The Worst Journey in the World

By now I'm sure you've all heard about how I didn't finish at Dirty Kansa and had one of the worst races of my life as far as aftermath goes. That's true, but I suppose you'd like to hear the whole story. Here it is:

Friday night I slept fitfully. I'm not sure why. I knew that I was overconfident going in. I had done two previous 200 mile rides and both had gone very well. I knew that I could finish, but I also knew that 200 miles and 16+ hours in the saddle holds a lot of unpredictability. There are too many things that can go wrong. One guy I know has tried to do a double century on the road several times only to be thwarted by t-storms every time. That was one possible obstacle for the race, but others I was concerned about were flat tires, crashes, and the heat of the day. I was to have a couple of these problems, but I can now add a few more items to my list of concerns.

As I was saying, I slept poorly the night before and I didn't feel all that great in the morning, but that's not really a cause for concern on these rides. I rarely feel good in the morning and the best way to deal with it is to get on the bike and start riding. With a few miles under me I usually start to feel better. I can almost always make a good day out of a bad one. I drank a bottle of Boost and rode to the start line.

As we rolled out through town I felt like the pace was too fast. I wanted to take it easy while the rest of the field was pushing 20 mph on the streets of Emporia. It wasn't much of a problem to keep up though and I kept with the pack. I figured that the group would break up as soon as we hit the gravel and I could find my own pace. That wasn't to be. The first miles of gravel were flat and fast and the peloton (if I may) stayed tight. It wouldn't be until we hit the first hills about fifteen miles in that the group really started to break up and I could try to find my pace.

As soon as we got out of town the wind hit us. It was at least 20 mph or harder out of the WSW. The course steered us directly into it as we made our way to the Flint Hills rangeland. I am a good hill rider, I have a pretty good strength to weight ratio, but I am not a good wind rider, I have a poor strength to area ratio. Big guys with big legs are usually better at that. Still I was doing okay. When we got to the hills I would pass folks on the way up and I could usually keep them behind me. Still I knew that today wasn't going to be a fast one for me. I wasn't feeling real strong on the hills like I knew I should.

I passed a lot of people with flat tires, especially after water crossings. It seemed to me that people were shooting through the rocky crossings too fast and finding sharp chert to puncture tires or else pinch flatting on the rocks. I would slow down before the crossings, not wanting to crash on a hidden rock or get a flat this early in the race. Still, I was hoping that the tough new tires I had just put on the bike would protect me, even if I did make a bad decision. I rode with a fellow (sorry, I'm terrible with names) from Cedar Falls on a Salsa Fargo for quite a few miles through this first 60 mile section. He said something about how riding with someone makes the time go faster. I didn't say anything, but I know the opposite to be true for me. Riding alone is when I can "zone out" and ride hard for miles without noticing any time passing, my favorite part of any ride.

Most of the first section was through open range with huge stone slabs creating terraces across the hills. Few signs of civilization were evident outside of the road. The exceptions were radio towers on hilltops, oil wells, and one gigantic mansion in the middle of nowhere. Signs of cattle however were everywhere.

By the time I made it to the first checkpoint at mile 61 in the town of Cottonwood Falls I was spent. I hadn't managed to wake up and start feeling better like I usually do and the ride was already the hardest sixty miles of gravel I had ever done. It wasn't shaping up to be a good day. I thought about calling it quits, but I thought about Charlie and decided to take a nap before deciding. I slept for about twenty minutes under a tree and it felt great. After the nap I wasn't feeling good, but I knew I could make it another 42 miles to the next checkpoint. Knowing that the next section was more sheltered from the wind and flatter I opted not to fill my Camelbak to full. I left with 1.5 liters in the bag and a 20 oz. water bottle on the bike. I was using Ultima Replenisher in my Camelbak which has served me well on long hot rides in the past (including a previous DK), but it didn't seem to be doing its job as well on this ride.

The next forty-two miles took me along Diamond Creek road past ploughed fields and farm houses. The gravel would occasionally turn to asphalt for no apparent reason for a few hundred yards and then go back to gravel. As I figured this section was much easier than the first, but the heat was far worse. I wasn't visibly sweating, but I knew I was going to regret not having filled up all the way on water at Cottonwood Falls. I was still seeing riders stopped along the road with flats every few miles and a few times just lying in the shade taking a break. I was surprised since these 40 miles were so much easier and the roads so much better maintained. I was looking forward to breaking out of the valley and heading East so I could take advantage of the strong winds that had dogged us all morning. By the time I got there though I was disappointed to find that the winds had shifted to the North and were once again fighting me. As I made it to the second checkpoint at mile 103 at Council Grove I was pretty sure I was done. I had made a full century ride and knew I wasn't going to make the finish without some kind of miracle.

I mulled the options over and decided to call it quits when Dustin from Great Bend Kansas made me an offer. If I would ride with him to Alma, the third checkpoint at mile 142, his girlfriend would drive us back to Emporia (the start/finish). I accepted. Another 39 miles was possible. My knees hurt and I was tired, I wasn't really feeling like myself, but 39 miles is an easy ride, short almost.

We headed out in the heat and headed almost straight North into the wind. The wind wasn't strong, maybe 8-12 mph, but it was there and it was slowing us down. About 10 miles down the road we hooked up with Jim (?) from Lawrence Kansas and took our first break. I had planned to go 20 before stopping, but I wasn't going to argue. I felt like I needed one too. The next stop was about 7 miles down the road, and then about 5. We were getting worn down.

About that time, some twenty miles into the section we hit a road called, variously, "'Lil Egypt" or "Little Egypt." The smallest gravel was the size of a hen's egg and it was all the sharp edged chert that had been chewing up folks tires all day. Sure enough about half a mile along Jim got a flat. We all stopped and waited. Dustin helped Jim out a bit with a CO2 cartridge while I sat on a flat rock and put my head down to rest. After a few minutes we got back on the road again. Not a hundred yards down the road I flatted. I called out to the guys ahead of me, but they were already headed down a steep hill into a creek valley and likely didn't hear. I inspected the tire and found an inch long gash where a rock had gotten me. I first tried to boot the tire with a GU package, but it wouldn't stay in place with the undersized tube I had brought as a spare. Luckily the glueless patches I had were particularly tough plastic and about an inch square. I stuck one to the inside of the tire, only about a half inch slice showed on the inside, and hoped for the best. I pumped until I was tired of pumping, then pumped some more and called it good. I figured I only had about 35 psi or so in the tire (I had started the morning with 65), but I was concerned about the tube bursting through the gash in the tire. I would just have to ride carefully. I headed down the hill which was covered in fist size rocks and washed out from recent rains. I expected either a crash or another flat at any time. As I was riding up the other side of the tiny creek valley I came upon my two companions walking down towards me. I dismounted and we all walked back up to their bikes at the top. 'Lil Egypt road had several more steep washes to ride through and all were sketchy with their sharp and loose rocks. We walked most of the uphills and luckily we had no more flats.

We only had about fifteen more miles to Alma, but we came across at least two maybe three riders sitting alongside the road, cell phones out, waiting for rescue and a ride back to town. I was confident we'd make it without help. The course indicated for us to ride pavement for a couple of miles then turn off and ride another five or so miles of gravel before getting to the checkpoint, but according to the map we could cut off all of that gravel and just ride straight into town on pavement. I didn't want to be the first to suggest it, but someone did and the decision was made. We took the shortcut and called it quits at Alma. It felt a little odd to be giving up after only 140 miles, but I knew I didn't have it in me. I was done...or so I thought.

About 10 minutes after we stopped the gurgling in my stomach started. I hit the convenience store bathroom just in time. That taken care of Dustin handed me a Gatorade and we hopped in the truck for the hour long drive back to Emporia. We started with the windows down in the 90 degree heat, but just a few minutes down the road I was shivering with cold. I also became nauseous and I couldn't force myself to drink the Gatorade. With the windows rolled up Dustin and Jim were sweltering, but I was still cold. I knew this wasn't good. The only thing I could think was that a warm shower might cure me. By the time we got to the hotel I had to jump out and run for the toilet again. Still shivering, I found the warmest room in the hotel, a hallway with vending machines, and curled up to rest and try to find the strength to find a shower. Joel, one of the race directors found me there and ushered me to his room where he kindly offered his shower and found my finish line bag with my clothes in it. The shower felt good and took care of the shivering. I don't know how long I sat there, warm water running over me, I knew something was more seriously wrong than I had ever been through at a race. When I didn't think the shower was doing me any more good I got out, wrapped a towel around me and passed out on the floor. I don't know how long it was. Probably only fifteen minutes or so, but I was feeling well enough to walk around. I dressed and made my way outside to the finish area. Someone had kindly unloaded my bike and I laid down next to it and slept for a while. When I woke, Joel offered me some pizza and I forced down a slice, but couldn't do much more. I had just expended more than 10,000 calories on a hot day and I was having trouble eating and drinking. Not good. I got up and biked across the street to my hotel where I laid down in bed and once again had a bad night of sleep. I was afraid that the ride home would make me car-sick, but I just slept the whole way.

