. There were some interesting official looking markings that contributed to the writing on the wall.
And finally the end of the trail in Manchester, NH. The end is rather unceremonious. Just before this the trail looked like someone plowed the original rail bed with a pointed blade typically seen on dozers for cutting firebreaks. There were railroad ties and spikes littering the left and right with a course but ridable bed in the middle. This is about 1 block east of Elliot Hospital. Take a right and immediate left for a road that leads directly to the hospital in case of any trail incidents. There is also a pizza shop to the immediate right that looks promising for carb re-loading.
Conveniently the CVS at the end of the trail is open 24x7. Great for resupply. In my case Pepsi and Peanut Butter cups for a boost. Oh, and a bit of shade.
Heading back east I encountered a road construction crew the second time. The "No Parking" signs clearly did not apply to them. Fortunately they did leave room for me to navigate on the eastbound leg. During the westbound leg they completely blocked the trail and sent me hiking through the brush.
Marsh land around Massabesic Lake. This bit reminded me of scenes from Georgia and Florida. It provided a nice bit of familiarity.
Here is the road bed inside one of the culvards. It's not terrible but it's not exactly highway grade roadbed for smooth sailing - especially for a cyclocross bike running 38mm(?) tires.
I tend to focus on the negative. This shot was intentional reminder that there are some nice sections of trail as well. Good surface, good shade, and smooth rolling.
It's really great to see the railroad infrastructure still in use. I've only seen sides on a bridge like this a few times. I'm guessing it is to protect the bridge from water prone to flooding. More research required.
The trail is primarily maintained by a snowmobile club. I never figured out how the gates at every road crossing could be compatible with snowmobiles. Snow life - it's all such a mystery.
The route was well signed. There are plenty of amenities available if the signs are to be believed. Most of the signs appeared printed on a home printer and the laminated. It's not durable but it is simple and efficient. I suspect one or two replacements during a short Maine summer suffice.
Fresh off the east end of the trail I found myself ravenous hungry. A Shell(?) gas station helped that with plenty of ice water and a single sleeve of Fig Newtons. Only three remained by the time I reached the cottage. It was refreshing to see 'teens staffing and stocking the store. Seems like the 'cheap unskilled labor' market hasn't yet been flooded here.
Setting out after resupply I followed 108 to 33 to some other roads to eventually 1. Most had a nice wide shoulder for riding. I don't know the real intent of the shoulder but it sure makes for good biking. It's a bit rough, seems to be concrete base about 15-20' long that's been paved over. There are bumps but you're free to take the bumps without worring about getting creamed by passing traffic.
At one point my hastily planned route carried me through an office park and onto this closed overpass. A nice wide bridge just for my little bicycle.
Coming down the other side provided a bit more signage and traffic!
Taking a right on the path in the picture above led to this dedicated bike path. I really enjoyed my short stint of biking in NH.
Heading up 1 I crossed the grated bridge from NH into ME. Riding the grating was a bit of adventure but it was expected. There were sidewalks open to pedestrians but foreboding signs for cyclists. Traffic was low and my speed was high so I stuck with the road and things worked out.
I continued up 1 with its wide shoulders rather than trying backroads. Slower pace on the railtrail had already consumed my allotted time for the trip. The wide shoulder was great. The ride wasn't as scenic but I'd already enjoyed 50+ miles of good scenery.
I finished the day with around 85 miles. If I was a martini I was shaken and stirred from the terrain and rough joints in the road. All in all it was a great ride though.
In Jill Homer's book she shares a tip she learned for avoiding mosquitos - keep it over 10MPH. In my informal testing it held up. I carried one of the new Off Clip-ons for just-in-case. Mosquitoes were on me like white on rice when I stopped to grab something from the pannier or exchange water bottles. Normally I can do sundries while rolling but trying that on this trail garnered a sharp jolt at best and an endo at worst. With a flat or any mechanical the bug repellent would have been a life saver.
The trail bed is also pretty rough. It was ridable on my cyclocross bike. I don't know how much difference the Specialized carbon and Zertz inserts made but in my mind they helped keep the jarring down to a tolerable level. While doable it wasn't exactly pleasant. This was actually another experiment on the day. I wanted to see just how bad semi-rough trail is with a hard tail. It's bad enough. My interest in the Moots YBB is re-affirmed. If you consider doing this trail bring a mountain bike with plenty of rubber between you and trail. Keep your eyes open for obstacles as there are some really rough lines.
A short ride up Portsmouth, Squamscott, and College put me near the trail. The riding was easy, shoulders usually adequate, and morning traffic light enough. I found this building near the east end of the supposed trail head. I'm guessing this the old rail depot referenced on the TrailLink website. TrailLink really let me down on this one. They apparently recently moved GPS hosting to Garmin. Gamin bundles routes into region bundles for download. Garmin also imposes a bandwidth check that my mobile broadband card could not pass. I ended up using http://gmap-pedometer and the GMapToGPX script to map the route. I still need to submit feedback to Garmin and TrailLink.
The trail is a faint gap in the weeds off to the right.
Soon enough I found confirmation of the path.
Early going was good enough. I quickly realized my planned 15mph average speed was unrealistic. The new goal was anything over 10mph.
Shortly down the trail this stadium appeared off to the south. It seemed a bit large for a normal football field. I suspect a dirt track for racing.
Large portions of the trail were covered in this black gravel. It was almost charcoal at times at certainly marked up my bike and water bottles.
Some nice leftover railroad bridges on the route. All bridges and culvards had boards laid parallel to the trail in the center of the road bed. The ends, as well as all street crossings, showed clear evidence of scraping. I'm guessing that's from snowmobiles. Somewhere along the trial I saw 2 snow mobiles parked beside a shed. There were interesting to me mostly in their rarity. There was plenty of evidence of 4 wheelers on the trail. Several places had pretty deep banked corners where a 4 wheeler trail met up with the trail and overlapped for stretches.
