St. Louis 600K Ride Report
June 16, 2007
By David Bauer
At the beginning of the year, I marked the St. Louis 600K on my list of likely rides. I wanted to complete two full series (200/300/400/600K), and the Georgia and Tennessee 600K rides were during my family vacation. My goal for this ride was to simulate the conditions that I would face during PBP (Paris-Brest-Paris); that meant keeping "off-bike time" to a bare minimum and riding the entire distance without sleep, which would be the halfway point of PBP. I was pleased to find out that a number of folks from Nashville were traveling to St. Louis for the ride, many of whom had been there before.
Jeff Sammons and I drove to Edwardsville, IL, for the start of the St. Louis 600K. After checking into a motel in the town of Troy, Jeff suggested that we drive to the starting parking lot, which eliminated one potential headache that we might have had to deal with in the morning. While in town, we also found a nice restaurant/sports bar where we had dinner.
After about five hours of sleep, we got up and prepared to begin the ride at 5am. About a dozen riders began the ride, only eight of which were planning on riding the full 600K. Led by a local rider who had completed the 600K two weeks ago, we began riding on a pleasant bike trail. After a few miles, we exited bike path and began the first leg of the ride. I met Tom, who was looking to complete his first 600K. We had a pleasant visit, and then decided to work together to get to the first control as quickly as possible. There was a slight headwind/crosswind, so trading pulls was definitely helpful. The terrain was flat, the weather was comfortable, and we made great time. We encountered the lead rider returning home, who informed us that the lead group, made up of Jeff, Bill, Alan, and Peter, were about two minutes ahead of us. I did not expect to see the "Nashville Peleton" again until the end of the ride. However, a little while later, I spotted them repairing Peter's tire along the road. Tom and I made it to the first control at Breece, followed in short order by the Nashville Peleton.
Impatient to get back on the bike, I quickly started again, at a slower pace, hoping that Tom would catch up with me. I made my only wrong turn at the only unmarked road on the route, but I quickly recovered with only one bonus mile. Shortly thereafter, I found Scott and Steve, two local riders who were doing a 200K, which crossed paths with the 600K at certain points. They were ultra-distance runners, and when Scott found out I was from Tennessee, he asked if I knew a crazy fixed gear cyclist in the Harpeth Bike Club. They were quite surprised to learn that it was my brother Jeff, with whom he had exchanged e-mails on fixed gear riding. They wanted to take my picture, being the brother of a folk hero, but I instead sat behind Scott's wheel for a few miles. I finally took my turn at the front, trying to maintain the same pace, but I looked around and they were not there. I am sure I still have a lot to learn about pace lines, as I mainly ride solo. I rode into the second control at Okaville, followed quickly by Scott, Steve, Tom, and the Nashville Peleton.
As I left Okaville, I noticed the temperature had gone from warm to hot. My pace slowed a little with the heat, but I was still making good time. I had decided to make an intermediate stop in Dix to get more provisions. A few miles from Dix, I was caught by the Nashville Peleton, and I rode with them until we stopped at convenience store. After getting some provisions, I quickly began another "break-away". The route changed from flat to rolling, but the hills were not steep. I met the RBA John Jost along the way to the next control, which was Wilkey's Cafe in Belle Rive. The Nashville Peleton apparently spotted me near the control, but decided not to waste their energy reeling me in…
I was a little skeptical of stopping for a "sit-down" meal, but once I got there, I was glad I did. At the entrance to the cafe was an old kid's bike, and one of the restaurant workers tried to induce me to ride it to the next control. Another of the restaurant staff filled my water bottles and hydration pack with water and ice. I wasn't real hungry with the heat, but I enjoyed three types of delicious pasta salad and rice pudding. The Nashville Peleton arrived, and they were treated with the same kindness, including one of the workers making lemonade especially for Jeff Sammons.
I started another "breakaway" and decided to stop at a convenience store in Creal Springs en-route to Vienna. As I approached the store, I noticed a mother pulling her daughter on along in a wagon, which I thought was kind of nice. She also entered the convenience store, but instead of buying anything of value, simply purchased "lotto tickets". Her daughter, still in the wagon, began to cry, and the mother gave her one of the used lottery tickets to play with.
I set out for Vienna, and was passed by John Jost again, right before turning onto a 16 mile rails-to-trails route that would take me to the control. The trail was made of crushed limestone, which I initially was leery about, but it turned out to be just fine. The soft pavement was actually a welcome relief for my feet, hands, and backside. I rode slowly, dodging branches and rocks along the way, but I witnessed a deer, turtle, and heard several whippoorwills. It turned from twilight to dark while on the trail, and I met no other travelers along the way. There was a long tunnel through Tunnel Hill, along with a half dozen of so bridges. We had been warned that the pavement in the tunnel might be mushy, but it was solid and well-lit by my bike lights.
I arrived at Vienna around 10pm, and checking in at the control, which was a motel, and then stopped at a convenience store for some food and water. As I set out towards the town of Anna, I spotted the Nashville Peleton, who had just completed the rails-to-trails section. I learned later that they had blasted through that section at around 19mph, while I was timidly crawling through at around 13mph. After a few flat miles, the road to Anna became fairly hilly with half-mile rollers. It was during this stretch that I had my only serious incident. A black dog came out of the darkness, and nudged my ankle with his nose. It happened so fast, that there was nothing I could have done, had he been so inclined to take a bite out of me. I have learned that the dogs to beware of are the ones that don't bark. I later learned that Alan had a similar experience with the same dog. The dog came after him not once, but twice.
After riding through the fairly large town of Anna, I soon turned onto the road to Murphysboro, which passed through the Shawnee National Forest. It included a series of a dozen or more half-mile rollers, which were fortunately climbed during the cool of the night. I expect that it was one of the most scenic areas on the ride, but most of this was missed due to darkness. I arrived at a convenience store in Murphysboro before 3am, and was met there by Jeff and Bill, who were picking up supplies while Alan and Peter were securing their lodgings for the night. They offered for me to stay in one of their rooms, but I decided to ride on. They were not planning to get on the road again until 8am, and I figured that riding in cooler temperatures for an additional five hours was worth losing sleep over.
The next control was a straight-shot into Pinkneyville, and the terrain became less hilly. During the last few miles into Pinkneyville, I started to feel sleepy, and I began to wonder if my decision to continue without sleep would prove costly. When I reached the control, I decided to buy a Starbucks double espresso at the convenience store and close my eyes for about five minutes. At the same time, night turned to dawn. I don't know what combination of these worked, but I was no longer sleepy at that point until after the end of the ride.
On the way to the next control in Okaville, I heard a funny noise from my bike. This was a pretty common occurrence during the ride, with the various types of pavement on the route, but for the first time it wasn't coming from my front tire. I looked back, and realized I had a flat rear tire. Fortunately, it happened next to a grassy, shady area, and I was on the road again in 20 minutes or so. Once you have had one flat, the probably of additional ones seems to be higher, but I made it through the final 70 miles without incident. The final miles were very hot. Riding through farmland, the only trees were right next to the homes, tantalizingly close, but nothing near the road.
The final 10 miles had a moderate headwind, but since it was so hot, it was like opening an oven. I arrived at the final control a little after 2pm, for a total time of just over 33 hours.
I stopped by the local YMCA to get cleaned up, and then waited for the Nashville Peleton to arrive. Jeff and I stopped for a great made-to-order calzone on the way home, and I finally made it home at 2:30am Monday morning.
In retrospect, I was generally pleased with my effort and met all of my goals for the ride; it was a welcome bonus that I was able to interact with fellow randonneurs, all of whom are stronger riders than me. I didn’t sustain any injuries, although my hands (from the road vibration) and my backside (from the heat) were pretty sore.
The primary challenges were the wind, the pavement, and the heat. The wind was not a major factor on this ride, but it easily could have been. The pavement was challenging, in that there must have been twenty different types, some of which were very good, others which kept you on your toes. With the exception of one one-tenth of a mile connecting road, all of the roads were rideable and generally pot-hole free. While Tennessee spends considerable money on blacktop, we have a lot to learn about road signs. I noted only one unmarked road the entire route, and even many of the cross roads were marked with name of the main road, which was very reassuring. The heat was the primary challenge. This was the first time I had used a hydration pack since breaking my collarbone last year, and it was a life saver. Ice water in a standard water bottle turned to bath water in thirty minutes.
The RBA, John Jost, did a great job planning the route, checking up on the riders, and providing us with useful information. He is extremely well organized and definitely worked hard to make the ride as safe and enjoyable as possible.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
St. Louis 600K Ride Report - Jeff Sammons
St. Louis 600K Ride Report
June 16, 2007
By Jeff Sammons
For those of you that missed it, five Tennessee Randonneurs traveled to St. Louis this past weekend to ride in their 600K (373mile) Brevet. This was primarily a training event for us, as all of us already had completed a 600K this season. We dominated the event of only eight participants, taking the first five positions. This was the second 600K held in St. Louis this season, and most of their other riders chose to ride in the event held two weeks earlier.
Congratulations to David Bauer for finishing first with a time of just over 32 hours. David rode the event straight thru, while the rest of us chose to get some sleep at the 400K mark and finished in 38 hours.
We encountered only 7,600 feet (Polar) of elevation gain on the course, but had more difficulty with the heat and the wind. Temperatures both day reached highs of over 100 degrees. It was so hot that the tar was melting on their "chip & seal" roadways and got all over our tires. For those of you that haven't been to Illinois, it is basically flat farm land with little tree cover to hide from the sun. Most of the climbing was situated in the southern end of the course.
June 16, 2007
By Jeff Sammons
For those of you that missed it, five Tennessee Randonneurs traveled to St. Louis this past weekend to ride in their 600K (373mile) Brevet. This was primarily a training event for us, as all of us already had completed a 600K this season. We dominated the event of only eight participants, taking the first five positions. This was the second 600K held in St. Louis this season, and most of their other riders chose to ride in the event held two weeks earlier.
Congratulations to David Bauer for finishing first with a time of just over 32 hours. David rode the event straight thru, while the rest of us chose to get some sleep at the 400K mark and finished in 38 hours.