Since then I've been shivering, achy, and having gut pains on and off. I get a little better every day, but I don't seem to get better. I initially wrote it off as dehydration, but now I think maybe I got some contaminated food or water. It couldn't have come at a worse time. Now I'm weak and the idea of doing a long ride has absolutely no appeal for me. I couldn't make it more than ten or fifteen miles right now anyway. This is by far the worst I have ever felt after a race and I hope it never happens again. I enjoy being sore from exercise, but this is too much like being sick. Hopefully within the next few days I'll make a full recovery and I can get back to biking and more hopefully roller-skiing in anticipation of this winter's Arrrowhead.

Marathon Matt

After last winter's Arrowhead race I knew that I needed to do more cross-training for skiing. It's too easy to bike during the summer and then when the snow falls get a few miles of skiing in in an attempt to get ready for the big dance (as Charlie would say). It's too little too late though. It's impossible to get those skiing muscles in shape in just a few weeks and expect to be able to gut out 135 miles. 70? Sure, that's do-able, but really I need to be doing more, different sorts of workouts all through the year. With that in mind I decided that I needed to run a marathon this summer.

I had been looking at doing Grandma's Marathon in Duluth (June 20th) or the Des Moines Marathon (October 18th), but when I heard about TIMTAM, a marathon in a park that I ride through literally every day and with no entry fee it was too good to pass up. The down side was that I only had a week and a half to prepare and was still recovering from a nasty bout of the flu.

How did I train with those constraints? I didn't. I rested. I knew that if I tried to run more than a couple of miles I risked blisters and soreness that would haunt me in the marathon. No, I needed to count on my base of biking miles and what little running I had done in the previous months. My last run had been a 5k about three weeks previous and my longest run had been about 7 miles. Not much to go on.

As I arrived to sign in on Sunday morning I was confident that I would finish. I have done tougher, longer events. Mentally I was prepared for the pain and tedium, but I wasn't confident that I would finish running, or with my knees intact. At 7am we were off. Five laps around a 5.25 mile course for the marathon. Some people were doing the 10.5 mile, two lap race, and many, if not most were doing the whole 50k, 6 lap race. I was hoping at the start to be able to do the 50k, but I had my doubts.

For the first lap and a half I was doing great. I found a pace that worked well for me and fell in with a group that included some runners from Grinnell and a man working on his second time around the 50 states. The experienced 5o stater said that we were on pace for a 4 hour finish. Faster than I had hoped, but I was still optimistic. About nine miles in though I had to fall back. Their pace remained steady while mine just wasn't up to the challenge.

The third lap I ran at a slow pace, with short steps to keep my knees from giving out. I was sore, but still felt that I would finsh running. I was on my own at this point. No one near me was going near the same pace. That suited me fine though, I've done many bike rides of 10 hours or more with only myself for company. It's easy to zone out and think about anything or nothing. The race leader passed by me and called out "Nice job, one fourty nine." 1:49, I thought, I'm halfway through and I'm still under two hours, maybe I can finish in a little over 4! It wasn't until a lap later that I realized my race number was 149.

About 18 miles in or 2 miles into the fourth lap my legs gave out on me. There was no way I could pretend to run anymore. I swallowed my pride and started walking. I would walk for a mile or so jog for half a mile, walk some more. I'd guess I walked about half of the fourth lap. I was considering quitting, but I knew I'd be disappointed in myself. Besides, I have walked 50 miles through the mountains with no food in less than 36 hours (long story). I knew I could always walk that last lap. Maybe it wouldn't make for a good story, but I'd have finished the marathon.

I formed a plan in my mind. The loop of the course was broken up into four sections by the aid stations along the way. If I walked two of them then I'd run the other two. I would end running. I started walking the last lap and didn't worry about what other people thought of this youngish skinny guy walking with a race number on. As I got to the first aid station I drank some Gatorade and started into a painful slow run. It hurt, but I didn't feel like I had to stop. When I got to the second aid station I slowed to a walk even though I felt like I could run a few more yards. It wouldn't be worth it in the long haul I thought. At the last aid station I started up running again. I was going to make it. As I got within sight of the finish line I started striding out, just a little, and finished in the slowest sprint I have ever been party to.

My finishing time was an unrespectable 5:41. A testament to my stubborness if nothing else. My knees and calves ached and the blisters on my heels had already popped. Feeling kind of ambivalent about my finish I thought about going out and walking another lap for the 50k, but I stopped myself. I wanted to do a 200 mile bike race in another three weeks and while I knew the sore muscles and blisters would heal in that time I wasn't sure about the knees.

Since then I've been walking stiff legged and going down stairs backwards because of the pain in my calves, but my knees seem to be getting better. I'll take it easy and spin on the bike for the next week to work my knees. Next time I'll train a little more diligently, but I'll have a better base for the Big Dance.

LeGrand trip

I rode out to LeGrand this weekend to volunteer and take some pictures for Trans-Iowa V. LeGrand was the second checkpoint in the race, 151 miles of gravel in and 163 to go for the racers.

I left home at 7:30 AM and headed south out of town and then east along gravel roads. Passing south of Nevada I explored some beautiful roads I had never been on before. Hilly, twisty, and wooded I don't know why I had missed these great roads so close to home. As I passed into Marshall county I stopped, ate some breakfast, and took a couple of photos.

The scenery:


The Bike:


As I approached LeGrand my planned turn to the north on a B road looked a little odd. All the street signs were there, but the first thirty yards or so of the road were ploughed under.


The road continued on for about half a mile.


Then ended. I walked through the field and up to where the road continued near the farmhouse.

I arrived in LeGrand in plenty of time, and took a lot of pictures of all the racers coming through the checkpoint, but that's another story.

After the race went through I planned on biking up to Union Grove State Park to camp, but two miles down the road the bridge over the Iowa river was out, presumably from last year's floods.


After a five mile detour I arrived at the campground just after dark, set up camp, and promptly fell asleep.


In the morning I took a short walk through the park. I wish I'd had more time to explore, but I wanted to get back home. I rode part of the route I took to Cedar Rapids in April. I stopped for a break at the city park in Clemons.


Then rode through the wind farm north of Colo.


It was rough going, the gravel was loose and I had a headwind much of the way. I arrived home two hours later than I had hoped and suffering from a pretty bad sunburn. All together I did two metric centuries over the weekend and my first multi-day "tour" of the year. A pretty good weekend.

Saturday's ride was a 130 mile trip to Cedar Rapids to see family for Easter. I left at 4am after getting about two hours of sleep. That's the way I usually do these things. For the first few hours I was in the dark. Highlights of this section were seeing the horizon to the east covered in the flashing lights from the tops of windmills and getting chased by a dog I could barely see.

Around sunrise I was crossing the Iowa River at Albion and on to the straight flat section from there to south of Vinton. As the sun rose the winds picked up. There wasn't a lot of wind, just 5mph or so, but it was constant and in my face for the whole ride. The wind took its toll on my by the end of the ride making me much more sore than I would normally be after a ride of this length.

There isn't much to say about Marshall county, but as I entered Tama county I was expecting a B road section, but instead got a dead end. I know that I rode on that road two years ago, but now it's a plowed field. I detoured north a mile and continued on. I shouldn't say that it's all flat between Albion and Vinton. There was a long section in Tama county that was rolling hills. I didn't remember it from the last time I had been there.

A few B roads broke up the monotony and were a relief from the often new, soft, and loose gravel I encountered for much of the trip. I wished that I had brought a camera for a few of these classic sections of road. By the time I got near Vinton I was ready for a change of pace.

A few miles north I found myself riding along the Cedar River on a road that I think is one of the best in the state. Not only does it go right along the banks of the Cedar, but it is a minimum maintenance road that has flood warning signs along it. It doesn't hurt that there is a nice park there, the Benton City Fry Access, and it includes a hill to rival those on the Des Moines river. I stopped at the park for my first rest of the trip at mile 107 and drank a Boost and a Monster along with a few Daddy Ray's fig bars.

The food and caffeine woke me up and let me ride the last 20 or so miles into Cedar Rapids. I crossed the river on the Lewis Bottoms bridge and then rode along some fast smooth gravel south into Cedar Rapids. I felt great and the winding roads were just the kind of road that I like. I even managed to find a few B roads in the last few miles before being dumped out onto the pavement.

It always feels weird arriving at my parents' house after biking there. Almost as though I've passed through some sort of space/time warp and gotten somewhere that I shouldn't be able to by bike. I hope to do it again this year, hopefully exploring some new roads along the way.

Savoir c'est pouvoir

"Knowledge is power," I had always taken this phrase to be about the nature of power. As in, if you have more knowledge then you will be more powerful. In this construction the emphasis seemed to be on book learning and smarts. If you are more educated and read a lot then you will be able to press your agenda on others. If you are not educated then you are weak.