I passed through the first town delighted to find Dunkin Donuts and Wendys. Those were good to keep in mind for later. This was the second town along the route. It was comforting to find civilization along the route.
This train depot, cars, and section of track receive plenty of TLC from the Raymond Historical Society. Between the full size train cars there was one rail service card about the size of a four wheeler with enclosed cabin.
The aforementioned culvards along the route were interesting. I saw them mentioned in trail reviews. This was my first encounter. As I slowed to take the picture I heard voices echoing through the tunnel. The fairly large group moved to the right to make room.
When I cleared the tunnel the group erupted. They were a group of cheerleaders. I was pushing the pace for multiple reasons. Cheering just pushed it further.
Further down the trail I passed two more groups of cheerleaders. The second group I think was the "C" squad. They barely managed to leave enough room for me to get buy. As I "buzzed" them with the sparse available space they squealed and shrieked in surprise. Their cheer squad leader had already ordered them make room twice. I was on my third call of "on your right" by the time I got to them. They managed no claps and no cheers.
The third group cleared the trail at the very last second and managed a couple of claps. I think they were the "B" squad.
Alone again on the trail I found this dock directly connected to the trail. It was a smooth ride down the trail, down the dock, and could have been right off into the water. I didn't stop to check but I'm betting it was cold. Ocean temps at nearby Cape Neddick are fluctuating between mid 50's and 60's.
Site of a former depot but this was the only remnant. I like including my bike in photos. It's a reminder that I was there. New for this trip is the third water bottle holder just behind the front tire. Only shorter bottles fit without rubbing the tire. Running out of water is a huge personal fear especially as I learn and experience more about bike packing. The fourth bottle, in the back pocket of the pannier, isn't included on the count of cages on the bike itself. Room for 3 insulated bottles now. Time for another acquisition.
This highlights one of the challenges of the approximately half dozen culvards. They are short with some shorter than others. Only one could I stand in. this one was about average. These also feature planks running parallel to the road bed that make for interesting riding surface. TrailLink recommends walking the culvards. I agree for safety. I did manage to ride all of them but with several hairy moments.
Coming out of the culvard is a nice downhill. The M.O. for culvards was flip on the headlight (just visible to the right of reflector in this picture), hammer the pedals to drive up the loose gravel climb, hug the top tube to be short enough to enter the culvard, focus on the floor looking for rocks and cracks in or in between boards, shoot out the other side, sit up, pick a line, and zoom down the hill. Culvard crossings were quite exhilarating.
This was the one nice tall culvard I could ride through unphased. The increased height also meant more light inside.
I found this bog interesting for the density of what I know as cat tails. They stand here dense like wheat in a field.
Here is another example of surface on the trail. Dodge the larger rocks. There are 2 vague tire tracks on the left and right. the undulations in the trail resembled moguls at times. I nearly got air just rolling along at 11.6MPH.
One genuine tunnel on the route. A nice underpass to avoid the road. There was some graffiti. There were some interesting official looking markings that contributed to the writing on the wall.
And finally the end of the trail in Manchester, NH. The end is rather unceremonious. Just before this the trail looked like someone plowed the original rail bed with a pointed blade typically seen on dozers for cutting firebreaks. There were railroad ties and spikes littering the left and right with a course but ridable bed in the middle. This is about 1 block east of Elliot Hospital. Take a right and immediate left for a road that leads directly to the hospital in case of any trail incidents. There is also a pizza shop to the immediate right that looks promising for carb re-loading.
Conveniently the CVS at the end of the trail is open 24x7. Great for resupply. In my case Pepsi and Peanut Butter cups for a boost. Oh, and a bit of shade.
Heading back east I encountered a road construction crew the second time. The "No Parking" signs clearly did not apply to them. Fortunately they did leave room for me to navigate on the eastbound leg. During the westbound leg they completely blocked the trail and sent me hiking through the brush.
Marsh land around Massabesic Lake. This bit reminded me of scenes from Georgia and Florida. It provided a nice bit of familiarity.
Here is the road bed inside one of the culvards. It's not terrible but it's not exactly highway grade roadbed for smooth sailing - especially for a cyclocross bike running 38mm(?) tires.
I tend to focus on the negative. This shot was intentional reminder that there are some nice sections of trail as well. Good surface, good shade, and smooth rolling.
It's really great to see the railroad infrastructure still in use. I've only seen sides on a bridge like this a few times. I'm guessing it is to protect the bridge from water prone to flooding. More research required.
The trail is primarily maintained by a snowmobile club. I never figured out how the gates at every road crossing could be compatible with snowmobiles. Snow life - it's all such a mystery.
The route was well signed. There are plenty of amenities available if the signs are to be believed. Most of the signs appeared printed on a home printer and the laminated. It's not durable but it is simple and efficient. I suspect one or two replacements during a short Maine summer suffice.
Fresh off the east end of the trail I found myself ravenous hungry. A Shell(?) gas station helped that with plenty of ice water and a single sleeve of Fig Newtons. Only three remained by the time I reached the cottage. It was refreshing to see 'teens staffing and stocking the store. Seems like the 'cheap unskilled labor' market hasn't yet been flooded here.
Setting out after resupply I followed 108 to 33 to some other roads to eventually 1. Most had a nice wide shoulder for riding. I don't know the real intent of the shoulder but it sure makes for good biking. It's a bit rough, seems to be concrete base about 15-20' long that's been paved over. There are bumps but you're free to take the bumps without worring about getting creamed by passing traffic.