We encountered only 7,600 feet (Polar) of elevation gain on the course, but had more difficulty with the heat and the wind. Temperatures both day reached highs of over 100 degrees. It was so hot that the tar was melting on their "chip & seal" roadways and got all over our tires. For those of you that haven't been to Illinois, it is basically flat farm land with little tree cover to hide from the sun. Most of the climbing was situated in the southern end of the course.
Tennessee 600K Ride Report - Jeff Sammons
TENNESSEE 600K RIDE REPORT
June 2nd & 3rd 2007
By Jeff Sammons, Tennessee RBA
I left work early on Friday, hoping to get to the Best Western hotel before everyone else did so I could get my stuff together prior to 7:00 PM when bike inspections were due to start. However, when I pulled into the parking lot, several people were already there checking into their hotel rooms. I resisted their prodding to start bike inspections early and went about my business of getting my truck unloaded and room set-up. I made a short trip down to the Kroger for some food and beer, and picked up a barbeque sandwich and fries up at Charlie’s on my way back. As I was eating my sandwich and drinking my beer, they assaulted me again to start the bike inspections, so I relented to their demands. A short time later, our drop bag driver Danny Broetzmann showed up. He and I would be sharing a room tonight. Danny volunteered so he could find out more information about our Brevet series as he was interested in doing some longer rides. About 8:30 PM, the last two riders from North Carolina arrived and completed their bike inspections.
I was up early, by 2:30 AM, getting ready for the ride start at 4:00 AM. We had 13 hardy Randonneurs and 1 Randonneuse at the start. I gave some last minute instructions and we were off. The pack stayed together thru the first 14 miles of rollers, and then Glenn Brown and I fell off the back when we hit the first climb on Baker Mountain Road. Climbing has never been one of my strong suits. We kept the pack in sight for a while but never caught back up with them. We encountered a few more rollers going thru the scenic “Fall Creek Falls” state park. By the time we got to the first control (38 miles) just outside the park, everyone was gone. Glenn and I had planned to ride together anyway as this was his first 600K. After a short stop, we were off to Pikeville. Just before the descent down to Pikeville, Kevin Warren came riding up behind us. Seems he got dropped by the pack at the first control, made a wrong turn, and got in four bonus miles. This would be Kevin’s first 600K as well.
The 2-1/2 mile descent down into the Sequatchie River Valley and the town of Pikeville was fast and furious. Since the valley wasn’t that wide, it wasn’t long before we were climbing up Dayton Mountain on the other side. From this side, the grades were easy on the way up so I was able to ride it all in my middle ring. Once on top, we had almost six miles of rollers before the 3-1/2 mile (8% grade) descent down to the town of Dayton, famous for the 1925 religion-vs-evolution "Scopes Monkey Trial". After crossing the Tennessee River and another short climb, we made it to the third control in Riceville (97 miles). While we were stopped, Dave Penegar came riding up behind us. Seems he had made the same wrong turn before Kevin did after the first control and got about twelve bonus miles in before he realized his mistake. More rollers followed as we completed the first 200K into the control at Tellico Plains, arriving around 1:45 PM. I looked down at my Polar Cyclocomputer and it showed approximately 8,000 feet of climbing elevation gain. We had a couple of cabins rented here that we used for our control. After completing the next 200K loop, we would be back here for our overnight control. Robin Ferguson was staffing this control and handling all the food prep. She would later be returning to McMinnville with the drop bags and manning the finish control. Robin did an excellent job for a first time volunteer!
After eating a good lunch, Glenn, Dave, Kevin, and I started out on the 200K loop that would take to the “Tail of the Dragon” and then up and over the “Cherohala Skyway”. After 44 miles of relatively flat riding, we were at the start of the Dragon’s Tail. There are 318 turns in this 11 mile section of US-129 that takes us up to Deal’s Gap (1,962 feet elevation) at the North Carolina state line. This is one of the premier areas in the US for motorcycle and sports car enthusiasts. As we started the climb, we were greeted by light rain showers. This probably had some dampening effect on the amount of motorcycles; however we were buzzed by quite a few on our way up the climb. After the descent from Deal’s Gap, darkness had finally set in and we were slowly gaining elevation on the 18 mile approach into Robbinsville, NC. Glenn was really charging up this section of road, and after several miles I finally had to tell him to slow down. We were also riding along side a river and passed thru several swarms of flies (hundreds of them) that blanketed our bodies. We finally made it to the sixth control in Robbinsville around 9:15 PM, and then headed down to MacDonald’s for some food. It was here that Dave started discussing his plan to “DNF”, but he couldn’t reach our SAG driver as he was out of range.
As the four of us left Robbinsville, it was now time to tackle the Cherohala Skyway. The first 10 miles of rollers were relatively easy, but then we started the long, arduous climb up to Santeetlah, the highest point at 5,377 feet elevation. The ascent to the top was approximately 3,400 feet over 14 miles. We meet our SAG driver on the way up and Dave promptly abandoned the ride. Kevin is a better climber that either Glenn or I, so he sailed up the mountain ahead of us. Several miles up the road, Glenn and I were buzzed by some kids in a car throwing water bottles at us. They made two passes and missed us both times. We later find out that they stole our cooler from the top of the mountain and were throwing our own bottled water at us. It was pitch black outside and the only indications we were getting closer to the top were the occasional elevation signs we saw at each of the scenic overlooks. As we gained altitude, the temperatures were dropping. After 3 hours of hard climbing, we finally reached the “fog shrouded” top at 2:20 AM. My jersey was soaked with sweat from all the climbing we had been doing, so we put on some warm clothing for the ride down the mountain.
David Collings was our SAG driver on this section of the road. He is a member of our bike club in Nashville and drove down Saturday morning to help us out. He drove the 200K loop since early afternoon and logged approximately 700 miles in his car over the weekend. Glenn and I were David’s last customers for the evening. After we headed down the mountain, David drove back to the cabins to try and get some sleep. The descent to the cabins was approximately 4,300 feet over 30 miles. Glenn and I weren’t making very good time on the way down as we were both slow descenders. The fog and wet roads slowed us down even more, and when sleep depravation set in and I reached for my supply of caffeine tablets and caffeinated gels in an effort to stay awake. We make several more stops on the way down as I struggled to stay awake. There were two, one mile climbs on the way down that added some challenge to the descent. But we finally made it to the cabins at 5:00 AM. I looked down at my Polar Cyclocomputer and it showed approximately 18,000 feet of cumulative climbing elevation gain, or 10,000 feet on the 200K Loop.
By the time we got to the cabins, a group of riders were getting ready to leave for the 200K leg back to McMinnville. Since neither Glenn nor I could sleep at this point, after all the caffeine, we made preparations to leave as well. I loaded up on food and fluids and put some fresh clothes on. Glenn, Kevin, and I were joined by John Shelso as we left the cabins. John also completed his first 600K Brevet this weekend, but he didn’t stay with us long and rode off the front. Shortly after we left I ascertained that Kevin and Glenn were not eating properly for a long ride and handed Glenn a roll of donuts and told him to eat them. When we reached Etowah after 16 miles, I pulled into a gas station and made them get some food to eat. We made the next control in Riceville around 9:00 AM and ate some more. Kevin and I took a power nap and Glenn woke us up after 15 minutes or so.
As we left the control, I started to push the pace. We had 59 miles and two substantial climbs before we reached the next control, but had almost eight hours to do it in. Just as we entered Dayton, Dave and Robin showed up on their way back to McMinnville. Dave offered me one of the cold beers in the truck and I quickly downed it at a gas station parking area. Glenn took one look at the truck and started to think about abandoning and taking the SAG in. He didn’t, so we rode on to the base of the climb at Dayton Mountain. The climb up this side of Dayton Mountain was a lot slower due to the 8% grade as indicated by the TDOT signs. Kevin was the first to the top, then me in my triple ring all the way up, and Glenn brought up the rear. Glenn looked well worn out at this point, but we pushed on and I kept the pace in high gear. Just before the descent back down to Pikeville, we stopped at a market to get some food and beverages. The market had a small deli inside, so we all got sandwiches. As we sat down to eat our sandwiches, Glenn announced that he wanted Kevin and I to go on without him so we could finish in time. Glenn said he would either call for a ride back in or ride back at a lot slower pace. Kevin and I felt sorry that Glenn had gone so far and would not finish.
Kevin and I left Glenn behind and descended down to Pikeville. This was a winding, 4-1/2 mile descent with shallow grades so I was able to enjoy the ride down. We quickly crossed the valley and were now on our last big climb of the day. There were no TDOT signs on Old Spencer Road, but the grade up felt every bit of 10% until it got extreme at the top. Kevin, of course, was the first to the top but I had to walk for about a quarter mile as my legs were shot. Kevin reckoned the grade at the top was at least 18%. Once on top, it was an easy ride to the control. We made it with over an hour to spare. I had a root beer float before we left.
It was 38 miles to the finish and we had four hours to do it in. Yesterday, the first 38 miles seem to fly by. But now I was struggling up each of the rollers on the return. Going thru the park, I had to walk up one of the rollers. And to make things worse, we had strong headwinds all the way back in. The ten mile stretch of rollers on SR-30 seemed to never end and I crawled up each one. Jeff Bauer would later tell me that this is how we would feel on the return leg of PBP. As we neared the finish, I told Kevin we could finish before 7:00 PM if we pushed the pace some more. Kevin and I completed the 382 miles course with no sleep, in 39 hours. I looked down at my Polar Cyclocomputer one last time and it showed approximately 26,000 feet of cumulative climbing elevation gain, or 8,000 feet on the 200K return leg.
I had a message on my cell phone when I arrived, it was Glenn. His message said he was about ½ hour out from the finish and would be there before the cutoff time. Somehow, he had an amazing recovery after Kevin and I left him. Glenn finished in 39 hours, 35 minutes.
We had 13 finishers from the 14 that started with times ranging from just over 32 hours to 39 hours, 35 minutes.