But a few years ago, in college I had a TA who appended the French phrase "Savoir c'est pouvoir," to an e-mail. Another student asked her in class what it meant and she replied that it meant, to know is to be able. This I took to be a statement about the nature of knowledge. That is, if you are able to do something then you know it. Or to take the inverse (assuming a biconditional), if you are not able to do something then you don't know it. This takes the emphasis away from book learning and puts it on practical experience and technical skill.

"To know is to be able," has a similar flavor to Pragmatist statements like "Meaning just is use," (Wittgenstein) and "the true is only the expedient in our way of thinking" (James). According to some (pretty unreliable) sources the pragmatists were inspired by the phrase "knowledge is power" (attributed to Francis Bacon). The proverb has the look of a Pragmatist theory of knowledge. As a sometime Pragmatist myself, I am attracted to this idea of knowledge as something which gets its value through practical use.

I hadn't realized that the two phrases were supposedly equivalent until today. The English phrase I had always disliked, because it implied that well educated people were the best able to effect change, while the French version I had liked because of the implication that if you couldn't actually do something then you didn't know it after all.

Thoughts on "I am a Strange Loop" by Douglas Hofstadter

I really wanted to read Hofstadter's "Goedel, Escher, Bach" but it was checked out at the library so I went for this one instead. I had just read Neal Stephenson's "Anathem" and was curious about references to the loops, logic, and the source of consciousness. I figured that Stephenson had used GEB as a reference (it was obvious that he was using references) and wanted to see what he had drawn from it. (It turns out that he hadn't, see http://www.nealstephenson.com/anathem/acknow.htm, but he does reference Goedel.) Anathem was interesting in a sci-fi kind of way. You know that there's some science there for inspiration, but you doubt that it's portrayed accurately. In this case rather than science it was philosophy that was being used, and I could tell when the arguments broke down, but you get the picture. Accuracy has to be sacrificed for the good of the story. I'm okay with that.
Hofstadter's book, so far as I gather, is a re-hashing of his old ideas from GEB. Apparently he wasn't happy with the results of GEB. Nobody "got" it. Rather than focusing on the examples, the math, the logic, the Escher, the Bach Hofstadter wants readers to focus on the consciousness argument. "I am a Strange Loop" is his attempt to rectify that. He fails.
The parts of this book that are easy to focus on and caught my interest are the chapters on logic, math, and proofs. I am sure that to someone with more experience in math most of what he has to say would be trivial, but to me it was an education. It was the first time I had seen Euclid's proof of the infinitude of prime numbers and it was good to be reminded just what Fermat's last theorem was.
I had studied Bertrand Russell's philosophy before, but I had a poor understanding of what his project was in "Principia Mathematica." And as far as Goedel's proof of the incompleteness of PM I was fascinated. More by his method than by the fact of it. I had always wondered what it meant to say that something was "true but unprovable." Now at least I sort of get it. Hofstadter's examples of loops, both contradictory logic loops and other types were fun as well. I've always wondered who shaves the barber.
Early on I thought that he did a good job avoiding reductionism (even explicitly rejecting it). It's too easy to think that the smaller levels (neurons, molecules, atoms, etc.) are the "True" ones. The places where the work really gets done. But in just a few examples he shows that it is just as useful, usually more so, to think on levels of symbols, ideas, and thoughts when we are examining consciousness. Unfortunately though he claims this sort of anti-reductionist position he shows his true reductionist colors later in the book as he combats dualisms (which I generally also reject). He wants there to be a "really real world" down there somewhere and he's willing to sacrifice higher level functions to get it.
He dismisses qualia quickly and without much argument. While I think that the question of "what it feels like to be an X" is metaphysically interesting, like most metaphysics it doesn't get you anywhere. Still I don't think he should dismiss the idea as simply silly.
One controversial subject that he fearlessly dives into is levels of consciousness. He proposes that different beings have different levels of consciousness. A spectrum of sorts with rocks on one end, moving through single celled animals, to insects, fish, chickens, dogs, babies, and adult humans on top. It's a spectrum that most of us believe in to one degree or another and can lead us to some interesting conclusions. Especially in conjunction with his belief that consciousness is equal to moral value.
As far as that goes Hofstadter believes that the more conscious something is the more ethically valuable it is. Therefore something more conscious, like a dog, or adult human, should not be mistreated, killed, etc.. While something less conscious, like a rock, (or Hofstadter's favorite example) a mosquito, is less deserving of respect. Given this we can ascertain his beliefs on a number of ethical quandaries. Obviously he's a vegetarian and a pro-choicer, but one wonders about the ethical status of babies and comatose people. To give a literal lifeboat scenario, think of yourself on a lifeboat with a comatose person and a live dog. Which one would you eat first? What if the person were dead?
Of course it doesn't automatically follow that Hofstadter would eat the human rather than the dog. There is clearly more going on in ethics than just consciousness, but what role does it really play? Hofstadter also makes remarks about war, criminals, and the de-humanizing of enemies as an example of our beliefs about certain peoples' level of consciousness.
More bizarrely he links levels of consciousness with musical aptitude. Musically minded people he believes are more attuned (no pun intended) to emotions, therefore more conscious themselves and thus more moral people. He cites Bach and Albert Schweitzer to support his thesis. I hope it's just a quirk of his. I'm not much of a music person, but then maybe I'm not very ethical either.
The irony of the book is that Hofstadter's heroes are dualists and would likely have disagreed with him vehemently. Goedel was a Platonist who believed that mathematics was a real thing, discovered not created. Schweitzer was religious and his beliefs were the basis for his acts. Moreover Hofstadter would have disagreed with the whole premise Neal Stephenson's novel that started me reading his book in the first place.

April Snow

I decided, rather than sit around all day, to enjoy the snowstorm yesterday. I got out the skis for one last trip around the arboretum. I had to use klister of course, and the stuff is way too sticky for it's own good. It gets on everything and doesn't come off. Most of the time the skiing was slow but okay. Occasionally though the snow would pack up under my ski and stick there. It was like skiing with muddy boots on. It felt pretty good to get out though. It seems as though biking isn't as much fun as it used to be. I rarely go for long rides alone anymore. But skiing is still fun all by itself with no goals or company.

A Short Ride

The ever ambitious Nick had a vision of a double century today, but it wasn't to be. The original plan was to ride down to Pella and Lake Red Rock, but due to Saturday's snow and rain down there Nick, Paul, and I compromised and decided on a route north and east to Eldora and Iowa Falls for about 140 miles. Initial conditions weren't what we were hoping for. A strong wind from the NNW dogged us from the first. Combined with sub-freezing temps that had our Camelbak hoses frozen solid at points and numbed our fingers and toes we were in for a rough one.

Going east, roughly with the wind, was a treat and I thought we might finish the ride feeling pretty fresh, but I should have known better. At about mile 40 when we turned north we had to fight not just the wind, but some pretty tough rollers of hills. By the time we hit Eldora at mile 60 we were ready to turn around and after a brief discussion we decided on a route that would put right at 100 miles and Nick and me at about 113. Going south with the wind was a treat, but east was still a chore.

Our revised route had us riding along 270th Street in Hardin county all the way through Hubbard and Radcliffe, but that was a lie. 270th doesn't go straight there at all. After that it was dead reckoning as we zigzagged SW. We found some pretty nice B roads that curved through scenic hills. Unfortunatley we also found several miles of pavement that were pretty much unavoidable. At Roland we took a bike path for a mile that was far worse than the B roads we had been on. By the time we crossed I35 and the Skunk River we were more than ready to be done. The last few miles into Gilbert Nick and I sprinted for the tops of hills, but niether of us had much left in our legs.

We were all pretty satisfied with the distance we went today given the conditions. That double century will have to wait for later in the season when we have some nice weather for once.

First post on new computer.

Last weekend's ride was a gravel century with Nick and Wade. We rode over to Frasier on the Des Moines river and rode north along the valley to Stratford then turned around and came back the same way. As usuall the hills along the route were challenging. They are steep and pretty long for the Midwest, but there aren't as many as I had remembered. We rode more flat river bottom miles than it seemed like we did last year along here.

All along the way I was dreading the last hill out of the valley, Y Camp Hill (166th Ave). It isn't the longest, but it sure seems to be the steepest and most of the hill is hidden from the bottom so you don't know just how far you have to go. I wasn't sure, but I thought I could make it up without walking. As I started up the gravel was looser than I was hoping. That meant that I wouldn't be able to stand up and pedal without my wheels slipping, not to mention that it is a lot harder to ride through loose gravel. About half way up I went over to the left side of the road. Not where I wanted to be given the possiblity of traffic, but it was much smoother than the right side. After I got onto the harder surface it was no problem to finish the climb. It almost seemed too easy.

All in all a pretty good ride for the first century of the year.