At one point my hastily planned route carried me through an office park and onto this closed overpass. A nice wide bridge just for my little bicycle.
Coming down the other side provided a bit more signage and traffic!
Taking a right on the path in the picture above led to this dedicated bike path. I really enjoyed my short stint of biking in NH.
Heading up 1 I crossed the grated bridge from NH into ME. Riding the grating was a bit of adventure but it was expected. There were sidewalks open to pedestrians but foreboding signs for cyclists. Traffic was low and my speed was high so I stuck with the road and things worked out.
I continued up 1 with its wide shoulders rather than trying backroads. Slower pace on the railtrail had already consumed my allotted time for the trip. The wide shoulder was great. The ride wasn't as scenic but I'd already enjoyed 50+ miles of good scenery.
I finished the day with around 85 miles. If I was a martini I was shaken and stirred from the terrain and rough joints in the road. All in all it was a great ride though.
In Jill Homer's book she shares a tip she learned for avoiding mosquitos - keep it over 10MPH. In my informal testing it held up. I carried one of the new Off Clip-ons for just-in-case. Mosquitoes were on me like white on rice when I stopped to grab something from the pannier or exchange water bottles. Normally I can do sundries while rolling but trying that on this trail garnered a sharp jolt at best and an endo at worst. With a flat or any mechanical the bug repellent would have been a life saver.
The trail bed is also pretty rough. It was ridable on my cyclocross bike. I don't know how much difference the Specialized carbon and Zertz inserts made but in my mind they helped keep the jarring down to a tolerable level. While doable it wasn't exactly pleasant. This was actually another experiment on the day. I wanted to see just how bad semi-rough trail is with a hard tail. It's bad enough. My interest in the Moots YBB is re-affirmed. If you consider doing this trail bring a mountain bike with plenty of rubber between you and trail. Keep your eyes open for obstacles as there are some really rough lines.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Tour de Cure
After yet more procrastination we decided on Tour de Cure for our Saturday 6/4 ride. The options were 3 Mountain Madness or Tour de Cure. I setup a poll using Google docs and Tour de Cure won out. One decision down, many more to go.
Tour de Cure is more like a series of events rather than a single event. There were 4 or 5 ride options both Saturday and Sunday. For each ride a portion of the route overlapped. Kenneth was feeling short still recovering from hand cramps from last weekend's 199 mile double down. He was apprehensive(40 miles from Cary on Sunday), Jeff was pressed for time (40 miles from Cary on Sunday), Rebecca was in within reason (100 miles from Cary on Saturday), and I was my normal froggy self hoping for 100 Saturday and 100 on Sunday.
Registration was the next obstacle. Rebecca and I finally got in for the 100 on Saturday. We observed some subtle resistance to our casual approach to the event. Eventually we were registered and in the car enroute to the start at 6:30AM on Saturday.
On the drive we realized a logistical flaw - the ride went from Cary to Southern Pines - 60+ miles away. The shorter out and back options all left from Southern Pines. We were too late to reach that starting line on time. There was a shorter 75 mile route that went Cary to Southern Pines. We could ride that and then ride back for 150 but Rebecca rejected that option. Borrowing a page from Donna's book we went for it hoping for the best. At packet pickup we encountered more resistance to our casual approach. Eventually we had packets, numbers, and out of good fortune, transportation for us and bikes back to Cary. The only inconvenience was timing - transportation left for Cary at 8:30PM - several hours after we would finish the ride. We resided on napping in any available shade and threw a backpack with our minimal accidental provisions in the baggage truck for transport to Southern Pines.
With the last minute scrambling we rolled to the start just as they announced the start of the race. Perfection in my mind; chaos in Rebecca's.
We planned to ride together. We're getting better with our paceline where the stronger rider leads and the other follows. A few short minutes into the ride Chris invited us to join his group. We were riding similar pace and they were looking to grow their group to facilitate faster riding. We fell in and made new friends with Chris, Ray, Alan, and Clint.
I'm still learning group riding so I just sat in and observed for a while. Leaders were pulling for around 10 minutes. The pack was bunching up going downhill when leaders didn't pedal. Thanks Tarwheels! Eventually I got a chance to pull and went for it. In observing I learned the leader is pretty much on wind duty. The second helps regulate pace and points out obstacles. Mid pack perpetuates obstacle identification and the rest hang on. Our goal was to keep the group together so stragglers occasionally needed to speak up. In my mental picture these were the roles and responsibilities. Any breakdown would break the group. We broke alot.
The first couple hours we cruised around 17 mph. Rebecca was delighted. She normally struggles for 15. Group riding is great for pushing the pace. There were a few hills so she just had to push the hills and sit in for the rest. I quickly paired up with Alan to chat and pull. We would get started chatting and lose track of time and the group. Oops. Ray would fall in behind me and we would cruise along. Some mile later we'd look up and see the group splintered out behind us. My group riding needs more practice.
Gus described a "15 mph ride" as doing 15mph on flats and hills. It seemed strange to me but that was my most recent reference for pace line etiquette. When I held, or tried to hold, a steady pace uphill the group fractured. Consensus was that was OK so long as we coasted downhill so people could catch up. That didn't work so well for me. I like to say I "climb pretty well for a fat guy". That means I get to the top OK and the coast downhill pretty fast; remarkably fast in our group. No one could coast anywhere near my speed going downhill. So I tried to ease up even more going uphill. Yep, my paceline still needs practice.
The morning was cool and the miles easy. Shortly after we entered "the desert", an area that appeared to be a mining operation for sand, Rebecca developed a slow leak. We pushed through to the next aid station and started to change it ourselves. Then a bike mechanic showed up and volunteered to help. He was just arriving so we waited for him to get setup. He changed the tube and placed a piece of tape over a suspected burr in one of the joints of the rim.