After everyone packed up and left the hotel, I called my wife, showered, ate some food, had a few beers, and slept until 6:00 AM the next morning.
June 2nd & 3rd 2007
By Jeff Sammons, Tennessee RBA
I left work early on Friday, hoping to get to the Best Western hotel before everyone else did so I could get my stuff together prior to 7:00 PM when bike inspections were due to start. However, when I pulled into the parking lot, several people were already there checking into their hotel rooms. I resisted their prodding to start bike inspections early and went about my business of getting my truck unloaded and room set-up. I made a short trip down to the Kroger for some food and beer, and picked up a barbeque sandwich and fries up at Charlie’s on my way back. As I was eating my sandwich and drinking my beer, they assaulted me again to start the bike inspections, so I relented to their demands. A short time later, our drop bag driver Danny Broetzmann showed up. He and I would be sharing a room tonight. Danny volunteered so he could find out more information about our Brevet series as he was interested in doing some longer rides. About 8:30 PM, the last two riders from North Carolina arrived and completed their bike inspections.
I was up early, by 2:30 AM, getting ready for the ride start at 4:00 AM. We had 13 hardy Randonneurs and 1 Randonneuse at the start. I gave some last minute instructions and we were off. The pack stayed together thru the first 14 miles of rollers, and then Glenn Brown and I fell off the back when we hit the first climb on Baker Mountain Road. Climbing has never been one of my strong suits. We kept the pack in sight for a while but never caught back up with them. We encountered a few more rollers going thru the scenic “Fall Creek Falls” state park. By the time we got to the first control (38 miles) just outside the park, everyone was gone. Glenn and I had planned to ride together anyway as this was his first 600K. After a short stop, we were off to Pikeville. Just before the descent down to Pikeville, Kevin Warren came riding up behind us. Seems he got dropped by the pack at the first control, made a wrong turn, and got in four bonus miles. This would be Kevin’s first 600K as well.
The 2-1/2 mile descent down into the Sequatchie River Valley and the town of Pikeville was fast and furious. Since the valley wasn’t that wide, it wasn’t long before we were climbing up Dayton Mountain on the other side. From this side, the grades were easy on the way up so I was able to ride it all in my middle ring. Once on top, we had almost six miles of rollers before the 3-1/2 mile (8% grade) descent down to the town of Dayton, famous for the 1925 religion-vs-evolution "Scopes Monkey Trial". After crossing the Tennessee River and another short climb, we made it to the third control in Riceville (97 miles). While we were stopped, Dave Penegar came riding up behind us. Seems he had made the same wrong turn before Kevin did after the first control and got about twelve bonus miles in before he realized his mistake. More rollers followed as we completed the first 200K into the control at Tellico Plains, arriving around 1:45 PM. I looked down at my Polar Cyclocomputer and it showed approximately 8,000 feet of climbing elevation gain. We had a couple of cabins rented here that we used for our control. After completing the next 200K loop, we would be back here for our overnight control. Robin Ferguson was staffing this control and handling all the food prep. She would later be returning to McMinnville with the drop bags and manning the finish control. Robin did an excellent job for a first time volunteer!
After eating a good lunch, Glenn, Dave, Kevin, and I started out on the 200K loop that would take to the “Tail of the Dragon” and then up and over the “Cherohala Skyway”. After 44 miles of relatively flat riding, we were at the start of the Dragon’s Tail. There are 318 turns in this 11 mile section of US-129 that takes us up to Deal’s Gap (1,962 feet elevation) at the North Carolina state line. This is one of the premier areas in the US for motorcycle and sports car enthusiasts. As we started the climb, we were greeted by light rain showers. This probably had some dampening effect on the amount of motorcycles; however we were buzzed by quite a few on our way up the climb. After the descent from Deal’s Gap, darkness had finally set in and we were slowly gaining elevation on the 18 mile approach into Robbinsville, NC. Glenn was really charging up this section of road, and after several miles I finally had to tell him to slow down. We were also riding along side a river and passed thru several swarms of flies (hundreds of them) that blanketed our bodies. We finally made it to the sixth control in Robbinsville around 9:15 PM, and then headed down to MacDonald’s for some food. It was here that Dave started discussing his plan to “DNF”, but he couldn’t reach our SAG driver as he was out of range.
As the four of us left Robbinsville, it was now time to tackle the Cherohala Skyway. The first 10 miles of rollers were relatively easy, but then we started the long, arduous climb up to Santeetlah, the highest point at 5,377 feet elevation. The ascent to the top was approximately 3,400 feet over 14 miles. We meet our SAG driver on the way up and Dave promptly abandoned the ride. Kevin is a better climber that either Glenn or I, so he sailed up the mountain ahead of us. Several miles up the road, Glenn and I were buzzed by some kids in a car throwing water bottles at us. They made two passes and missed us both times. We later find out that they stole our cooler from the top of the mountain and were throwing our own bottled water at us. It was pitch black outside and the only indications we were getting closer to the top were the occasional elevation signs we saw at each of the scenic overlooks. As we gained altitude, the temperatures were dropping. After 3 hours of hard climbing, we finally reached the “fog shrouded” top at 2:20 AM. My jersey was soaked with sweat from all the climbing we had been doing, so we put on some warm clothing for the ride down the mountain.
David Collings was our SAG driver on this section of the road. He is a member of our bike club in Nashville and drove down Saturday morning to help us out. He drove the 200K loop since early afternoon and logged approximately 700 miles in his car over the weekend. Glenn and I were David’s last customers for the evening. After we headed down the mountain, David drove back to the cabins to try and get some sleep. The descent to the cabins was approximately 4,300 feet over 30 miles. Glenn and I weren’t making very good time on the way down as we were both slow descenders. The fog and wet roads slowed us down even more, and when sleep depravation set in and I reached for my supply of caffeine tablets and caffeinated gels in an effort to stay awake. We make several more stops on the way down as I struggled to stay awake. There were two, one mile climbs on the way down that added some challenge to the descent. But we finally made it to the cabins at 5:00 AM. I looked down at my Polar Cyclocomputer and it showed approximately 18,000 feet of cumulative climbing elevation gain, or 10,000 feet on the 200K Loop.
By the time we got to the cabins, a group of riders were getting ready to leave for the 200K leg back to McMinnville. Since neither Glenn nor I could sleep at this point, after all the caffeine, we made preparations to leave as well. I loaded up on food and fluids and put some fresh clothes on. Glenn, Kevin, and I were joined by John Shelso as we left the cabins. John also completed his first 600K Brevet this weekend, but he didn’t stay with us long and rode off the front. Shortly after we left I ascertained that Kevin and Glenn were not eating properly for a long ride and handed Glenn a roll of donuts and told him to eat them. When we reached Etowah after 16 miles, I pulled into a gas station and made them get some food to eat. We made the next control in Riceville around 9:00 AM and ate some more. Kevin and I took a power nap and Glenn woke us up after 15 minutes or so.
As we left the control, I started to push the pace. We had 59 miles and two substantial climbs before we reached the next control, but had almost eight hours to do it in. Just as we entered Dayton, Dave and Robin showed up on their way back to McMinnville. Dave offered me one of the cold beers in the truck and I quickly downed it at a gas station parking area. Glenn took one look at the truck and started to think about abandoning and taking the SAG in. He didn’t, so we rode on to the base of the climb at Dayton Mountain. The climb up this side of Dayton Mountain was a lot slower due to the 8% grade as indicated by the TDOT signs. Kevin was the first to the top, then me in my triple ring all the way up, and Glenn brought up the rear. Glenn looked well worn out at this point, but we pushed on and I kept the pace in high gear. Just before the descent back down to Pikeville, we stopped at a market to get some food and beverages. The market had a small deli inside, so we all got sandwiches. As we sat down to eat our sandwiches, Glenn announced that he wanted Kevin and I to go on without him so we could finish in time. Glenn said he would either call for a ride back in or ride back at a lot slower pace. Kevin and I felt sorry that Glenn had gone so far and would not finish.
Kevin and I left Glenn behind and descended down to Pikeville. This was a winding, 4-1/2 mile descent with shallow grades so I was able to enjoy the ride down. We quickly crossed the valley and were now on our last big climb of the day. There were no TDOT signs on Old Spencer Road, but the grade up felt every bit of 10% until it got extreme at the top. Kevin, of course, was the first to the top but I had to walk for about a quarter mile as my legs were shot. Kevin reckoned the grade at the top was at least 18%. Once on top, it was an easy ride to the control. We made it with over an hour to spare. I had a root beer float before we left.
It was 38 miles to the finish and we had four hours to do it in. Yesterday, the first 38 miles seem to fly by. But now I was struggling up each of the rollers on the return. Going thru the park, I had to walk up one of the rollers. And to make things worse, we had strong headwinds all the way back in. The ten mile stretch of rollers on SR-30 seemed to never end and I crawled up each one. Jeff Bauer would later tell me that this is how we would feel on the return leg of PBP. As we neared the finish, I told Kevin we could finish before 7:00 PM if we pushed the pace some more. Kevin and I completed the 382 miles course with no sleep, in 39 hours. I looked down at my Polar Cyclocomputer one last time and it showed approximately 26,000 feet of cumulative climbing elevation gain, or 8,000 feet on the 200K return leg.
I had a message on my cell phone when I arrived, it was Glenn. His message said he was about ½ hour out from the finish and would be there before the cutoff time. Somehow, he had an amazing recovery after Kevin and I left him. Glenn finished in 39 hours, 35 minutes.
We had 13 finishers from the 14 that started with times ranging from just over 32 hours to 39 hours, 35 minutes.
After everyone packed up and left the hotel, I called my wife, showered, ate some food, had a few beers, and slept until 6:00 AM the next morning.
Tennessee 600K Ride Report - Caroline Atkins
Tennessee 600K Brevet Ride Report
June 2-3, 2007
By Caroline Atkins
First, here’s the official description, lifted straight from the ride’s website:
The Middle Tennessee 600K Brevet promises to be an epic event. Not only does it tackle the Tail of the Dragon at Deals Gap, with 318 curves in 11 miles, it also takes on the nearby Cherohala Skyway which winds up and over 5,400 foot mountains for 15 miles in North Carolina and descends another 21 miles into the deeply forested backcountry of Tennessee. The road crosses through the Cherokee and Nantahala National Forests thus the name "Chero...hala". Come out and ride on these amazing roads with us.