CIRREM

On Sunday I decided to do CIRREM, a 62 mile gravel race, at the last minute. Paul, Nick, and I drove down to the start in Cumming where, not to our surprise, the weather had scared away a lot of people. Rain, snow, and temps in the mid thirties were forecast.

It was raining as we rolled out of town and on to the gravel. I started at the back, but soon found myself passing riders and moving up to the front. The hard packed gravel was hardly affected by the rain. Just a couple of miles in Nick and I broke off the front, everyone else seemed to be going too slow for our taste. I have the feeling that if we hadn't done that this wouldn't have been much of a race. People just weren't feeling good in the rain and didn't want to try and push themselves.

Pretty soon though a group of seven or so riders had caught us. We went rode together for a while until five of us broke off the front for good. I was really surprised that I was with that group and that Nick wasn't. He has been riding really well this year and already has two full gravel centuries under his belt.

I rode with this group through some pretty hilly terrain towards Winterset. The rain and snow that were forecast were always present and I didn't mind them. I was perfectly comfortable for the first fifteen miles or so until water started wicking down into my cycling boots. My hands were became too warm too so I stripped them off and rode without for the rest of the race. What wasn't comfortable was the sleet that hit us for a few minutes in the first half of the race. It stung my face and hands, especially on downhills and going into the wind.

After Winterset (which I only recognized because I had ridden some of the same gravel in Paul's GRAID ride last spring) I lost contact with the lead four riders and was on my own for the rest of the race. It was a beautiful ride. Lots of hills, wind, fast gravel, and not a few dogs.

I would pull the cue sheet out of my pocket, memorize the next two turns, put it back and enjoy the ride. It was tough to remember much more than that. After five miles of spacing off it is tough to remember whether the next turn is a right or a left. With five miles to go I put away the cue sheet for good and sprinted for the finsh. I was sure that someone would catch me so every so often I'd glance over my shoulder and see if anyone was back there. No one was.

With three miles to go there was a bridge with lengthwise boards spaced about an inch and a half apart. The same width as my tires. As I came up to it I thought to myself that if I got caught in one it could be a pretty nasty crash. Sure enough, with nearly sixty miles of hard riding behind me it was tough to steer a straight course and I ended up with one tire in the gap. Luckily I managed to ride out without incident. Don't ask me how.

I rode the last couple of miles as fast as I could. Not all that fast really. I arrived at the Cumming Tap in fifth place overall. Not bad. I was happy to get into dry clothes.

Arrowhead Video

A Brazilian news crew filmed much of the Arrowhead this year. The video link is well worth a look if you want to see what the race looks like. Yes it's in Portuguese and it takes a long time to load.

Arrowhead '09

Everything falls apart at 4am. Parties wind down, cramming for exams becomes intolerable, sleepless nights become restless mornings. In this year's Arrowhead 4am is when the cold set in, the shelter was full, and wax wouldn't stick to my skis.
The first eight miles to the turnaround had gone well enough. As usual the flat terrain was trying my patience, but I knew that I'd have more than enough hills once I was past the Gateway Store at mile 35, not to mention if I made it past the halfway checkpoint at Melgeorges. Ten miles in I had re-waxed my skis to accomodate the warmer than expected snow. The temp at the start had been about 4f, but now the sun was melting the ice out of my beard (though only on the south side) and my skis weren't sticking like I wanted.
This year's mantra was 'fix it now, before it becomes a problem.' The year before I hadn't stopped to wax, or eat, or drink, figuring that I could make it just a little farther before I took a break. That hadn't worked. I had ended up effectively poling myself along for nearly 70 miles. By the time I had stopped I couldn't raise my arms above shoulder level. I couldn't let that happen again so I waxed. Much better.
The one thing that I couldn't fix now was my boots. I knew that they didn't fit well. They gave me blisters on my toes and beat up my ankles leaving them bruised and swollen. Unfortunatley I didn't have time before the race to get a new pair and break them in. I was just going to have to suffer with them (I found out later that the boots, though I had been using them for nearly four years, were actually two sizes too big).
At the Hagerman trail shelter, about 20 miles in I once again waxed (carefully, taking my time), ate, and drank. My feet were already in pain so I took some painkillers for it. Within minutes the pain was under control and after a short chat with runners Lara and Tim I was on the move.
As I skied on, feeling okay but slow, I met up with volunteer Ron Kadera. He told me I was looking good and had an efficient stride. At first I thought he was being too generous with his praise, but after thinking about it I changed my mind. As one of the few (four?) ski finishers of the Arrowhead I respect his opinion. He has always been accurate with milages, unlike some snowmobile volunteers, and gives good advice in general.
I arrived at the Gateway store around 6pm or so. It's easy to spend too much time at the store so I set a goal of being out again in an hour. After eating some chili and a hot dog, drinking a Monster energy dring and refilling my water bottles (including 16oz of coffee). I put up my feet for a few minutes while I waxed once again. This time I layered a softer wax over cold in the expectation that the temperature would drop. It was my first time experimenting with layered waxes, but it worked out pretty well. I was off again in just over an hour.
Mike Stattelman and I left about the same time and leapfrogged on to the Ash River shelter. The trail starts to show some terrain around here and I was pleased to find that both my skills and the snow were better than the previous year. Since I had the right wax on I could climb most of the hills without trouble and on the downhills I could both turn and control my speed. In fact over all of the 70 miles I did this year I only crashed three times and once was intentional (to avoid a worse crash), a big improvement over last year.
It didn't seem like too long and we were at the shelter. It was about midnight and the shelter was already overflowing with sleeping competitors. Mike and I were both ready for a break so we skied a short way down the trail and sat down on our sleds to eat and don warmer clothes. Before long we were chilled and ready to get moving again.
Skiing through the night I found that I lost track of time. It seemed like forever to the next turn or the top of the next hill, but it once again seemed like no time and we were at Black Duck shelter, 56 miles and a two fifths of the way through the whole Arrowhead trail. Here's where the race came apart for me. I was tired and cold, it was 4am, and I could tell that my feet were in bad shape from my boots. I told Mike that I was going to take a nap and he went on without me. But the shelter was full here too. I decided to put on some warmer clothes, eat, wax the skis, then make a decision.
The first problem I had was that I couldn't open the tin of wax. I tugged and tugged but the lid was frozen on. With a final yank the lid popped off, sort of, the pins that hold the lid on had broken off in the wax. I knew that the pin would probably scratch up my skis, but at this point I didn't care. I pressed down and tried to crayon the wax on to the ski. It wouldn't happen. The wax was just too cold to go on. After pressing down harder and scrubbing the wax back and forth I got some of it down on the ski, but I knew it was clumpy. I tried to cork it in, but it didn't want to smooth out. I did my best given the tempereature, but it wasn't good. I knew it would only work for a few miles before I had worn most of it off. Thinking back I should have started up my stove and used a pot of hot water to iron in the wax. But I wasn't thinking like that. I didn't want to take the time. I had forgotten my mantra of 'fix it now.'
By now I was awake and reasonably warm so I decided to go on. Lara had caught up to me as well and I really wanted to be faster than at least one runner this year (I really shouldn't have worried, I had passed at least ten sleeping racers). I was comfortable starting off, but in short order my down coat and snowpants were making me sweat. I thought I could slow down a bit to regulate my temperature, but I was already going my slowest. After just a few minutes of skiing my vision started to swim and I thought I might pass out. Finally remembering my mantra, I took off the coat, though not the pants, and continued on.
I was counting on the dawn, only a few hours away, to wake me up and get me in to Melgeorges in good tim, but I knew that that with my feet as bad as they were I wouldn't be continuing on. I caught up with Mike and we skied together through some big hills, that I'm sure seemed bigger because we were tired. I started having to walk up quite a few of them. When dawn arrived it didn't energize me and it didn't seem to warm the air either. I had been right about my wax not lasting and I had to stop again. I tried to use a softer wax in anticipation of the warmer day, and hopes that it would cork in better, but I had most of the same problems I had had at Black Duck shelter. All the softer wax did was take away what little glide I had. It didn't matter much though as I was virtually walking already.
Because of the sun in the sky I had a better sense of time passing, but that wasn't a good thing. I felt like I was making little progress. I caught up with Mike sitting on the trail and leaning up against his sled. He looked pretty comfortable and he admitted to almost drifing off. We talked a little about how much further we had to go to Melgeorges and I estimated three miles. After our short break we found a sign just around the next bend that said five miles to Melgeorges. I wasn't suprised, but I was dissapointed.
When we finally made it to Elephant lake it seemed to take forever to cross. By the time we could see Melgeorges we could see a big group of runners catching up to us. As we skied up to the checkpoint cabin I said to Mike that I was going to wait one hour before throwing in the towel. I probably had the energy to keep going, I really wanted to, but once I took off my boots I made up my mind. I had bloody blisters on most of my toes and red swollen ankles. I might have made it another ten miles, but I didn't want to be evacuated by snomobile as I had been two years before. I made up my mind and have been satisfied with the decision. If anything it has made me more certain that I can finish...with my new boots.