We were off again on a heavily trafficed high speed sun bleached two lane road. I was happy for the left turn that ended that stretch. We unfortunately lost Clint. He was struggling a bit for the 75. Then we lost Chris. Then we found Southern Pines. It was a nice area with shady roads. After a rest stop and Chris rejoining we set out for the extra 25 mile loop to reach 95, or 100, or actually, what ended up being 104.
That loop proved perilous. Alan lost a water bottle that almost took out the peleton. Rebecca developed another slow leak in the rear tire. The loop rejoined the main route shortly before the monster climb of the day. I was much more excited about this than the rest of the group. Approaching the climb I ticked up to the highest gear and laid into the pedals. About half way up I dropped to the middle ring and refocused. I crested the hill in middle ring and little sprocket. The burn felt great.
Shortly after this Rebeeca's slow leak pulled us off the group. Alan and Ray went ahead. Chris soon passed and checked on us. We stopped twice to add air to the tire anticipating it would last to the end of the ride. At the 95 mile aid station we found the same bike mechanic from earlier. He happily agreed to take a second look. He worked on four bikes that day. Two of them were Rebecca's. This time he found a puncture. This assuaged our fears of continued rim troubles. Then we continued on toward the finish.
Before the finish a big shout out to Tour de Cure organizers. Every aid station was well stocked. They were frequent. And they had the BEST THING EVER for a bike aid station - ICE. Buckets of ICE. Every aid station I refilled bottles with ice and topped off Gatorade or Perform Rebecca and I were carrying. The ice combined with insulated bottles kept us in cool drink for the entire day. This was amazingly refreshing. In a race I might not take the time. In a charity ride it was bliss.
After meandering through several neighborhoods we found the finish in Aberdeen. We whiled away our time waiting for the return shuttle. Ride organizers came through again. We enjoyed post-ride beer, hotdogs, and burgers. Then after a pseudo-nap in the hall floor of the Hampton we enjoyed pasta dinner. Ride organizers shared a few words and stories that drew honest laughter. There were very interesting words from Tony at Type1Rider.org who is heading out this week to start the Tour Divide. We exchanged Facebook information with our new friends and set out for the shuttle home.
On the ride home we enjoyed great conversation with a guy from California who drove down from Charlotte to do the ride. He was a 1:10 half marathoner and did the 100 miles with a pack around 24mph. Wow. Gotta catch that group next time. Next year we'd like to do 2x100 staying overnight in Aberdeen and riding back on Sunday. We were invited this time but just not quite prepared. Next time.
Rebecca did great even after a bit of self doubt. I reminded her:
Tour de Cure is more like a series of events rather than a single event. There were 4 or 5 ride options both Saturday and Sunday. For each ride a portion of the route overlapped. Kenneth was feeling short still recovering from hand cramps from last weekend's 199 mile double down. He was apprehensive(40 miles from Cary on Sunday), Jeff was pressed for time (40 miles from Cary on Sunday), Rebecca was in within reason (100 miles from Cary on Saturday), and I was my normal froggy self hoping for 100 Saturday and 100 on Sunday.
Registration was the next obstacle. Rebecca and I finally got in for the 100 on Saturday. We observed some subtle resistance to our casual approach to the event. Eventually we were registered and in the car enroute to the start at 6:30AM on Saturday.
On the drive we realized a logistical flaw - the ride went from Cary to Southern Pines - 60+ miles away. The shorter out and back options all left from Southern Pines. We were too late to reach that starting line on time. There was a shorter 75 mile route that went Cary to Southern Pines. We could ride that and then ride back for 150 but Rebecca rejected that option. Borrowing a page from Donna's book we went for it hoping for the best. At packet pickup we encountered more resistance to our casual approach. Eventually we had packets, numbers, and out of good fortune, transportation for us and bikes back to Cary. The only inconvenience was timing - transportation left for Cary at 8:30PM - several hours after we would finish the ride. We resided on napping in any available shade and threw a backpack with our minimal accidental provisions in the baggage truck for transport to Southern Pines.
With the last minute scrambling we rolled to the start just as they announced the start of the race. Perfection in my mind; chaos in Rebecca's.
We planned to ride together. We're getting better with our paceline where the stronger rider leads and the other follows. A few short minutes into the ride Chris invited us to join his group. We were riding similar pace and they were looking to grow their group to facilitate faster riding. We fell in and made new friends with Chris, Ray, Alan, and Clint.
I'm still learning group riding so I just sat in and observed for a while. Leaders were pulling for around 10 minutes. The pack was bunching up going downhill when leaders didn't pedal. Thanks Tarwheels! Eventually I got a chance to pull and went for it. In observing I learned the leader is pretty much on wind duty. The second helps regulate pace and points out obstacles. Mid pack perpetuates obstacle identification and the rest hang on. Our goal was to keep the group together so stragglers occasionally needed to speak up. In my mental picture these were the roles and responsibilities. Any breakdown would break the group. We broke alot.
The first couple hours we cruised around 17 mph. Rebecca was delighted. She normally struggles for 15. Group riding is great for pushing the pace. There were a few hills so she just had to push the hills and sit in for the rest. I quickly paired up with Alan to chat and pull. We would get started chatting and lose track of time and the group. Oops. Ray would fall in behind me and we would cruise along. Some mile later we'd look up and see the group splintered out behind us. My group riding needs more practice.