Ride Description: The Middle Tennessee 600K Brevet starts out in McMinnville, Tennessee and travels east for 200K to Tellico Plains, Tennessee. Fifteen miles into the Brevet, we will encounter our first significant climb up Baker Mountain to the top of the Cumberland Plateau. Along the way, we will pass thru the scenic Fall Creek Falls State Park stopping just outside the park for our first control at mile 38. Several miles farther out, we will descend down into the Sequatchie River Valley and the town of Pikeville. Leaving Pikeville, we will encounter our second significant climb up Dayton Mountain with another nice descent down to the town of Dayton, famous for the 1925 religion-vs-evolution "Scopes Monkey Trial". After Dayton, we will cross the Tennessee River and stop at the third control in Riceville at mile 97. Beyond Riceville, we will meander thru the countryside passing thru Etowah and finally making it to the fourth control in Tellico Plains at mile 128.
Just outside of Tellico Plains, we will start a 200K loop that takes us to the start of the “Tail of the Dragon”. Once on the Dragon, we will pass thru Deals Gap, altitude 1,962 feet, and enter into North Carolina briefly. Our sixth control takes us to Robbinsville, North Carolina at mile 201 for a brief rest before we tackle the Cherohala Skyway. Some riders may opt to stop here for their "sleep break", while others will continue on to get in some more miles before they sleep. Once on the Skyway, riders will reach elevations of approximately 5,400 feet before they start the decent back down to Tellico Plains, our seventh control at mile 254. Most riders will get some sleep here as overnight accommodations (see details below) will be provided, while some of the remaining riders may push on Etowah, at mile 269, for their "sleep break". Riders are encouraged to bring a Camelbak, or similar devise, on this section of the route as there will be long distances between resupply points. Once the riders get back to Tellico Plains, they will return to McMinnville along the same route they came out on.
And here are Caroline’s stats and special memories, after actually riding it:
Miles ridden: 390 (yes, that’s further than 600k—don’t ask)
Feet climbed: 26,000. Yes, TWENTY SIX THOUSAND FEET
Saddle time: 29 hours, 23 minutes
Total time: 38 hours
Jeff Sammons, the Regional Brevet Administrator for this event, is to be commended for putting together an absolutely awesome route with terrific organization, AND riding the darned thing, too! Everything from the bike inspection at check-in to the oh-so-welcome cabin accommodations in Tellico Plains were arranged with a great deal of thought and ran like clockwork, to this rider’s perception. We certainly weren’t short-changed in terms of challenges.
The group started at 4 am on a wonderfully warm Saturday morning—no arm warmers necessary. We sailed easily over rollers and experienced a magical sunrise riding through Fall Creek Falls Park. Quick stop at the first control (convenience store), buy some water, get the card signed, mix up my bottles, GO! Next was a brief trip through the land of dogs—good for a few intervals to keep the legs open. Down a steep (we would discover just HOW steep on the return trip) descent into Pikeville. The 4.5 mile Dayton Mountain climb was outstanding; legs and lungs felt good. Screaming descent into Dayton, followed by a real back-road experience through Cottonwood—almost-gravel roads, narrow, very little traffic, as close as one gets to mountain biking on the road. Gorgeous. It’s fortunate that I didn’t need to check the cue sheet often through this passage, as everything is shaking too much to read. As I climb Cottonwood, I see a lone figure ahead, and eventually catch up to the famous randonneur, John Ende. We ride together to the next control. A minivan full of well-mannered children are too polite to remark about our appearance and/or our eating and drinking habits. They just stare in amazement. John spots a bunch of beverages in the back of their van and states that he could drink all of them; the children are brave, they don’t even flinch.
Next stop, Tellico Plains, TN (200k). The cabins are a welcome sight. This ride is the first that I have experienced that crosses time zones—more for my ever-feebling mind to deal with. Quick sandwich and replenish my drink mix supply from my drop-bag, which had been transported to the cabin via motor vehicle. I also stick my cold-weather clothes in my saddle bag for later (wise move). Then we set out to find the notorious TAIL OF THE DRAGON, 44 miles down the road.
The actual Dragon consists of an awesome 10.5-mile climb. I did not count, but I don’t doubt the presence of 311 turns. The motorcyclists were enjoying the road, as is appropriate. I had no problems sharing the road with them, and even received a few friendly toots. There were plenty of State Troopers, too. Ende stopped at a motorcycle resort and reports there was a motorcyclist holding court as he proudly displayed his ticket for 96 in a 55 zone. Through this entire stretch into Robbinsville, as I observed everyone who didn’t happen to be in the middle of a 390-mile bike ride, I couldn’t resist asking the age-old question: “Why couldn’t I take up fishing, like my brother and dad?” Our climbing effort is rewarded with a spectacular view of some dam and lake, 100s of feet below us.
I am quite wasted by the time I get to Robbinsville, and dusk is falling. My stomach has been doing really well by sticking almost solely to my drink mix (Infinit) and some super bars (EFS by 1st Endurance). In fact, the only thing I was belching was the sandwich I had at Tellico Plains. I recognized the need for an injection of high-powered energy. It was time for a real Coke and a Snickers bar. I did not feel like joining a couple guys for a sandwich at Subway; I just wanted to get going. I’ve ridden the Cherohala Skyway before, and I know what we’re in for.
Here’s where the REAL memories begin. I departed Robbinsville, solo, as night was falling. The road from Robbinsville to the start of the Cherohala Skyway is approximately 10 miles of up and down, frustratingly dropping back down to Lake Santeelah every time you think you’ve started the BIG climb. The coolest thing was being near the lake at dusk—the frogs performed a tremendous concert. It grew dark while I was on this section, and this area is REALLY dark—wooded, sparsely populated. At one point, I heard the underbrush crackling at the side of the road. I’m accustomed to this sound at night; it usually indicates a deer is close by. I turned my helmet light towards the sound, and it was a MAN!! I shrieked some obscenity and rode like a madwoman to get out of there. Thankfully, it was not in the middle of the climb. Poor guy; he was probably walking home from fishing, scared out of his pants by what appeared to be an alien spaceship with flashing lights. Next, I got paranoid that I had missed a turn and was possibly descending into the bowels of the Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest. Whew. There’s a sign for the Cherohala Skyway. I’m still on the course.
Now, for those of you have ridden Cherohala, take a moment to imagine riding the entire length of it in pitch dark, by yourself. For those of you who have not experienced the Skyway, think of the Blue Ridge Parkway, with MUCH less “development,” and MUCH less traffic and MUCH steeper, longer climbs. I encountered ONE car, other than our support vehicle at the top, during the entire 45-mile or so expanse of the Skyway. The whole shebang begins with a 9-10 mile climb averaging 9% grade. This situation gives one plenty of time for thought and pondering relevant questions. Are bears attracted to lights and heavy breathing? How about mountain lions? In reality, it was pretty cool. One’s hearing becomes incredibly acute. I could hear breezes traveling towards me through the forest for as long as a minute or two before I actually felt them. The sound of rushing streams at night is incredible. I eventually spotted the glow of our support vehicle, parked at a scenic overlook (elevation 5390). The nice man had water, and best of all, he let me sit in his car with the heat on, as I was shaking uncontrollably when I stopped; it was COLD, and I was damp with sweat. He also reported that the guys ahead of me had pulled out less than 2 minutes before I arrived. Cool, considering they left Robbinsville at least 15-20 minutes before I did.
I pulled on my extra clothes and bravely faced the next stretch. What is usually a thrilling, screaming descent (50+mph, easily) became a terror-filled (well, maybe not THAT bad) ride down the mountain. I don’t feel comfortable letting it rip beyond a speed with which my headlights will keep up. I am now VERY thankful for yellow-line reflectors. I determined that I would keep it to a speed at which I could keep 3 reflectors in sight at any given time. Not a whole lot of stopping-distance, had it been necessary. The other challenge of the descent was that I was shivering so violently that my handlebars and therefore lights were shaking back and forth madly across the road. Kinda surreal. Thankfully, another climb followed; time to regain some warmth. Then there was another descent. On the one hand, I loved clicking off those miles QUICKLY on the descents. On the other hand, I could feel the tension compounding in my neck and shoulders. However, for better or worse, I became more comfortable with the whole situation and let go, making it much easier.
Then came the next climb. My bike’s shifting had been fussy all day, much to my frustration. I do keep my bikes well-maintenanced, but today it was rebelling. I made some adjustments to lessen the hippy-skippy stuff going on with the cassette (cable stretch). However, shifting from the big ring to the little ring became an art that I had to learn to perform with the utmost finesse. Get it in the proper cog on the cassette, NO pressure on the pedals, and then ever so gently with my left middle finger, EASE it over onto the small ring. I had to get off the bike a couple times earlier in the day to put the darned chain back on after dropping it, but thought I had made my peace with it. Not true. As I started this next climb, I went through the afore-mentioned ritual, and heard the clunk of a dropped chain. I tried to save it, as I can usually do, by shifting back to the big ring. Nope. Not this time. In fact, the chain got STUCK, and my cranks/pedals would no longer turn. My weight was to the right, trying to drive the pedal down, and the bike started going. No time to unclip. I SCREAMED, and BAM!! I was down. In the middle of the road, in the middle of the night, by myself. My helmet hit the pavement, hard, and I remember thinking, “oh. That sounded kinda bad.” But then, I was so spittin’ mad, that I knew I was probably OK. However, I was on my back, shoes still clipped into my pedals, like a beetle stuck on its back with its legs flailing in the air. What’s the name of that play by Kafka about the cockroach stuck on its back? You get the picture. Add the soundtrack of every expletive you can think of; I won’t elaborate, as your obscenity filters probably won’t allow passage. I managed to separate myself from my bike and get to a standing position. Assessed my trunk and limbs and determined all were functioning as well as could be expected given the circumstances; we’ll address the head later (cracked the rear right quadrant of the helmet, almost clean off). Next, the bike. Remember, my headlights don’t shine unless I’m going 7 mph or faster. My auxiliary light on my handlebars had run out of juice, and I didn’t feel like rummaging in my saddlebag for extra batteries and the screwdriver necessary to replace them (blasted German “technology”). My helmet light WAS still functioning, though. And my 3 taillights were flashing away. Got the chain back on, and had to make a few adjustments to my saddlebag, which was rubbing on my back tire—just what I need—more resistance! Then, I realized I was in the middle of a climb, w/o the aid of headlights, yet. I did not trust the condition of my legs to get back on the bike, get clipped in and rolling on a grade, without repeating this down-on-the-pavement process all over again. I walked my bike up the road a bit, until the grade lessened, and then bravely mounted my steed, and I was OFF! Oh—I forgot to mention that it began to rain as I lay on the pavement, earlier. Can you imagine what the woodland creatures thought? What the heck is this LOUD, awkward being, covered in flashing lights? Wisely, they kept their distance. I knew if I could keep it together for 10-15 more miles, I would be at the cabins where I could regroup and rest. I rode out of the rain and then back into it. Big drops, and at the moment the rain became hard, the yellow-line reflectors ceased to be. Keep your eyes on the yellow line, Caroline, relax, and keep it together. The rain ceased, and the cabins came into sight. Alleluia.