Registration

Registered for the Arrowhead today. I will try to ski it this year. Registration for TransIowa started yesterday. I'll have to get on that.

24 hours of boone

Okay, we're all signed up and going to do this. Corey, Nick, Alex, and I that is. One speed, one bike, one lap, etc. See you there?

Frostbite + Fresh Snow = No Fun

All I can do is look out the window at all the snow and think, "Why, of all the times, do I have to have frostbite now." I'd just like to get out and ski in it, but my frozen toe just won't take it. The doctor says wear a hat, don't drink caffiene, and stay warm. At least he also says the dark brown color is a blood blister and not gangrene.

Arrowhead report to come.

6 Interesting Things

I've been tagged by both Cory and Paul. Does this mean I should list twelve things? Or just six really good ones? Here are five I can think of right now.

1. I am red-green color blind.

2. My first bike race was a 24 hour race (First Annual Iowa 24hr at Boone. I took 3rd place and won $50. Kerkove beat me by 10 laps for first).

3. I do not own a telephone. People can either call me at work or knock on my door.

4. I have never flown commercially, but have flown on private planes 4 times.

5. I have never owned a car, but I did total my boss' car last winter on the way to a race.

What's up?

What I've been up to lately:

Reading. Wendell Berry, Michael Pollan, and now Christopher Moore.

Riding. Not much. Just to and from work, but I did do this last Saturday. I'm riding the 1x1 to try and get ready for the Arrowhead.

Cooking. I've been trying to go to bed early and get up early so I can read and make myself breakfast. Mostly pancakes, fried potatoes, eggs, and sausage.

That's about it.

TOBASCO a success

TOBASCO went well. We cut it short for time and safety reasons so we only ended up doing about 130 miles. In any case a good ride. I'll talk about it more when I have more time. For now you can look at Paul Varnum and Cory's reports and pictures.

TOBASCO still on for Saturday!

Sorry about the long absence everybody. I haven't been around computers much and I've had other stuff on my mind so...there you have it.

TOBASCO is still on for this weekend. Start at 5am at Ledges. Cory, are you planning on camping? How are you getting out there? I'd like to ride out, but with my gear I don't know how I'd do it. Maybe one person can drive and carry gear and the rest can ride or maybe since the ride is so early we should all just drive out. I don't know. We'll make it work somehow.

Here's the final route. Print it out and bring it along. I plan on riding as a group, but you know how it can be. My use of "left" and "right" can be a little misleading in the best of times so check the map as well as the directions. I have ETAs listed at each pass through town, but keep in mind those are estimates and are perhaps a little optimistic.

Possible food stops will be in Madrid, Slater, Huxley, Cambridge, Maxwell, Gilbert, Stratford, and Boone. Other towns may be on the route, but they probably don't have anything. Be prepared to be self sufficient for at least 50 miles at a stretch (more is better). Running out of food is bad. Running out of water is worse.

Weather looks like a mystery so far. We'll see I guess.

So who all is coming? I've heard confirmation from Cory, Nick, and Eric. With no goes from Paul and Dave (who is planning his own epic in his neck of the woods). I heard rumors of participants from Cedar Falls, but fear that my long internet absence may have scared them off. Let me know (post a comment) so we don't leave without you.

TOBASCO update

The TOBASCO ride will be held on November the 4th, starting at 5am at Ledges Park in Boone County Iowa. Here is the more or less finalized version of the course. I hope to have some directions on the map before ride time. Post a comment if you need more info or have any questions. Hopefully all will become clear as mud before the start.

Your opinion needed.

With the postponement of the Endurosnob Epic and conflicts of every variety I'm considering moving the TOBASCO ride back a couple of weeks. The 14th would work, as would the 28th, or perhaps the 4th of November. There's no need to rush the ride in order to get ready for the Epic anymore so why not? Give me a show of hands for which weekend you'd prefer.

I rode the first 50 miles of the TOBASCO route yesterday and it's looking good. There will need to be a few course tweaks, but I think everything will work out. I'll update the map soon.

Endurosnob Epic Cancelled!?!

Sad news. Snob has cancelled (okay, techincally postponed) the Endurosnob Epic. I was really looking forward to it too, reading everything I could get my hands on about the backroads of Nebraska and so on. November is a bit scary, but I was willing to risk it. I had planned on carrying emergency camp-out stuff just in case. Oh well. I'll just have to put my energy into the TOBASCO ride and then the Arrowhead.

TOBASCO Ride

In order to prepare for the Epic, I am planning my own training/fun ride on Saturday, October 7th. I am tentatively calling it the Tour of Boone and Story Counties or TOBASCO (despite the fact that it touches Marshall and pokes into Hamilton Counties and there is no hot sauce involved). Here is the tentative route.

Everyone is invited, but bring both your cruising and climbing gears. The ride will start at perhaps 4am at Ledges State park and finish when it finishes. I figure we'll start in the dark so we don't finsh too much after dark. Perhaps there'll be grilling opportunities afterwards.

Thanks to Cory and Jeff for actually publicizing this ride. Special thanks to Jeff Kerkove for the logo.

Triumphant return?

Well, when last I wrote I was preparing to ride in the 24 hour race at Seven Oaks. Preparing might be saying too much. I didn't really do anything to get ready. That might explain my less than stellar performance.

The race started out well enough. I jogged to my bike in nearly last place (right where I wanted to be) and started up the first hill. Now Seven Oaks is a course more to my liking than 9 Mile. I climbed pretty well and, though I couldn't descend the hills like some others I was doing okay and actually passing some people and keeping ahead of them. I felt pretty good that I could ride so much of the course. I rarely had to dismount or even put a foot down. I think that if I put all of the best parts of each lap together I'd only have to dismount once (and I'm so close on that one too). This early confidence may have played a part in my demise.

After four laps I was feeling pretty good and I decided that since I had plenty of water left I'd go out for one more before stopping. This was contrary to my four lap rest strategy, but I don't think that it was a big deal. I did start to notice a bit of a hot spot on my saddle, but I didn't think much of it. The fifth lap went fine and after a quick refill of my Camelbak I went out for another.

On this lap it started to rain. Not much more than a sprinkle, but if you know Seven Oaks then you know how it can be when it's wet. Most of the trail is clay. Hard and fast when dry, but slicker than snot when wet. Think of wet clay in elementary school art class. Think of the way it would get underneath your fingernails and never come out. Think of what that would do if it filled in the tread on your mountain bike tires.

So yeah, I started crashing. On the first tough downhill switchback I took it a little tight and fast and ended up running down the slickening trail with my bike wrapped around my leg. I thought I was going to break my leg, but I just ended up with a bruised knee. I remounted, confidence shaken and continued to ride. I crashed several more times, none too severe, but it caused me to walk a lot. Many places it was as tough or tougher to walk as to ride. I got to a nice flat section of trail and thought to myself, "finally, I can relax for a minute." No sooner had I thought it though than I went down hard (for no apparent reason) and left a divot by the side of the trail with my shoulder. I didn't really hurt myself here either, but I was shaken to have fallen on such an easy part of the course. I rode/walked out the rest of the course and decided to take a break.

The rain quit pretty quickly, but once again, knowing the course I knew it would take hours if not days for it to go back to good riding conditions. I sat down for a while, then lay down, then slept. After dark I awoke and thought I'd try another lap. On my way out I ran into Squirrel and chatted with him about the race. I had only been out of the race for about an hour, but he was up to lap 10 on his single-speed. I had thought that I was doing pretty well, but finding out that someone on a single was four laps ahead of me was another blow.

After that I pretty much called it quits. I hung out for a while, called Eric for a ride and was back home by about one in the morning. I found out after I changed that I had what is perhaps the hugest saddle sore that I've ever had. I guess I'm glad I stopped. Time to look into a new saddle. 6 laps, 7 hours, 42 miles isn't too bad is it?

Thinking back I realize that I was doing pretty well up until the rain hit. I've ridden two other 24 hour races at Seven Oaks and at each one it rained more (much more) than it did this year. What was different? Well, I couldn't ride the course when it was dry the first year. Rain didn't do anything but bring the competition down to my level, walking. This year, since I could ride most everything dry, rain really slowed me down. Also, the rain freaked me out, I let it scare me. I kept picturing myself crashing and that was a huge mental toll. I thought I was going to hurt myself. I stopped having fun.

I'm not sure if I'm going to do any more 24 hour races. I don't think they're my style. Point to point races are much better for me. First, there's no going around in circles which makes the race seem interminable to me. I look at a landmark, say a tree, and then, ages later, when I think I've made some progress, there it is again. I haven't gotten anywhere and I still have to ride all day. In a point to point race there is new scenery at every corner. It's the same sort of thing for me as having a bike computer telling me how fast I'm going. I keep looking at it and saying, "I'm only going 7 mph, that's crazy, I'll never make it at that rate." If I don't look, if I don't know then I can just ride and have fun. Second, there's just no quitting in a p-to-p. If you're out in the middle of nowhere 20 miles from a town, you still have to go 20 miles to that town. In a 24 It's too easy to quit when the going gets hard. All you have to do is finish out the lap and stop. Not being able to quit makes me work through tough periods in the race and keep rolling. I end up enjoying it more. Finally, I don't pass or get passed constantly on a p-to-p. In a 24 you're always either coming up on someone (rare for me) or having to get over for someone else. It breaks my momentum and makes me feel like I'm going nowhere.