Gus described a "15 mph ride" as doing 15mph on flats and hills. It seemed strange to me but that was my most recent reference for pace line etiquette. When I held, or tried to hold, a steady pace uphill the group fractured. Consensus was that was OK so long as we coasted downhill so people could catch up. That didn't work so well for me. I like to say I "climb pretty well for a fat guy". That means I get to the top OK and the coast downhill pretty fast; remarkably fast in our group. No one could coast anywhere near my speed going downhill. So I tried to ease up even more going uphill. Yep, my paceline still needs practice.
The morning was cool and the miles easy. Shortly after we entered "the desert", an area that appeared to be a mining operation for sand, Rebecca developed a slow leak. We pushed through to the next aid station and started to change it ourselves. Then a bike mechanic showed up and volunteered to help. He was just arriving so we waited for him to get setup. He changed the tube and placed a piece of tape over a suspected burr in one of the joints of the rim.
We were off again on a heavily trafficed high speed sun bleached two lane road. I was happy for the left turn that ended that stretch. We unfortunately lost Clint. He was struggling a bit for the 75. Then we lost Chris. Then we found Southern Pines. It was a nice area with shady roads. After a rest stop and Chris rejoining we set out for the extra 25 mile loop to reach 95, or 100, or actually, what ended up being 104.
That loop proved perilous. Alan lost a water bottle that almost took out the peleton. Rebecca developed another slow leak in the rear tire. The loop rejoined the main route shortly before the monster climb of the day. I was much more excited about this than the rest of the group. Approaching the climb I ticked up to the highest gear and laid into the pedals. About half way up I dropped to the middle ring and refocused. I crested the hill in middle ring and little sprocket. The burn felt great.
Shortly after this Rebeeca's slow leak pulled us off the group. Alan and Ray went ahead. Chris soon passed and checked on us. We stopped twice to add air to the tire anticipating it would last to the end of the ride. At the 95 mile aid station we found the same bike mechanic from earlier. He happily agreed to take a second look. He worked on four bikes that day. Two of them were Rebecca's. This time he found a puncture. This assuaged our fears of continued rim troubles. Then we continued on toward the finish.
Before the finish a big shout out to Tour de Cure organizers. Every aid station was well stocked. They were frequent. And they had the BEST THING EVER for a bike aid station - ICE. Buckets of ICE. Every aid station I refilled bottles with ice and topped off Gatorade or Perform Rebecca and I were carrying. The ice combined with insulated bottles kept us in cool drink for the entire day. This was amazingly refreshing. In a race I might not take the time. In a charity ride it was bliss.
After meandering through several neighborhoods we found the finish in Aberdeen. We whiled away our time waiting for the return shuttle. Ride organizers came through again. We enjoyed post-ride beer, hotdogs, and burgers. Then after a pseudo-nap in the hall floor of the Hampton we enjoyed pasta dinner. Ride organizers shared a few words and stories that drew honest laughter. There were very interesting words from Tony at Type1Rider.org who is heading out this week to start the Tour Divide. We exchanged Facebook information with our new friends and set out for the shuttle home.
On the ride home we enjoyed great conversation with a guy from California who drove down from Charlotte to do the ride. He was a 1:10 half marathoner and did the 100 miles with a pack around 24mph. Wow. Gotta catch that group next time. Next year we'd like to do 2x100 staying overnight in Aberdeen and riding back on Sunday. We were invited this time but just not quite prepared. Next time.
Rebecca did great even after a bit of self doubt. I reminded her:
- She had her first 100 mile ride last weekend
- She rode 200 miles total last weekend
- She was doing her 3rd 100 mile ride here, on Saturday, for 303 miles total in 8 short days.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Silver Comet May 2011
After much deferred planning Kenneth, Rebecca, and I made it down to Georgia to Ride the Silver Comet and Chief Ladiga trails. We had a late departure on Saturday slowed by last minute packing, rain, and a stripped screw on the one bike luggage rack that would carry all of our gear for the weekend. After some careful packing to fit everyone's gear and a stop at True Value for longer screws for the luggage rack we finally hit the road. The road greeted us with holiday traffic and more rain. Several hours in we stopped at Golden Corral for dinner. Yeast rolls are great carb loading for the upcoming ride. Friday night we slept at Comfort Inn near the Smyrna trail head. On casual inspection it was about a mile to the trail head on neighborhood streets.
Saturday morning we were treated to some great hills enroute to the Silver Comet Connector. The 50ish pounds of gear in panniers made for interesting climbing. It was a great refresher of the benefits of rail trail.
We found the trail head and immediate evidence of tornadoes that recently ripped through the city.
Kenneth picking his way through the fallen trees.
Rebecca picking her way through the fallen trees.
We saw no less than half a dozen trees fallen on or by the trail. The first was the worse. We were able to ride by or under the rest. At least one was low enough to require butt behind the seat, belly on the seat, hugging the top tube, skimming under with no room for a camel back. Glad it stayed in the car. Finally we were on our way. Heavy traffic on the trail in Smyrna made a fun obstacle course. I felt like a broken record "on your left... on your left... on your left...". We finally escaped the metro density and found smooth sailing.
We hit Frankie's in Rockmart for a late lunch around 1:30. Even the bike rack out front was bursting at the seams. Frankie never made it to our table to get pictures and encourage signing the wall. I was disappointed for Kenneth and Rebecca as they missed out on the warm welcome I experienced on my first trip through. True to predictions Rebecca loved the park area in Rockmart and stopped for pictures.
From Rockmart to Cedartown we found the hilly section of Silver Comet. It's a mixed blessing the original rail bed could not be secured. The hills again make us thankful. It's a fresh change of pace though to grunt up the hill by the dump. Later in the trip we unanimously agreed the hills are worse going in the westerly direction.