Quick call to Tony to let him know I was fine, vent a little (OK, maybe a LOT) about the condition of my bike, and assure him that I would rest. Recovery drink, shower, PB&J and milk. About this time, John Ende pulled in. We decided to rest about 4 hours and get going once it was light (it was about 2 am). A-ha! An empty space in one of the beds; hope that other person doesn’t snore. I crawled under the covers and passed out. When my eyes opened, I saw a vision in a Mt. Mitchell jersey. Oh, it was just John Ende. What the heck is he doing up and dressed for the bike? Yikes! I’ll be ready in 5 minutes! And I was. Breakfast—who needs it? As John was impatiently tapping his cleats on the pavement, I swung my leg over the bike with half a magic bar in my mouth, and we were off: John Ende, Jimmy Williams, Peter from Nashville, and myself. Only 200k to go. A frisky pace was set, which concerned me a bit. Turned out it concerned the other guys, too. It eventually eased, and then we got stopped by a train (praise be). When we got to the next control, those guys opted to down several sausage biscuits each. None for me, thanks, I’m attempting to remain functional for the remainder of this adventure. A Rice Krispy Treat will do nicely. Shortly after pulling out of this control, my bike started making a god-AWFUL sound. Something akin to carbon fiber being twisted and torqued by a giant gorilla. We discerned that it might be the freewheel; I should be able to make it, so long as I could keep the chain on the cassette. Comforting. The sound was only sporadic—completely unpredictable, serving as an intermittent jolt to keep me alert.
Now it was getting HOT. Don’t get me wrong—I LOVE to ride in hot weather, but even with these reptilian tendencies, I started to wonder if steam was coming out the vents of my helmet. Climbed Dayton Mountain (3.5 miles, again) in the direct sun. Still an awesome climb. Phenomenal descent—8% grade, sweeping turns, and a stellar view of the Cumberland Plateau. Speaking of which, we needed to climb back up on that tabletop. Remember that steep descent I mentioned earlier? Time to pay up. It started as an 8-9% grade—enough to get your attention. And THEN. . . in plain view, there appeared 3 vertical walls, each separated by a switchback. Estimated at 20%. Ende confirms that it was comparable to Coxes Creek, for those of you familiar with that bone-crusher. This occurred with 332 miles in our legs. I took Jimmy’s lead and started using the full width of the road, weaving back and forth. Peter was right there in the mix, too. John was behind us, and, displaying the only ounce of common sense in the bunch, got off his bike to walk. He lost no time on us—in other words, he could walk as fast as we were “riding.” Made it to the top without tipping over, and then collapsed under some farmer’s tree. After a brief respite, we hobbled to the last control before the end! We met up with Jeff from Nashville, who kindly waited for us to finish eating, etc.
Our little pod set off for the final 38 miles of our journey, immediately following a brief cloudburst at the store. Wet pavement, hot temps, bright sun. Hey—much better than riding in the monsoon that we heard our buddies in Raleigh were subjected to! Back through Fall Creek Falls Park again. It had been established long ago that this route was either going UP or going DOWN. At this point, Ende proclaimed the overriding commandment of the ride: “THOU SHALT NOT RIDE ON A FLAT ROAD!!” This definitely stuck, at least in my mind. It was at this point that every climb around every corner got on my last nerve and jumped up and down on it, repeatedly. Approximately 14 miles from the end, I found myself on a 10-mile STRAIGHT stretch of road that undulated UP and DOWN for as far as the eye could see, like a ribbon, rippling into the distance. Direct sun. But I knew I could make it, and I did. Next stop, Paris!
June 2-3, 2007
By Caroline Atkins
First, here’s the official description, lifted straight from the ride’s website:
The Middle Tennessee 600K Brevet promises to be an epic event. Not only does it tackle the Tail of the Dragon at Deals Gap, with 318 curves in 11 miles, it also takes on the nearby Cherohala Skyway which winds up and over 5,400 foot mountains for 15 miles in North Carolina and descends another 21 miles into the deeply forested backcountry of Tennessee. The road crosses through the Cherokee and Nantahala National Forests thus the name "Chero...hala". Come out and ride on these amazing roads with us.
Ride Description: The Middle Tennessee 600K Brevet starts out in McMinnville, Tennessee and travels east for 200K to Tellico Plains, Tennessee. Fifteen miles into the Brevet, we will encounter our first significant climb up Baker Mountain to the top of the Cumberland Plateau. Along the way, we will pass thru the scenic Fall Creek Falls State Park stopping just outside the park for our first control at mile 38. Several miles farther out, we will descend down into the Sequatchie River Valley and the town of Pikeville. Leaving Pikeville, we will encounter our second significant climb up Dayton Mountain with another nice descent down to the town of Dayton, famous for the 1925 religion-vs-evolution "Scopes Monkey Trial". After Dayton, we will cross the Tennessee River and stop at the third control in Riceville at mile 97. Beyond Riceville, we will meander thru the countryside passing thru Etowah and finally making it to the fourth control in Tellico Plains at mile 128.
Just outside of Tellico Plains, we will start a 200K loop that takes us to the start of the “Tail of the Dragon”. Once on the Dragon, we will pass thru Deals Gap, altitude 1,962 feet, and enter into North Carolina briefly. Our sixth control takes us to Robbinsville, North Carolina at mile 201 for a brief rest before we tackle the Cherohala Skyway. Some riders may opt to stop here for their "sleep break", while others will continue on to get in some more miles before they sleep. Once on the Skyway, riders will reach elevations of approximately 5,400 feet before they start the decent back down to Tellico Plains, our seventh control at mile 254. Most riders will get some sleep here as overnight accommodations (see details below) will be provided, while some of the remaining riders may push on Etowah, at mile 269, for their "sleep break". Riders are encouraged to bring a Camelbak, or similar devise, on this section of the route as there will be long distances between resupply points. Once the riders get back to Tellico Plains, they will return to McMinnville along the same route they came out on.
And here are Caroline’s stats and special memories, after actually riding it:
Miles ridden: 390 (yes, that’s further than 600k—don’t ask)
Feet climbed: 26,000. Yes, TWENTY SIX THOUSAND FEET
Saddle time: 29 hours, 23 minutes
Total time: 38 hours
Jeff Sammons, the Regional Brevet Administrator for this event, is to be commended for putting together an absolutely awesome route with terrific organization, AND riding the darned thing, too! Everything from the bike inspection at check-in to the oh-so-welcome cabin accommodations in Tellico Plains were arranged with a great deal of thought and ran like clockwork, to this rider’s perception. We certainly weren’t short-changed in terms of challenges.
The group started at 4 am on a wonderfully warm Saturday morning—no arm warmers necessary. We sailed easily over rollers and experienced a magical sunrise riding through Fall Creek Falls Park. Quick stop at the first control (convenience store), buy some water, get the card signed, mix up my bottles, GO! Next was a brief trip through the land of dogs—good for a few intervals to keep the legs open. Down a steep (we would discover just HOW steep on the return trip) descent into Pikeville. The 4.5 mile Dayton Mountain climb was outstanding; legs and lungs felt good. Screaming descent into Dayton, followed by a real back-road experience through Cottonwood—almost-gravel roads, narrow, very little traffic, as close as one gets to mountain biking on the road. Gorgeous. It’s fortunate that I didn’t need to check the cue sheet often through this passage, as everything is shaking too much to read. As I climb Cottonwood, I see a lone figure ahead, and eventually catch up to the famous randonneur, John Ende. We ride together to the next control. A minivan full of well-mannered children are too polite to remark about our appearance and/or our eating and drinking habits. They just stare in amazement. John spots a bunch of beverages in the back of their van and states that he could drink all of them; the children are brave, they don’t even flinch.
Next stop, Tellico Plains, TN (200k). The cabins are a welcome sight. This ride is the first that I have experienced that crosses time zones—more for my ever-feebling mind to deal with. Quick sandwich and replenish my drink mix supply from my drop-bag, which had been transported to the cabin via motor vehicle. I also stick my cold-weather clothes in my saddle bag for later (wise move). Then we set out to find the notorious TAIL OF THE DRAGON, 44 miles down the road.
The actual Dragon consists of an awesome 10.5-mile climb. I did not count, but I don’t doubt the presence of 311 turns. The motorcyclists were enjoying the road, as is appropriate. I had no problems sharing the road with them, and even received a few friendly toots. There were plenty of State Troopers, too. Ende stopped at a motorcycle resort and reports there was a motorcyclist holding court as he proudly displayed his ticket for 96 in a 55 zone. Through this entire stretch into Robbinsville, as I observed everyone who didn’t happen to be in the middle of a 390-mile bike ride, I couldn’t resist asking the age-old question: “Why couldn’t I take up fishing, like my brother and dad?” Our climbing effort is rewarded with a spectacular view of some dam and lake, 100s of feet below us.