Which brings me to my next topic:

The Endurosnob Epic
Finally, a point to point race. 300 miles of gravel and dirt roads. There are some great photos on the Snob's blog. This sort of terrain really makes me want to get out and ride. Just, what, seven weeks to go? I'd better get rolling. And you'd better sign up. The deadline is October 15th and we need some more people to make this race go. Nick? Cory? Paul? get on it.


TOBASCO
In order to prepare for the Epic, I am planning my own training/fun ride on Saturday, October 8th. I am tentatively calling it the Tour of Boone and Story Counties or TOBASCO (despite the fact that it touches Marshall and pokes into Hamilton Counties and there is no hot sauce involved). Here is the tentative route.

Everyone is invited, but bring both your cruising and climbing gears. The ride will start at perhaps 4am at Ledges State park and finish when it finishes. I figure we'll start in the dark so we don't finsh too much after dark. Perhaps there'll be grilling opportunities afterwards.

I will be checking out portions of the route this Saturday and Sunday to make sure they are actually there. Most of this route I have ridden before, but some parts are new territory. Check out the elevation maps! I've saved the best for last.

The Arrowhead is on!
I'm all signed up for the Arrowhead Ultra again this year. Hopefully I'll make it in. There's a 50 rider limit and those 50 will be determined based on a ride/training resume. I think this is the first time I've had to turn in a resume. And for a race no less. I hope to get some extremely slow riding in this December and January to prepare for the inevitable pace of the race.

Books
Since I last wrote I've read one book twice, Wendell Berry's novel, Jayber Crow. This is a break from my usual routine. I usually read a book and then quickly move on to the next, but this one caught my attention so much that I had to read it again. This is certainly the best book I've read in the past couple of years and perhaps the best book I've ever read. I won't say too much about it since I can't do it justice, just read it yourself.

The elves have been lazy.

Not much time. I'm at work so here it goes.

I have a new (old) bike. An old Schwinn that I'm turning into a Grant Peterson bike. Cotton bar tape and eventually a Brooks saddle. Looks nice.

50 mile ride with Cory last weekend. Lots of nice B roads. The pictures don't do it justice.

Thinking about putting on a 15o+ mile ride in October. You'll probably need lights.

24 hour race in Boone this weekend. I signed up. Now I've got to do it. How to get motivated?

Books I've been reading:
Harlan Ellison, various short stories. More to say on this later.
F. Paul Wilson, The Keep. Dracula vs. the Nazis. What more can I say.
Edward Abbey, The Monkey Wrench Gang. A nice fantasy.

Stealing the internet

I went for a gravel ride Sunday. I used the route that I'd planned on using a few weeks ago, but a little more successfully. Nick and I left at about 11 Sunday morning and began our leisurely tour of the Dragoon Trail in Boone County.

It was warm and hazy for the first 25 miles or so, but as we climbed up from the Wagon Wheel bridge we started to hear thunder and feel the drops. From there until we finished at about 7 it was nothing but rain. The rain wasn't too bad, goodness knows I'm used to it, but it stung a little on the downhills when I got going fast and I couldn't see too well. Speaking of stung, around mile 23 or so I was stung by some sort of insect that got caught in my beard. It hurt, but what more can I say about that.

After an hour or so of heavy downpour the gravel started getting soupy. I could tell when I was getting into the soft stuff because my tires would start to roar like there was an old truck coming up from behind. That and I'd slow way down. Around mile 40 the gravel got so bad that I was in my 34x25 low gear and struggling on the flats.

I always look forward to the Y Camp hill (mile 46) on 166th Ave because it's the steepest toughest thing around, but it was too much this time. Things were going pretty well most of the way up, but just as I could see the big willow at the top a car came up from behind and I moved over to make some room. The soft gravel at the side of the road did me in. I walked the last 100 yards or so. Nick, coming up from behind, saw me walking and gave up himself. I probably would have done the same. We took a long break at the top and ate my emergency Power Bar to try and recover. That's the first time I've been defeated by that hill. I vow revenge.

By mile 55 or so we were both spent. The hills and the soft gravel were too much. Nick was having to stop every mile or so to rest, and truth be told, I wasn't doing much better (not that I'd admit it). With about 8 miles to go we hopped on the paved road back to Ames. It was amazing how my bike, even with knobbies on, seemed to pedal itself down the road. A huge relief from the mushy gravel (worse than the gravel on TI2, good thing there weren't any B roads). Roadies have it too easy, I say.

Quick Links:
I'm trying to add some links in my text to make this blog more accessible to those who don't know what I'm talking about. Here are some extras.

Confrontation isn't my style. This seems more like it. Nice bike Lindsay.

I won't be making the GTDRI this weekend. Unfortunately I'll be working. I guess someone has to.

Moving

I've had a busy couple of weeks. Nine Mile, visiting family in Michigan, and moving have all kept me from blogging as I ought. Where to start?

Moving has been an experience. I'm moving most of my stuff by bike and since I don't have to be out of my old place right away I'm taking my time. So far I've moved most of my clothes and about half of my books. I'm trying to get organized and get rid of excess stuff at the same time. We'll see how that goes

The new place will not have a TV, internet, or a telephone (my choice) so I'll be more out of touch than ever. I hope to continue my blogging at work and at the library, but since most of my thinking is done at night I'm not sure how that'll work out. I might find myself a computer to use as a glorified typewriter and write out entries at night and then upload them the next morning at work.

Since my roommate and I agree on sparing use of A/C and he has even later nights than I, it seems as though I'm back in the dorms. The humidity, late nights alone, lack of worries about waking anyone up, and the insular environment are similar to those times I spent pacing back and forth sporadically listening to music, thinking, and reading in my college days. I kind of like it and I feel as though I could sink back into that sort of vague existential mood I embraced back then. I think that might be a mistake though. I should really be getting out and doing things, becoming more active, rather than staring at walls for hours on end. I'm older than I used to be and don't feel like wasting my life all over again.

Please excuse any misspellings. The spellchecker is down.

24 Hours of Excuses

Oi, Nine Mile wasn't what I'd hoped it would be. Despite my moderate ranking, I'm pretty disappointed with my performance. No one to blame but myself though. Here's the run down.

The course wasn't what I was expecting. I had heard that it was fast and not too technical, but I didn't really know what I was getting into. I guess it's where I live, but I have always felt that a mountain bike course is defined by the climbs. Instead of being hilly though the course was virtually flat. There were a few climbs, but they were all middle chainring stuff, nothing you had to gear down and grind up. I also expect tight singletrack with switchbacks heading up the climbs. Instead the course was rolling open double track for about 2/3 of it's length. Actually this part of the course was kind of fun and made me wish I had brought my cross bike.

The other third of the course was tight twisting singletrack that seemed to go nowhere. While the course was flat it was also bumpy in these parts. I'm not used to tight and flat and combined with the bumps there was just no way I could conserve momentum. Some people really seemed to fly through these parts, but I just couldn't do it.

The biggest problem on the singletrack though were the rock gardens. There were more rocks on that course than in the whole of Iowa, it seemed. I've never ridden anything like it and I didn't know how to pick lines or keep my momentum up through these sections. I got the impression though that rocks like this, or worse, are par for mountain bike courses in much of the country. Most people seemed to handle them well and flow right over and through these sections.

On the open sections my endurance training came in handy and I'd pass a lot of people who were struggling while I was barely pushing the pedals, but as soon as we got to the singletrack my weakness showed and all of the people I had passed and more caught and passed me. It was frustrating yo-yoing back and forth like that. I felt like I should be more consistent, like I was going too hard on the doubletrack, but I never felt like I was working too hard or even breathing hard. I even saw some people climbing short hills in their lowest gear and having trouble, I don't get it. Am I a good rider or not. I couldn't figure it out.

All the tedious singletrack wore on me pretty quick. By lap four I was starting to dread those sections. I had forgotten commandment one of endurance racing: ride your own race. If I had been thinking straight I would have said to myself, "just walk the parts you can't ride and don't worry about everyone else," but I didn't. I became annoyed with myself for not being able to ride what I figured were easy singletrack and rock sections. I guess I considered them easy because I wasn't busting a lung out there. I never had to catch my breath or felt my legs burning. It wasn't mountain biking the way I know it.