In this same section of trail just outside Cedeardown on Sunday there were several flags hanging from the trees. It was great to see Memorial day honored even on the trail. Cedartown was equally unremarkable this trip. It's such a shame. With the depot and mural coming into town it looks cyclist friendly. This town really fits the saying "don't judge a book by its cover". The Mexican Grocery just behind the depot proved adequate for restocking. The people were very friendly offering us ice from their own personal stash when they didn't have ice for sale. On the return trip we tried the convenience store down the street and paid $0.25 per cup of ice. It was less personal but also faster.
We pushed on to the Alabama line and Chief Ladiga. Rebecca's shadow at the top of the picture reveals our late afternoon timing.
Kenneth took a bit of time to stretch. Rebecca was anxious to ride. She started ahead with agreement we would catch up quickly. She reached just around the next bend and got a bit spooked. It's distinctly remote and back-woodsy in this section. We reassembled our group and setup a nice 20+mph cruise through Talladega National Forest down into Alabama.
I took a picture of this same field during my fall ride. In that one a combine is harvesting. It's somehow comforting to see the crop cycle at work.
At Eubanks Welcome Center in Piedmont Kenneth and Rebecca were both still feeling froggy. Quick mental calculation allowed us to reach the end of the trail and circle back to Jacksonville with good daylight to spare. The mood was optimistic and the miles were rolling.
Soon after this both Rebecca and Kenneth exceeded their longest rides of the year. Coasting ceased and a gradual uphill set in. This dampened the energy and mood a bit. Knee troubles checked our progress for the day at Hampton Inn in Jacksonville, AL.
The hotel recently suffered extensive water damage on the first floor. The cozy lobby from my last visit was stripped down to concrete floors. We lounged in our room and eventually ordered pizza for dinner. We fell through a time warp arriving around 7PM but not having dinner until 10. Collectively we still cannot figure out where the time went. The Papa John's pizza was simultaneously delicious and devoured.
On Sunday morning the fully featured Hampton Inn breakfast was reduced to continental breakfast. It appeared a bit light for our taste so we walked to Huddle House in the adjacent parking lot craving eggs. Strange looks as we walked in provided the first reminder we were "not in Kansas anymore". From there it was a steady spiral down with tons of stares and air thick with cigarette smoke. There was no non-smoking section. People who barely fit through the front door first lit up and then ordered plates of food so large that we couldn't imagine eating after 93 miles yesterday and 106 on deck for today. It was a stark reminder of why America has a health epidemic.
We made our way back to the smoke-free safety of our hotel. We lost a bit more time to extra clothes washing required to remove the heavy smoke.
A few miles down the trail I found inspiration to forgive the mornings misadventures. Weaver, AL has this great BMX track adjacent to the Chief Ladiga trail. I was delighted to be on my cross bike. I stripped off the panniers, tank bag, lock, bottles, pump, and headlight. The guard rail was full by the time I finished unloading the bike. The bike handled strange just leaving the platform and heading onto the track. Then there was the surface change - packed clay with lose granules versus the 97 miles of pavement in the previous 30 hours. 2/3 of the way through the first curve I remembered I'd shed extra gear so I could accelerate and plant into the walls. Then it got really fun. I found my stride by the third curve and accelerated hard into the embankment. Unfortunately I also stuttered on the pedals so the bike slid sideways down the embankment. It almost got ugly. Fast.
Gasping for air and grinning ear to ear I stopped after 1 run. It was a blast that I would love to repeat. 97 miles from 'home' with single reliance on the bike and myself to get back it seemed ill advised to push my luck any further. One good run and done. It was enough to brighten my morning.
We found the sad site that is the end of the trail. The rail line clearly went further but the trail stopped. Why can't the trail just keep going?
Then we turned north east to begin our return trip. There is something about the stretch from Alabama to Georgia that puts me in a head down cruising mode. It is uphill. It isn't particularly scenic until Talladega National Forest. There is little shade from the South and East which make speed the only cooling factor. Or maybe it was the late hour. Again I found myself heading toward a Georgia and 11am concurrently.
Just off the trail there is a small race track. They appeared to be setting up for lawnmower races when we passed Saturday evening.
Dugger Mountain range off to the south east as we cruised along Chief Ladiga.
In Talladega National Forest we stopped for pictures on scenic bridges.
Rebecca was strong and steady on her preference to complete the ride in two days. Stopping short of the trail end on Saturday meant a longer day on Sunday. Add to that the climb from Alabama into Georgia, second day legs, and the prospect of another new longest ride for both Kenneth and Rebecca and we had ourselves some challenges. And did I mention we got a late start? Georgia trail signs was very clear about trail hours - daylight. We would be pushing pace and daylight to exit the trail before dark.
Approaching the state line I struck up conversation with another rider on the trail. Jack was out for a leisurely 28 mile ride - on his 77th birthday. He's an avid rider and travels to NC semi-frequently to ride Tsali. Wow. These encounters highlight the trip for me. Parting ways with Jack we met Donna. We'd jockeyed back and forth with her for most of the morning alternating stops for pictures and food. Donna was riding all 60 miles round trip of the Chief Ladiga trail by herself. Her riding partners bailed on her but she felt like riding. She was quite the adventurous spirit. This was her first ride in new Keen biking sandals. She was biking alone in a pretty remote area. In casual conversation she came with a few questions including the condition of her tires as she'd never changed them and didn't know how to change a tube. Adventurous spirit indeed. She only had about 500 miles on them so she should be good to go. We bid Donna farewell asking her to keep watch on Kentucky as we would be traveling there in August for Rebecca's event.
We semi-stumbled into a pace line in Alabama. After crossing the Georgia line we grew more focused on our pace line. The Advil was flowing, hours were taking toll, the sun was falling, and we had an appointment with the eastern end of the trail.