I am quite wasted by the time I get to Robbinsville, and dusk is falling. My stomach has been doing really well by sticking almost solely to my drink mix (Infinit) and some super bars (EFS by 1st Endurance). In fact, the only thing I was belching was the sandwich I had at Tellico Plains. I recognized the need for an injection of high-powered energy. It was time for a real Coke and a Snickers bar. I did not feel like joining a couple guys for a sandwich at Subway; I just wanted to get going. I’ve ridden the Cherohala Skyway before, and I know what we’re in for.
Here’s where the REAL memories begin. I departed Robbinsville, solo, as night was falling. The road from Robbinsville to the start of the Cherohala Skyway is approximately 10 miles of up and down, frustratingly dropping back down to Lake Santeelah every time you think you’ve started the BIG climb. The coolest thing was being near the lake at dusk—the frogs performed a tremendous concert. It grew dark while I was on this section, and this area is REALLY dark—wooded, sparsely populated. At one point, I heard the underbrush crackling at the side of the road. I’m accustomed to this sound at night; it usually indicates a deer is close by. I turned my helmet light towards the sound, and it was a MAN!! I shrieked some obscenity and rode like a madwoman to get out of there. Thankfully, it was not in the middle of the climb. Poor guy; he was probably walking home from fishing, scared out of his pants by what appeared to be an alien spaceship with flashing lights. Next, I got paranoid that I had missed a turn and was possibly descending into the bowels of the Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest. Whew. There’s a sign for the Cherohala Skyway. I’m still on the course.
Now, for those of you have ridden Cherohala, take a moment to imagine riding the entire length of it in pitch dark, by yourself. For those of you who have not experienced the Skyway, think of the Blue Ridge Parkway, with MUCH less “development,” and MUCH less traffic and MUCH steeper, longer climbs. I encountered ONE car, other than our support vehicle at the top, during the entire 45-mile or so expanse of the Skyway. The whole shebang begins with a 9-10 mile climb averaging 9% grade. This situation gives one plenty of time for thought and pondering relevant questions. Are bears attracted to lights and heavy breathing? How about mountain lions? In reality, it was pretty cool. One’s hearing becomes incredibly acute. I could hear breezes traveling towards me through the forest for as long as a minute or two before I actually felt them. The sound of rushing streams at night is incredible. I eventually spotted the glow of our support vehicle, parked at a scenic overlook (elevation 5390). The nice man had water, and best of all, he let me sit in his car with the heat on, as I was shaking uncontrollably when I stopped; it was COLD, and I was damp with sweat. He also reported that the guys ahead of me had pulled out less than 2 minutes before I arrived. Cool, considering they left Robbinsville at least 15-20 minutes before I did.
I pulled on my extra clothes and bravely faced the next stretch. What is usually a thrilling, screaming descent (50+mph, easily) became a terror-filled (well, maybe not THAT bad) ride down the mountain. I don’t feel comfortable letting it rip beyond a speed with which my headlights will keep up. I am now VERY thankful for yellow-line reflectors. I determined that I would keep it to a speed at which I could keep 3 reflectors in sight at any given time. Not a whole lot of stopping-distance, had it been necessary. The other challenge of the descent was that I was shivering so violently that my handlebars and therefore lights were shaking back and forth madly across the road. Kinda surreal. Thankfully, another climb followed; time to regain some warmth. Then there was another descent. On the one hand, I loved clicking off those miles QUICKLY on the descents. On the other hand, I could feel the tension compounding in my neck and shoulders. However, for better or worse, I became more comfortable with the whole situation and let go, making it much easier.
Then came the next climb. My bike’s shifting had been fussy all day, much to my frustration. I do keep my bikes well-maintenanced, but today it was rebelling. I made some adjustments to lessen the hippy-skippy stuff going on with the cassette (cable stretch). However, shifting from the big ring to the little ring became an art that I had to learn to perform with the utmost finesse. Get it in the proper cog on the cassette, NO pressure on the pedals, and then ever so gently with my left middle finger, EASE it over onto the small ring. I had to get off the bike a couple times earlier in the day to put the darned chain back on after dropping it, but thought I had made my peace with it. Not true. As I started this next climb, I went through the afore-mentioned ritual, and heard the clunk of a dropped chain. I tried to save it, as I can usually do, by shifting back to the big ring. Nope. Not this time. In fact, the chain got STUCK, and my cranks/pedals would no longer turn. My weight was to the right, trying to drive the pedal down, and the bike started going. No time to unclip. I SCREAMED, and BAM!! I was down. In the middle of the road, in the middle of the night, by myself. My helmet hit the pavement, hard, and I remember thinking, “oh. That sounded kinda bad.” But then, I was so spittin’ mad, that I knew I was probably OK. However, I was on my back, shoes still clipped into my pedals, like a beetle stuck on its back with its legs flailing in the air. What’s the name of that play by Kafka about the cockroach stuck on its back? You get the picture. Add the soundtrack of every expletive you can think of; I won’t elaborate, as your obscenity filters probably won’t allow passage. I managed to separate myself from my bike and get to a standing position. Assessed my trunk and limbs and determined all were functioning as well as could be expected given the circumstances; we’ll address the head later (cracked the rear right quadrant of the helmet, almost clean off). Next, the bike. Remember, my headlights don’t shine unless I’m going 7 mph or faster. My auxiliary light on my handlebars had run out of juice, and I didn’t feel like rummaging in my saddlebag for extra batteries and the screwdriver necessary to replace them (blasted German “technology”). My helmet light WAS still functioning, though. And my 3 taillights were flashing away. Got the chain back on, and had to make a few adjustments to my saddlebag, which was rubbing on my back tire—just what I need—more resistance! Then, I realized I was in the middle of a climb, w/o the aid of headlights, yet. I did not trust the condition of my legs to get back on the bike, get clipped in and rolling on a grade, without repeating this down-on-the-pavement process all over again. I walked my bike up the road a bit, until the grade lessened, and then bravely mounted my steed, and I was OFF! Oh—I forgot to mention that it began to rain as I lay on the pavement, earlier. Can you imagine what the woodland creatures thought? What the heck is this LOUD, awkward being, covered in flashing lights? Wisely, they kept their distance. I knew if I could keep it together for 10-15 more miles, I would be at the cabins where I could regroup and rest. I rode out of the rain and then back into it. Big drops, and at the moment the rain became hard, the yellow-line reflectors ceased to be. Keep your eyes on the yellow line, Caroline, relax, and keep it together. The rain ceased, and the cabins came into sight. Alleluia.
Quick call to Tony to let him know I was fine, vent a little (OK, maybe a LOT) about the condition of my bike, and assure him that I would rest. Recovery drink, shower, PB&J and milk. About this time, John Ende pulled in. We decided to rest about 4 hours and get going once it was light (it was about 2 am). A-ha! An empty space in one of the beds; hope that other person doesn’t snore. I crawled under the covers and passed out. When my eyes opened, I saw a vision in a Mt. Mitchell jersey. Oh, it was just John Ende. What the heck is he doing up and dressed for the bike? Yikes! I’ll be ready in 5 minutes! And I was. Breakfast—who needs it? As John was impatiently tapping his cleats on the pavement, I swung my leg over the bike with half a magic bar in my mouth, and we were off: John Ende, Jimmy Williams, Peter from Nashville, and myself. Only 200k to go. A frisky pace was set, which concerned me a bit. Turned out it concerned the other guys, too. It eventually eased, and then we got stopped by a train (praise be). When we got to the next control, those guys opted to down several sausage biscuits each. None for me, thanks, I’m attempting to remain functional for the remainder of this adventure. A Rice Krispy Treat will do nicely. Shortly after pulling out of this control, my bike started making a god-AWFUL sound. Something akin to carbon fiber being twisted and torqued by a giant gorilla. We discerned that it might be the freewheel; I should be able to make it, so long as I could keep the chain on the cassette. Comforting. The sound was only sporadic—completely unpredictable, serving as an intermittent jolt to keep me alert.
Now it was getting HOT. Don’t get me wrong—I LOVE to ride in hot weather, but even with these reptilian tendencies, I started to wonder if steam was coming out the vents of my helmet. Climbed Dayton Mountain (3.5 miles, again) in the direct sun. Still an awesome climb. Phenomenal descent—8% grade, sweeping turns, and a stellar view of the Cumberland Plateau. Speaking of which, we needed to climb back up on that tabletop. Remember that steep descent I mentioned earlier? Time to pay up. It started as an 8-9% grade—enough to get your attention. And THEN. . . in plain view, there appeared 3 vertical walls, each separated by a switchback. Estimated at 20%. Ende confirms that it was comparable to Coxes Creek, for those of you familiar with that bone-crusher. This occurred with 332 miles in our legs. I took Jimmy’s lead and started using the full width of the road, weaving back and forth. Peter was right there in the mix, too. John was behind us, and, displaying the only ounce of common sense in the bunch, got off his bike to walk. He lost no time on us—in other words, he could walk as fast as we were “riding.” Made it to the top without tipping over, and then collapsed under some farmer’s tree. After a brief respite, we hobbled to the last control before the end! We met up with Jeff from Nashville, who kindly waited for us to finish eating, etc.
Our little pod set off for the final 38 miles of our journey, immediately following a brief cloudburst at the store. Wet pavement, hot temps, bright sun. Hey—much better than riding in the monsoon that we heard our buddies in Raleigh were subjected to! Back through Fall Creek Falls Park again. It had been established long ago that this route was either going UP or going DOWN. At this point, Ende proclaimed the overriding commandment of the ride: “THOU SHALT NOT RIDE ON A FLAT ROAD!!” This definitely stuck, at least in my mind. It was at this point that every climb around every corner got on my last nerve and jumped up and down on it, repeatedly. Approximately 14 miles from the end, I found myself on a 10-mile STRAIGHT stretch of road that undulated UP and DOWN for as far as the eye could see, like a ribbon, rippling into the distance. Direct sun. But I knew I could make it, and I did. Next stop, Paris!