On lap five I had a hard crash transitioning from the singletrack to the road. I caught my crank on some dirt and was launched over the handlebars. I landed squarely on my chest. For a second I thought I had knocked the wind out of myself, but I hadn't. I grabbed the bike and pulled it off the course and started to get a serious head rush. I felt dizzy, my head hurt, and I heard buzzing in my ears. I had to sit down. I knew I couldn't ride that way. I began to wish that I had hurt myself worse so that I could drop out of the race. I knew the damage wasn't that bad though. It would just be an excuse. After a few minutes my head cleared and I started to ride again. My head wasn't in it anymore though. I felt tired, not physically, but mentally. I wanted to quit.

I finished out the lap and started another, but noticed that when I started to breathe heavily my chest hurt. I also started to feel sleepy. That was enough for me. After the end of lap six I went back to my camp. I figured that I would rest for a while and see if I felt better later, but I really didn't expect to. I went and chatted with Kyle and Ron from Irwin's and then decided to go to bed. I knew that I shouldn't have quit, but by that time it was dark and I was dreading riding the rocks in the dark. I kept picturing myself falling and breaking an arm or something. Looking back it wouldn't have been a problem if I had ridden my own race and just walked when I felt like it. I couldn't sleep and my body wasn't tired or sore, but my mind didn't want to race anymore.

I finally fell asleep with the thought that once it was light I'd get in a final lap or two, but the weather had other plans. At about 5:30 in the morning the storms started again. The wind wasn't as bad as the previous night, but the rain and lightning were worse. Again I thought of riding on slippery rocks, falling, and breaking an arm. I got up and walked around for a while, took a shower, and called it quits. It turns out that after a bit of a fiasco with delays and restarts the race was called at 5:30. I couldn't have gotten those last few laps in anyway.

If there's anything I've learned from this race it's to not pay attention to perceptions of what I should be doing and focus on what I can and am doing. In my first 24 hour race I couldn't ride large chunks of the course, but that didn't deter me. I just swallowed my pride and walked up those hills. If I had done the same thing at Nine Mile I would have gotten in probably four more laps without much trouble. Looking back my lap times weren't that bad. If I had continued at that pace, or even a little slower I would have been fine. As it was I did 80 miles in 10 hours with no physical exhaustion or soreness. That is at least some sort of accomplishment.

It was worth going up just to see everybody from my previous races. Endurosnob, Paddy, Simmons, and Kerkove from Trans Iowa, Charlie Farrow from the Arrowhead and more whose names elude me just now. It was good to go to a race of almost 900 people and still feel like I was known and welcomed. Maybe I'll give it another shot next year

For now I'll just have to look forward to the 24 at Seven Oaks. Now that's a course I can get into. Climbs like you wouldn't believe. Bring your granny ring and your good set of lungs. If you're looking for a good small 24 I can't recommend it enough.

As to that riser stem, Paddy, I love it. It is part of the solution to hand numbness problems I'd had on other 24s. That along with the Ergon grips kept my hands feeling great all ride. I even rode the first four laps without gloves (I'd meant to wear them, but I forgot and didn't want to stop) and felt great. Yeah, it looks funny, but so do I.

Almost ready...I think.

The bike is good to go. I installed a new rear derailleur, chain, and shifters today, all SRAM. No bell though. I couldn't find one I liked. The bike is cleaner than it's been in years (not saying much) and everything has been inspected. Nothing could possibly go wrong...Right?

The clothes are in the washer and I'm starting to get all my gear together. Now I just need to stock up on some food, drink, and chamois cream. Anything else I'm forgetting?

I think I might make my goal for the race 200 miles. I don't really know if that's reasonable or not. I'd have to do 15 laps at an average speed of just over 8 mph. Seems slow I know, but I'm a pretty slow mountain biker. Actually, after some thought that's about twice as fast as I did the Arrowhead (with sleep) or 2/3 of my Dirty Kanza speed. Maybe I can do it if the course is willing.

In literature:
I returned a book to the library unfinished today. Thomas Pynchon's V. wasn't doing it for me. It seemed too much like something assigned in a high school lit class. Well written to be sure, but I just couldn't connect with it. 100 pages in and nothing but party hopping.

Something I often look for in a book is that I can empathize with what is going on. I couldn't do that with this book. I didn't see any of myself in it. Now, a good book can make the alien seem familiar or the familiar seem alien and I can respect that, but this was just keeping the alien alien to me. Besides, the symbolism was a little bit heavy and that always gets me.

I decided to try the book because one of the blurbs on the cover of a Phillip K. Dick book I was reading called Dick a "poor man's Pynchon." Well, why not try the rich man's Pynchon I thought. I returned it and checked out another Dick novel.

Nat'l Champ? No.

I've got my ride up to 9 Mile all set up. I'll be RVing in style with some guys from Irwin's in DSM. The trade off is I have to be willing to go to quilting shops with the support crew/drivers. I'm doing the solo thing, but I won't be Nat'l Champ material. I didn't want to pay for a license and heck, I know I don't have a chance anyway so I'm just a "solo freak." I'm still thinking about bringing up the 1x1 just in case, but I really think I'll ride the Rocket 88. I've got some new SRAM X7 and X9 stuff for it and I can't let that go to waste. Is it okay to do major parts overhauls days before a big race? I thought not.

Actually this isn't really a big race for me. I'm going to take it pretty easy. I think I'm going to focus more on the point-to-point endurance stuff rather than the 12 and 24 scene. My real goal is seeing how long I can make it before sacking out. I'd like to do the whole 24 without sleep, but based on past experience 2am is the latest I can make it without a nap.

I'm not really into the 24 thing. Something about crowds and going around in circles. Seriously though, the crowds do scare me and the partying. I don't know if I want to be on the trail with that many hooligans (and I mean that in the best possible way Dave). I probably should have done the Laramie Enduro. I've always wanted to go to Laramie and 70 miles of mountainbikeing seems like a good excuse. Oh, well. Next year.

Non-bike stuff: My friend Pinky challenged me to write a short story and so I did. We settled on a Sci-Fi time travel theme. It's pretty short. Maybe a page or two. It's not ready for the public yet though so you'll all have to wait before you see it...Maybe a long time.

Movie Reviews

I've seen more than my share of movies in the last few weeks as well. Here are some one minute reviews.

Superman:
It's a Superman movie. What did you expect? It's got all the essentials: Lois Lane, Lex Luthor, kryptonite, etc.. The new actor looks too much like Christopher Reeves. The whole 'son of Superman' thing doesn't work. Pretty thin really. And let me get this straight. Superman can get stabbed with a shard of kryptonite, almost die, barely be able to stand, then suck it up and still save the world by lifting a continent into space? I want a refund on my kryptonite. It just doesn't hurt Kryptonians like it used to.

Pirates of the Caribbean 2:
Not too bad. At some point the love story got lost (as though anyone was paying attention) and it turned into a vehicle for action (well, I guess that's no surprise). Good effects, some great sequences, but it doesn't hang together like the first one. Some action sequences seemed to last forever. The film was about 30 minutes too long. I'll see #3, but probably on videotape like I saw Star Wars Episode 3.

The Aristocrats:
A film about a joke that isn't funny. I know that no one will listen to me, but this is a pretty worthless documentary. I know you'll go out and see it anyway, I guess you have to, but the film has little redeeming value. It is disturbing and gross at the best of times and pretty boring most others. The high point of this film is Gilbert Gottfried. Enough said. See it anyway.

A Scanner Darkly:
I just saw this one tonight so I haven't had time to wax pessimistic about it. Good film. A good examination of drug addiction and drug culture. It delves deeply into realms of paranoia and helplessness, using others and being used. From what little I know of the addicted personality this seems to be accurate. At times we can laugh at the absurd actions of the characters, but at others we have to cringe at their logic and rationality in irrational situations. I like the cringing. It also goes into drug rehabilitation and recovery though not as much as I would have liked. This is a topic that has deep interest to me. So yeah, see it. It's some of Phillip K. Dick's best writing adapted for the screen. I'll have to read the book now, though I wish I had read it before seeing the film.

Updates

Gravel Grinder:
Two weeks ago I did a gravel ride with Eric. It was a hot day and neither of us were really prepared. It was Eric's first gravel ride and with a new bike to boot. I decided to really put the hurt to him and plotted a tough hilly route through the Des Moines river valley. By about mile 32 the hills had been enough for Eric and I wasn't feeling too good either. We turned around, headed into Boone, ate some sliced turkey and rode back to Ames. Not a bad ride, but we'll do better next time. We were chased by only one dog. A big disappointment there.

Bob Roll just said "Bougie."
What can I say. I've been watching the Tour these past few weeks and that has kept me from writing as I should. Now it's over and hopefully things can get back to normal.

Lantern Rouge:
That's French for dead last. That's how I did in the Iowa Games this year. In the time trial I was last in my age group and missed my goal of 30 minutes for the 20k race. The mountain bike race was indefinitely postponed. Then there was the road race. To make a long story short I was dropped by the peloton after about 5 miles and had to ride the rest of the 52 mile race alone and way off the back. At the feed zone (where I had no one to feed me) at mile 26 someone yelled, "nice effort." Great. Just what I wanted to hear. With about 10 miles left to go the race director's van started following me down the road pulling up race signs and markings. As soon as I crossed the finish line they pulled it up off the road. Demoralizing. I hope that 9 mile isn't so bad.