40, 30, 20, 10, single digits. We cruised toward Smyrna. Finally I partook of the Advil as well. It was a long two days on a semi uncomfortable saddle. I need to improve that. It's good enough most of the time but could be better. We saw dusk and finally dark on the trail. Most of the fallen trees were removed. Bike lights and head lamps showed the way through the night. Having lights really helped to see the dwindling walkers on the trail wearing all black after dark. It is just as important to be seen as it is to see.
At the Silver Comet Connector no one could fathom riding the steep hills of the neighborhood to get back to the hotel and our car. We tried the direct route hoping for sidewalks only to be disappointed. Smyrna roads are not cyclist friendly. It was dark. We were stuck on a 5 lane road with no sidewalks. It was a stark contrast to the 200 miles of cycling serenity. We played frogger waiting in the grass until a traffic light stopped traffic in our direction. Then we would spring a few hundred yards further down the road only to pull off when cars started approaching again. Fortunately we only needed to go about 1/2 mile.
We checked into Country Inn and Suites this time. Amenities are nicer, price is the same, and the car was walking distance away. Kenneth and Rebecca set about ordering dinner and I went to retrieve the car. We pedaled hard anticipating a tasty beer at the end of the day. Georgia on Sunday had other plans - no alcohol. I've been away long enough to forget this. Even NC sells beer on Sunday after 12:00. We were left with another pizza dinner and various convenience store treats.
Two days and 199 miles. Everyone was glad to sit on car seats rather than bike seats the next day. No one took more Advil. We fared well. Kenneth seemed to have it the worst with a left hand muscle strain that challenged manual dexterity.
199 car free miles with no mechanical failures - not even a flat. It was a great trip.
A few optimizations for subsequent trips:
Saturday morning we were treated to some great hills enroute to the Silver Comet Connector. The 50ish pounds of gear in panniers made for interesting climbing. It was a great refresher of the benefits of rail trail.
We found the trail head and immediate evidence of tornadoes that recently ripped through the city.
Kenneth picking his way through the fallen trees.
Rebecca picking her way through the fallen trees.
We saw no less than half a dozen trees fallen on or by the trail. The first was the worse. We were able to ride by or under the rest. At least one was low enough to require butt behind the seat, belly on the seat, hugging the top tube, skimming under with no room for a camel back. Glad it stayed in the car. Finally we were on our way. Heavy traffic on the trail in Smyrna made a fun obstacle course. I felt like a broken record "on your left... on your left... on your left...". We finally escaped the metro density and found smooth sailing.
We hit Frankie's in Rockmart for a late lunch around 1:30. Even the bike rack out front was bursting at the seams. Frankie never made it to our table to get pictures and encourage signing the wall. I was disappointed for Kenneth and Rebecca as they missed out on the warm welcome I experienced on my first trip through. True to predictions Rebecca loved the park area in Rockmart and stopped for pictures.
From Rockmart to Cedartown we found the hilly section of Silver Comet. It's a mixed blessing the original rail bed could not be secured. The hills again make us thankful. It's a fresh change of pace though to grunt up the hill by the dump. Later in the trip we unanimously agreed the hills are worse going in the westerly direction.
In this same section of trail just outside Cedeardown on Sunday there were several flags hanging from the trees. It was great to see Memorial day honored even on the trail. Cedartown was equally unremarkable this trip. It's such a shame. With the depot and mural coming into town it looks cyclist friendly. This town really fits the saying "don't judge a book by its cover". The Mexican Grocery just behind the depot proved adequate for restocking. The people were very friendly offering us ice from their own personal stash when they didn't have ice for sale. On the return trip we tried the convenience store down the street and paid $0.25 per cup of ice. It was less personal but also faster.
We pushed on to the Alabama line and Chief Ladiga. Rebecca's shadow at the top of the picture reveals our late afternoon timing.
Kenneth took a bit of time to stretch. Rebecca was anxious to ride. She started ahead with agreement we would catch up quickly. She reached just around the next bend and got a bit spooked. It's distinctly remote and back-woodsy in this section. We reassembled our group and setup a nice 20+mph cruise through Talladega National Forest down into Alabama.
I took a picture of this same field during my fall ride. In that one a combine is harvesting. It's somehow comforting to see the crop cycle at work.
At Eubanks Welcome Center in Piedmont Kenneth and Rebecca were both still feeling froggy. Quick mental calculation allowed us to reach the end of the trail and circle back to Jacksonville with good daylight to spare. The mood was optimistic and the miles were rolling.
Soon after this both Rebecca and Kenneth exceeded their longest rides of the year. Coasting ceased and a gradual uphill set in. This dampened the energy and mood a bit. Knee troubles checked our progress for the day at Hampton Inn in Jacksonville, AL.
The hotel recently suffered extensive water damage on the first floor. The cozy lobby from my last visit was stripped down to concrete floors. We lounged in our room and eventually ordered pizza for dinner. We fell through a time warp arriving around 7PM but not having dinner until 10. Collectively we still cannot figure out where the time went. The Papa John's pizza was simultaneously delicious and devoured.
On Sunday morning the fully featured Hampton Inn breakfast was reduced to continental breakfast. It appeared a bit light for our taste so we walked to Huddle House in the adjacent parking lot craving eggs. Strange looks as we walked in provided the first reminder we were "not in Kansas anymore". From there it was a steady spiral down with tons of stares and air thick with cigarette smoke. There was no non-smoking section. People who barely fit through the front door first lit up and then ordered plates of food so large that we couldn't imagine eating after 93 miles yesterday and 106 on deck for today. It was a stark reminder of why America has a health epidemic.
We made our way back to the smoke-free safety of our hotel. We lost a bit more time to extra clothes washing required to remove the heavy smoke.