Tennessee 600K Ride Report - Ian Flitcroft
TENNESSEE 600K RIDE REPORT
June 2nd & 3rd 2007
By Ian Flitcroft
I rode the TN 600km last weekend to complete what John Ende jokingly called a "Gentleman's 1200". Here's a short ride report. Jeff Bauer and Jeff Sammons also rode both the GA600 and the TN600. The TN600 started in McMinnville and traveled east for 200km through Dayton to Tellico Plains. The route then completed the 115 mile loop of the “Cherohala Challenge” course, returned to Tellico Plains, and then headed back to McMinnville. We had excellent riding conditions for June with cool cloudy weather until Sunday afternoon when the sun came out and the wind picked up from the west.
Fourteen riders left McMinnville at 4am central time and everyone rode together to the first control. There was then a scramble to leave the control ASAP, and consequently the group broke into two. Some familiar faces in the second group included John Ende, Jimmy Williams, and Caroline Atkins. The ride ascended to a plateau and then dropped steeply down some 2.5 miles (a tough climb on the way back) into Pikeville. Crossing a valley we climbed up Dayton mountain, with 6 miles along the top (where we regrouped into one large front group of 8 riders) and down into Dayton, after which the ride to Tellico Plains was relatively flat.
The first group leaving Tellico Plains was five strong and the riding was straightforward to the next control in Vonore. The route then turned SE and headed for the "Tail of the Dragon". This is one of the premier destinations in the US for motorcyclists and they were out in force. The climb up to Deal's Gap along the "Tail of the Dragon" is fun, but diminished by all the bikes and cars.
In Robbinsville, I stayed to eat and so rode up the Cherohala Skyway by myself. It reminded me of the climb up to the Blue Ridge parkway on highway 216 (?) on John Bryant's old 400km course - a very long, sustained climb, with each turn revealing even higher hills beyond. It was completely dark when I finally "summited" at 5,400 feet. I arrived with Tim Martin and found George Hiscox and Alex Meade waiting at the top. The SAG volunteer was also waiting with iced drinks although it was cool enough on top that we quickly chilled off in our sweaty clothes. The group was rather split up on the descent. A new SON powered E6 + Ixon LED + Petzl Duo halogen headlamp = 40 mph descending. A single LED = < 25 mph descending. And there was a lot of descending! There were also some annoying half mile rollers to negotiate just before the control in Tellico Plains.
Being second down the hill meant I had a choice of beds at the cabin resort, but that was moot as the other three all decided to ride straight through. So after a sleep I left with Jeff Bauer at dawn and rode with him through to Dayton. I then slogged my way up Dayton Mountain and the climb out of Pikeville and managed to crawl to the finish by mid afternoon. Thirteen of the fourteen starters finished, the lone DNF going off course on the way out. But given the generally favorable weather I don't think this course could be made harder without a rash of DNFs.
Cheers, Ian
June 2nd & 3rd 2007
By Ian Flitcroft
I rode the TN 600km last weekend to complete what John Ende jokingly called a "Gentleman's 1200". Here's a short ride report. Jeff Bauer and Jeff Sammons also rode both the GA600 and the TN600. The TN600 started in McMinnville and traveled east for 200km through Dayton to Tellico Plains. The route then completed the 115 mile loop of the “Cherohala Challenge” course, returned to Tellico Plains, and then headed back to McMinnville. We had excellent riding conditions for June with cool cloudy weather until Sunday afternoon when the sun came out and the wind picked up from the west.
Fourteen riders left McMinnville at 4am central time and everyone rode together to the first control. There was then a scramble to leave the control ASAP, and consequently the group broke into two. Some familiar faces in the second group included John Ende, Jimmy Williams, and Caroline Atkins. The ride ascended to a plateau and then dropped steeply down some 2.5 miles (a tough climb on the way back) into Pikeville. Crossing a valley we climbed up Dayton mountain, with 6 miles along the top (where we regrouped into one large front group of 8 riders) and down into Dayton, after which the ride to Tellico Plains was relatively flat.
The first group leaving Tellico Plains was five strong and the riding was straightforward to the next control in Vonore. The route then turned SE and headed for the "Tail of the Dragon". This is one of the premier destinations in the US for motorcyclists and they were out in force. The climb up to Deal's Gap along the "Tail of the Dragon" is fun, but diminished by all the bikes and cars.
In Robbinsville, I stayed to eat and so rode up the Cherohala Skyway by myself. It reminded me of the climb up to the Blue Ridge parkway on highway 216 (?) on John Bryant's old 400km course - a very long, sustained climb, with each turn revealing even higher hills beyond. It was completely dark when I finally "summited" at 5,400 feet. I arrived with Tim Martin and found George Hiscox and Alex Meade waiting at the top. The SAG volunteer was also waiting with iced drinks although it was cool enough on top that we quickly chilled off in our sweaty clothes. The group was rather split up on the descent. A new SON powered E6 + Ixon LED + Petzl Duo halogen headlamp = 40 mph descending. A single LED = < 25 mph descending. And there was a lot of descending! There were also some annoying half mile rollers to negotiate just before the control in Tellico Plains.
Being second down the hill meant I had a choice of beds at the cabin resort, but that was moot as the other three all decided to ride straight through. So after a sleep I left with Jeff Bauer at dawn and rode with him through to Dayton. I then slogged my way up Dayton Mountain and the climb out of Pikeville and managed to crawl to the finish by mid afternoon. Thirteen of the fourteen starters finished, the lone DNF going off course on the way out. But given the generally favorable weather I don't think this course could be made harder without a rash of DNFs.
Cheers, Ian
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Arkansas 200K Ride Report
Arkansas 200K Ride Report
June 9, 2007
By John Shelso
The campground on top of Mt. Magazine was still dark when my cell phone alarm sounded at 5 am. Although it was Arkansas-humid, it was almost too cool for just a bike jersey while at rest, a good temp for a climb. There would be no time for breakfast before dressing for the ride. Except for a Camel Back with some water, the bare minimum tools to change a flat/tube, and some Hammer Gel, I stashed everything else I intended to take on the ride at a spot in the bushes near the visitor center at the top of the mountain climb.
After the short drive down to Havana, I spied another bike-laden vehicle searching for the Baptist church start location. Clay had over-nighted with relatives in Little Rock, but is from Dallas. We met David, who had been on the road from Cabot Arkansas since ~ 3 am. Dana, and his wife Grace, pulled up without time to spare to get the paperwork finished before the eventual 6:34 am start.
Dana was using a "loaner" bike. I was the only one with a triple crank. There were only a couple miles to warm up, and down some gel, before beginning the first climb of the day. How is one to describe any mountain climb? I might call this one a "Goldie Locks"; just right. I only recall 3 main turns, and no exceptionally steep sections....mostly steady grade. It was probably because of getting the most sleep, the triple crank, and the light load that I was able be the first to the top. As I fetched my stashed water bottles and rack bag, I briefly interrupted Grace's nap and munched half an energy bar. That was probably when Clay passed by without our notice. I waited for the company of another rider for at least 10 minutes, but didn't want to get too chilled after the sweat of the climb. I was grateful for my windbreaker/rain-jacket on the descent. Instead of concentrating on the effort of climbing, I rode the brakes most of the way down to catch glimpses of the scenery. The thickness of the trees along the road hid most of the somewhat foggy vistas. There was no traffic to speak of. It felt like a "private" wilderness trek.
As the descent slowed, the temperature also warmed; and I stowed my jacket. Without the overcast cover, it would have quickly become uncomfortable. I briefly caught up with Grace's minivan (she was leapfrogging the riders at control points) at a road construction flagman stop. Until after the control in Paris, I didn't realize this northwestern leg had been favored by a tailwind. I must have missed Grace while she was shopping in the Paris Wal-Mart. I had the clerk sign my brevet card as I picked up a breakfast of powdered sugar donuts and chocolate milk. The Phillips 66 gas station clerk filled my water bottles before I headed straight east on highway 22. By this time the clouds thinned out and a mild-moderate quartering/headwind picked up. The few rollers did little to break the drudgery of the rough surfaced and bumpy asphalt. The following day I would meet a local who explained that this highway takes the "oversized" traffic that isn't able to use the interstate. Because of the headwind, and the attention needed for the road surface, I can't recall much distinctive scenery before getting near Russellville.
Outside of Dardanelle, looking across the Arkansas River, there is an impressive view of the nuclear power plant. As I passed several relaxed fishermen, I was briefly jealous of their satisfaction in such a relaxed endeavor, compared to my biking "adventures". Liberty Rd (CR 51) was the connector to Highway 155 for the ride to the base of Mt. Nebo (also a nuclear evacuation route). At about this point, my legs felt a steady "burn". I was doing me best to stay ahead on fluids, but knew it wasn't a good sign I didn't need to pee. I took a couple Ibuprofen and Tums at that point. I think the Tums delayed the absorption of the Ibuprofen; so I don't intend to use that combo again.
At the base of Mt. Nebo, just off the highway, I stashed all my equipment except a partially full water bottle. I had 2 hrs to get to the control at the top. In short order, I found myself wishing for even lower gears. I'm not too proud to share that I walked up more than half the climb. I have only been randonneuring for ~15 months. This was unquestionably the steepest sustained climb I have ever attempted. It seemed like near three fourths of the climb I briefly ran across Clay while he was on his way down. He greeted me with "welcome to mount Ne-Blow"! After getting my brevet card signed by the visitor center staff, I ran across Grace. She was speaking on her cell phone to Dana and David, who had just reached the base of the mountain. Dana was calling for a ride. As I began my descent, I noticed a traffic warning sign stating the road was an 18% grade! At that point I lost all shame in my previous walking. I also understood and sympathized with Dana's call for a ride. I crossed David on his way up, as I made my descent. Not too far past Grace's van, I recovered my stashed equipment and headed into Dardanelle for lunch.