A few miles down the trail I found inspiration to forgive the mornings misadventures. Weaver, AL has this great BMX track adjacent to the Chief Ladiga trail. I was delighted to be on my cross bike. I stripped off the panniers, tank bag, lock, bottles, pump, and headlight. The guard rail was full by the time I finished unloading the bike. The bike handled strange just leaving the platform and heading onto the track. Then there was the surface change - packed clay with lose granules versus the 97 miles of pavement in the previous 30 hours. 2/3 of the way through the first curve I remembered I'd shed extra gear so I could accelerate and plant into the walls. Then it got really fun. I found my stride by the third curve and accelerated hard into the embankment. Unfortunately I also stuttered on the pedals so the bike slid sideways down the embankment. It almost got ugly. Fast.
Gasping for air and grinning ear to ear I stopped after 1 run. It was a blast that I would love to repeat. 97 miles from 'home' with single reliance on the bike and myself to get back it seemed ill advised to push my luck any further. One good run and done. It was enough to brighten my morning.
We found the sad site that is the end of the trail. The rail line clearly went further but the trail stopped. Why can't the trail just keep going?
Then we turned north east to begin our return trip. There is something about the stretch from Alabama to Georgia that puts me in a head down cruising mode. It is uphill. It isn't particularly scenic until Talladega National Forest. There is little shade from the South and East which make speed the only cooling factor. Or maybe it was the late hour. Again I found myself heading toward a Georgia and 11am concurrently.
Just off the trail there is a small race track. They appeared to be setting up for lawnmower races when we passed Saturday evening.
Dugger Mountain range off to the south east as we cruised along Chief Ladiga.
In Talladega National Forest we stopped for pictures on scenic bridges.
Rebecca was strong and steady on her preference to complete the ride in two days. Stopping short of the trail end on Saturday meant a longer day on Sunday. Add to that the climb from Alabama into Georgia, second day legs, and the prospect of another new longest ride for both Kenneth and Rebecca and we had ourselves some challenges. And did I mention we got a late start? Georgia trail signs was very clear about trail hours - daylight. We would be pushing pace and daylight to exit the trail before dark.
Approaching the state line I struck up conversation with another rider on the trail. Jack was out for a leisurely 28 mile ride - on his 77th birthday. He's an avid rider and travels to NC semi-frequently to ride Tsali. Wow. These encounters highlight the trip for me. Parting ways with Jack we met Donna. We'd jockeyed back and forth with her for most of the morning alternating stops for pictures and food. Donna was riding all 60 miles round trip of the Chief Ladiga trail by herself. Her riding partners bailed on her but she felt like riding. She was quite the adventurous spirit. This was her first ride in new Keen biking sandals. She was biking alone in a pretty remote area. In casual conversation she came with a few questions including the condition of her tires as she'd never changed them and didn't know how to change a tube. Adventurous spirit indeed. She only had about 500 miles on them so she should be good to go. We bid Donna farewell asking her to keep watch on Kentucky as we would be traveling there in August for Rebecca's event.
We semi-stumbled into a pace line in Alabama. After crossing the Georgia line we grew more focused on our pace line. The Advil was flowing, hours were taking toll, the sun was falling, and we had an appointment with the eastern end of the trail.
40, 30, 20, 10, single digits. We cruised toward Smyrna. Finally I partook of the Advil as well. It was a long two days on a semi uncomfortable saddle. I need to improve that. It's good enough most of the time but could be better. We saw dusk and finally dark on the trail. Most of the fallen trees were removed. Bike lights and head lamps showed the way through the night. Having lights really helped to see the dwindling walkers on the trail wearing all black after dark. It is just as important to be seen as it is to see.
At the Silver Comet Connector no one could fathom riding the steep hills of the neighborhood to get back to the hotel and our car. We tried the direct route hoping for sidewalks only to be disappointed. Smyrna roads are not cyclist friendly. It was dark. We were stuck on a 5 lane road with no sidewalks. It was a stark contrast to the 200 miles of cycling serenity. We played frogger waiting in the grass until a traffic light stopped traffic in our direction. Then we would spring a few hundred yards further down the road only to pull off when cars started approaching again. Fortunately we only needed to go about 1/2 mile.
We checked into Country Inn and Suites this time. Amenities are nicer, price is the same, and the car was walking distance away. Kenneth and Rebecca set about ordering dinner and I went to retrieve the car. We pedaled hard anticipating a tasty beer at the end of the day. Georgia on Sunday had other plans - no alcohol. I've been away long enough to forget this. Even NC sells beer on Sunday after 12:00. We were left with another pizza dinner and various convenience store treats.
Two days and 199 miles. Everyone was glad to sit on car seats rather than bike seats the next day. No one took more Advil. We fared well. Kenneth seemed to have it the worst with a left hand muscle strain that challenged manual dexterity.
199 car free miles with no mechanical failures - not even a flat. It was a great trip.
A few optimizations for subsequent trips:
- Bob trailer or heavier wheel set for my cross bike when carrying panniers and provisions for three. I was constantly worried about a wheel/spoke failure.
- Hotel breakfast or take out from nearby. If the hotel is not serving good breakfast then run next door to waffle/huddle house and retrieve veggie omelets. It's quicker and simpler for all - especially in smoker-friendly areas.
- Earlier starts are mandatory. We were extremely lucky to make our destinations at reasonable hours given relatively late starts.
- Pace line is the way to go. Take turns leading if necessary or let weaker riders just sit in. The 20% energy is handy later - like ordering and retrieving dinner!
- Start on dinner arrangements immediately at the end of ride. Get it ordered or decided before doing anything else.
- Advil/Tylenol goes in the easily accessible pouch, not with the first aid kit at the bottom of the gear bag.
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