The McDonald's grilled chicken sandwich and Hi-C orange drink left me feeling a little bloated. The sky would intermittently clear, and then get overcast for the rest of the ride. The humidity stayed. Most of this southward leg was flat to rollers. Fatigued legs struggled with the aprox 800 ft lib before getting to Lake Nimrod at Fouche Junction. By the way, Fouche Juction is just a place on the map, no real town, or even the ubiquitous convenience stores that occasionally dot the rest of the route.
The ride along Lake Nimrod was quite soothing. The good road, without significant grades, followed the contour of the northern shore. I think I read that this is the oldest lake in Arkansas that was built by the Army Corps of Engineers. By this time, I guessed I was the last of the persistent (crazy) riders of the day. I briefly stopped at one of the campgrounds along the lake to ask for water for my Camel Back. The campground host & hostess appeared to be a retired couple. After several hours of solo riding, I tarried with their conversation in the shade for about 10 minutes before pushing on to the Lake Nimrod Bait and Tackle, a couple miles before Plainview. Grace, Dana, and David were waiting in the air-conditioned minivan as I pulled in. At that point, I heard Clay was about 25 minutes ahead. So fully loaded with fluids, and about 2 hrs ahead of control closing time pace I faced the last stretch.
Why is it the last climb of the day has to come when it is the most uncomfortably hot? Even though this was the smallest climb, I took a rest about half way. All through the afternoon, I had noted the packs of motorcyclists who were enjoying these Ouachita routes. At this point, even the motorcyclists seemed to be finding relief from the heat, with fewer riders passing by.
The last 16 mile stretch was mostly flat, and with a tailwind. Clay was the first to honk at me from his SUV, as he was about 10 miles out of Havana. David passed me about 2 miles out. I was satisfied with my effort when I passed my brevet card to Dana about 10 hrs 49 min from start time. My first words to him were, " remind me to never attempt this ride again unless I have been though previous EXTENSVE TRAINING"! Clay had shared with me he had logged ~ 5000 miles this year in is PBP preparation. I had logged ~2500 miles (including a 400K with 20,000 feet of climbing in Georgia, and a 600K with 26,000 feet of climbing in east Tennessee and North Carolina). Final advice: If you are looking for fun, don't plan climbing Mt. Nebo in the heat.
After sincerely thanking Dana and Grace, I mounted my bike on my car and drove back up the mountain to my campground. A quick shower felt great before I made the 1/4 mile drive to the new Lodge facilities' restaurant. An excellent meal, and two Budweisers were more potent than any anesthetic as I lay on my sleeping bag that evening.
Dana should be praised for crafting such a scenic and challenging route (estimated over 6,000 ft of total climbing). If this ride's character becomes better known, the combination of two of the nation's top road bike mountain climbs in a 200K brevet could easily become a "destination" brevet. Given the availability of the top notch, resort-level, state park accommodations on top of Mt. Magazine, I sincerely hope this could become a classic.
John Shelso
Memphis
June 9, 2007
By John Shelso
The campground on top of Mt. Magazine was still dark when my cell phone alarm sounded at 5 am. Although it was Arkansas-humid, it was almost too cool for just a bike jersey while at rest, a good temp for a climb. There would be no time for breakfast before dressing for the ride. Except for a Camel Back with some water, the bare minimum tools to change a flat/tube, and some Hammer Gel, I stashed everything else I intended to take on the ride at a spot in the bushes near the visitor center at the top of the mountain climb.
After the short drive down to Havana, I spied another bike-laden vehicle searching for the Baptist church start location. Clay had over-nighted with relatives in Little Rock, but is from Dallas. We met David, who had been on the road from Cabot Arkansas since ~ 3 am. Dana, and his wife Grace, pulled up without time to spare to get the paperwork finished before the eventual 6:34 am start.
Dana was using a "loaner" bike. I was the only one with a triple crank. There were only a couple miles to warm up, and down some gel, before beginning the first climb of the day. How is one to describe any mountain climb? I might call this one a "Goldie Locks"; just right. I only recall 3 main turns, and no exceptionally steep sections....mostly steady grade. It was probably because of getting the most sleep, the triple crank, and the light load that I was able be the first to the top. As I fetched my stashed water bottles and rack bag, I briefly interrupted Grace's nap and munched half an energy bar. That was probably when Clay passed by without our notice. I waited for the company of another rider for at least 10 minutes, but didn't want to get too chilled after the sweat of the climb. I was grateful for my windbreaker/rain-jacket on the descent. Instead of concentrating on the effort of climbing, I rode the brakes most of the way down to catch glimpses of the scenery. The thickness of the trees along the road hid most of the somewhat foggy vistas. There was no traffic to speak of. It felt like a "private" wilderness trek.
As the descent slowed, the temperature also warmed; and I stowed my jacket. Without the overcast cover, it would have quickly become uncomfortable. I briefly caught up with Grace's minivan (she was leapfrogging the riders at control points) at a road construction flagman stop. Until after the control in Paris, I didn't realize this northwestern leg had been favored by a tailwind. I must have missed Grace while she was shopping in the Paris Wal-Mart. I had the clerk sign my brevet card as I picked up a breakfast of powdered sugar donuts and chocolate milk. The Phillips 66 gas station clerk filled my water bottles before I headed straight east on highway 22. By this time the clouds thinned out and a mild-moderate quartering/headwind picked up. The few rollers did little to break the drudgery of the rough surfaced and bumpy asphalt. The following day I would meet a local who explained that this highway takes the "oversized" traffic that isn't able to use the interstate. Because of the headwind, and the attention needed for the road surface, I can't recall much distinctive scenery before getting near Russellville.
Outside of Dardanelle, looking across the Arkansas River, there is an impressive view of the nuclear power plant. As I passed several relaxed fishermen, I was briefly jealous of their satisfaction in such a relaxed endeavor, compared to my biking "adventures". Liberty Rd (CR 51) was the connector to Highway 155 for the ride to the base of Mt. Nebo (also a nuclear evacuation route). At about this point, my legs felt a steady "burn". I was doing me best to stay ahead on fluids, but knew it wasn't a good sign I didn't need to pee. I took a couple Ibuprofen and Tums at that point. I think the Tums delayed the absorption of the Ibuprofen; so I don't intend to use that combo again.
At the base of Mt. Nebo, just off the highway, I stashed all my equipment except a partially full water bottle. I had 2 hrs to get to the control at the top. In short order, I found myself wishing for even lower gears. I'm not too proud to share that I walked up more than half the climb. I have only been randonneuring for ~15 months. This was unquestionably the steepest sustained climb I have ever attempted. It seemed like near three fourths of the climb I briefly ran across Clay while he was on his way down. He greeted me with "welcome to mount Ne-Blow"! After getting my brevet card signed by the visitor center staff, I ran across Grace. She was speaking on her cell phone to Dana and David, who had just reached the base of the mountain. Dana was calling for a ride. As I began my descent, I noticed a traffic warning sign stating the road was an 18% grade! At that point I lost all shame in my previous walking. I also understood and sympathized with Dana's call for a ride. I crossed David on his way up, as I made my descent. Not too far past Grace's van, I recovered my stashed equipment and headed into Dardanelle for lunch.
The McDonald's grilled chicken sandwich and Hi-C orange drink left me feeling a little bloated. The sky would intermittently clear, and then get overcast for the rest of the ride. The humidity stayed. Most of this southward leg was flat to rollers. Fatigued legs struggled with the aprox 800 ft lib before getting to Lake Nimrod at Fouche Junction. By the way, Fouche Juction is just a place on the map, no real town, or even the ubiquitous convenience stores that occasionally dot the rest of the route.
The ride along Lake Nimrod was quite soothing. The good road, without significant grades, followed the contour of the northern shore. I think I read that this is the oldest lake in Arkansas that was built by the Army Corps of Engineers. By this time, I guessed I was the last of the persistent (crazy) riders of the day. I briefly stopped at one of the campgrounds along the lake to ask for water for my Camel Back. The campground host & hostess appeared to be a retired couple. After several hours of solo riding, I tarried with their conversation in the shade for about 10 minutes before pushing on to the Lake Nimrod Bait and Tackle, a couple miles before Plainview. Grace, Dana, and David were waiting in the air-conditioned minivan as I pulled in. At that point, I heard Clay was about 25 minutes ahead. So fully loaded with fluids, and about 2 hrs ahead of control closing time pace I faced the last stretch.
Why is it the last climb of the day has to come when it is the most uncomfortably hot? Even though this was the smallest climb, I took a rest about half way. All through the afternoon, I had noted the packs of motorcyclists who were enjoying these Ouachita routes. At this point, even the motorcyclists seemed to be finding relief from the heat, with fewer riders passing by.
The last 16 mile stretch was mostly flat, and with a tailwind. Clay was the first to honk at me from his SUV, as he was about 10 miles out of Havana. David passed me about 2 miles out. I was satisfied with my effort when I passed my brevet card to Dana about 10 hrs 49 min from start time. My first words to him were, " remind me to never attempt this ride again unless I have been though previous EXTENSVE TRAINING"! Clay had shared with me he had logged ~ 5000 miles this year in is PBP preparation. I had logged ~2500 miles (including a 400K with 20,000 feet of climbing in Georgia, and a 600K with 26,000 feet of climbing in east Tennessee and North Carolina). Final advice: If you are looking for fun, don't plan climbing Mt. Nebo in the heat.
After sincerely thanking Dana and Grace, I mounted my bike on my car and drove back up the mountain to my campground. A quick shower felt great before I made the 1/4 mile drive to the new Lodge facilities' restaurant. An excellent meal, and two Budweisers were more potent than any anesthetic as I lay on my sleeping bag that evening.
Dana should be praised for crafting such a scenic and challenging route (estimated over 6,000 ft of total climbing). If this ride's character becomes better known, the combination of two of the nation's top road bike mountain climbs in a 200K brevet could easily become a "destination" brevet. Given the availability of the top notch, resort-level, state park accommodations on top of Mt. Magazine, I sincerely hope this could become a classic.
John Shelso
Memphis