Crosscheck Challenge

Here's tomorrow's route for all of you following from home. Lots of hills, mostly gravel. Start at 1:00pm, my house. End at Stomping Grounds sometime before dark. What else you want?

Dog Gone Ride this weekend

Just a quick post today. Sunday is looking good for a gravel grinder. I'm thinking about doing a route that I did before TI where I was chased by, at least, 30 dogs. Up to 5 at a time. It'll probably be better with a group. Lots of hills and I might throw in an extra section down by Ledges just for fun. Eric and Nick are coming for sure, I think Cory knows about it, but everybody's welcome (sorry I didn't get in touch with you last weekend Paul). I wanted to write more, but, you see, there was this bike race on TV that I just had to watch.

It's the Pits for me.

I felt pretty awful today so it's a good thing that Eric and Cory showed up and dragged me off of the couch for a ride. I had woken up early for work, not eaten, drank a beer after work, and all I really wanted to do is sleep. I was really hoping that no one would show and I could just go on sleeping.

Originally the plan was to ride at Seven Oaks, but the clay soil out there is notorious for slippery footing after rain. Plan B was a gravel ride, but that didn't sound too exciting so we compromised on a ride out to Peterson Pits. We pushed pretty hard going out and gave Eric a taste of gravel riding. None of us were really set up for gravel. Eric was on his single speed and Cory and I were on full suspension bikes.

Once we got out to the pits we previewed the Iowa Games race course. Much of the time we rode at speed, but after a while we mellowed out and just rode. My bike was acting as a stick magnet and as soon as I got one out of the derailleur another got caught. I think my shifting is a little off now, hopefully I can get it taken care of when my SRAM X-7 stuff shows. Horses had torn up the trail pretty badly and I'm not sure whether having suspension was a help or a hindrance. With all the little bumps it seemed like the suspension was always active and dragging me back. I think I would have been happier on a rigid bike using my legs and arms for suspension. Probably I need to get a rear shock with adjustable rebound, but I'm too cheap.

As we were headed south along the river I tried to hop over a log and crashed. My first thought was that I had fallen poorly and landed on my hands which is a mistake, a good way to break a wrist. Then, seeing that my wrist was okay, I checked my knee which had hit pretty hard, but it seemed okay. I got up and started riding again only to realize a little further down the trail that my right leg near the Achilles tendon was pretty scraped up. I stopped a bit further on and had a look at it. It was ugly. It looked like someone had taken a potato peeler to the back of my leg and ankle. There was a four inch "peel" of skin hanging off.

I don't usually carry a first aid kit with me while riding. I've never had an injury that I felt needed attention. I figure the injuries I'm really worried about are broken bones and there isn't really much I can do with a first aid kit for that. This is the first time I've wanted something. It wasn't a serious injury, but it looked bad and I wanted a bandage to cover it up. Pretty much all I could do was remove the flap of skin and keep riding.

After that we decided to head back home. It was a pretty short ride overall. A little under 3 hours, but it was good to get out and stretch the legs. It made me feel a lot better overall. The ankle injury isn't too bad. It just looks like someone painted a red stripe on the back of my leg.

Does this mean Hushovd will win?

The satellite TV is working better today so I've been watching the Tour. The Tour isn't really all that exciting at this point. I'm more enjoying the sight of bicycles on television. All this doping controversy along with that one guy who won like seven times or something has got me thinking though.

I think that the prevalence of the "who wants it more" attitude has made doping inevitable. The person who wants it more is obviously the one who cheats. Of course the race isn't really about who wants it more. It is about who is the best cyclist. I'd bet that the guy in second wants to win as much as (or more than) the guy in first. However, the person who wants it more might be willing to do something a little underhanded to get the win. I guess that's pretty obvious, but at the top levels everyone want to win so much that cheating is an unsurprising result.

I'm glad that I don't care about winning that much. I think that's why I go in for the endurance events. The race is as much against myself as it is against anyone else. Especially in the point-to-point races or extreme conditions races it is just a challenge to finish. When I signed up for the Arrowhead race all I wanted to do was finish. I was really pleased with my result, but mostly I'm glad I finished. In a way I'm glad that I didn't manage to finish Trans-Iowa because that makes finishing the others more meaningful. I'm not testing myself if I succeed every time. What's the point of cheating when the only one who cares is you and you'll be happy just making it to the finish line.

Another phenomena that I've noticed is that of the comeback from injury and eventual triumph. Think of LeMond after his shotgun wound, or diver Greg Lougainis after hitting his head on the board in the Olympics, not to mention that one guy with cancer. I can think of other examples from people I know. The formula seems to be: be close to the top of your game, get hurt, recover and gain sympathy, come back and win.

It's possible that it's just a fluke, that for every miraculous recovery there are dozens of normal wins, or maybe it's just that at the top of any sport you're almost guaranteed to get hurt at some time (okay, this doesn't work for LeMond or Armstrong, but it might apply to many others who suffer from sport related injury, think of mogul skiers and knee surgeries). It seems to apply in other walks of life too. Almost die climbing a mountain, become successful in business. Recover from alcoholism and become president.

Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger...right? I don't think so. I've seen too many contrary examples. I think people just like a good story. In any case please don't push me down the stairs and think you're doing me a favor.

Rained out at Seven Oaks

Well, I did that Seven Oaks ride I was talking about, but it didn't turn out the way I'd planned. I rode out Saturday at about 4pm and got there with plenty of time to spare. The wind was pretty strong out of the west so I had to gear down on the gravel. I was only chased by one dog so I'd consider that a success.

Once I got there I set up my hammock to hold my campsite and went out on the trail. There were a surprising number of campers there (probably because of the holiday and free camping), but none of them looked like cyclists. I had really hoped to have the place to myself, but I should have known better. The trail was in good shape, dry and packed, and I was able to clean some sections that I hadn't been able to ride before. Four dabs and three dismounts for the first lap. I'm slowly becoming a better technical rider. After the first lap I laid down in my hammock and rested for a while. After about half an hour of rest I went out for a second lap. I did better as far as dabs go, I don't think I had any, but I dismounted four times and one of those was over the handlebars. I still can't get the hang of those downhill switchbacks.

After that I made some mac & cheese, tried a yogurt granola bar (pretty good, thanks Amy) and laid down for some more rest. It was tough to relax the way I'd wanted to with the other campers though. They had some bad music blaring, kids crying, 4x4 pickups revving, and other general noisiness. A little before dark the races started up at the Boone raceway to add to the general hubbub. Did I mention that you can hear Hwy 30 and the railroad tracks well too? I think I should have opted to ride into one of the harder to access campsites down in the woods. It would have been a lot quieter, but I would have had more insect problems.

Just after dark I started to hear thunder, I hoped it would pass me by, but it just kept getting closer. I got up and rigged my tarp over top of the hammock and hoped for the best. Shortly thereafter it started to rain. I hoped it would be one of those quick rainshowers, but I wasn't in luck. The storm lasted all night. At first I stayed pretty dry, but then I started to get splashed and the longer it lasted and the harder it rained the wetter I got. I started to get cold and though I knew I wasn't in any life threatening danger I knew I wouldn't get much sleep if I didn't warm up. I hadn't brought a sleeping bag since I hadn't counted on getting cold, but I had brought my emergency blanket. You know, one of those Mylar sheets. I've used them before and they aren't too bad, but they don't breathe at all. So I had to choose, damp and cold, or soaked and warm. I chose soaked and warm.

I could feel water trickling down my body and insects crawling all over me, but I was too tired and uncomfortable to do anything about it. At least the thunder and rain cut down on the disruptive noise. I put up with it until morning when I decided I'd had enough and got up to make some breakfast. I've had some pretty miserable nights out and this wasn't the worst, but it definitely ranks as "miserable." I pulled quite a few bugs out of my gear, including two grasshoppers and a spider out of my helmet. After making some more mac & cheese I decided to pack it in.

I had planned to stick around for the IORCA State Championships today, but I thought that with the rain and so on the race would be cancelled and I didn't want to spend $30 to ride (if you can call it riding) on a muddy course. I rode home through Boone on the pavement in the rain and had to wait for a long train at Jordan, but I got home pretty quick anyway. I was home by 8:40. I hung up my wet things, showered, and took a nap to make up for the restless night.

So yeah, I guess I had a good time. Hopefully the trail will dry out by Tuesday for Cory and I and anyone else who'll be joining us (Paul? Eric? Nick?). I'll have to rethink my packing list for ultralight camping though. I don't really care to be that miserable on a longer trip.

Update: it seems that the championships were not cancelled. Oh well. I'm a slow XC rider anyway. I'm trying to watch the Tour on OLN, but our satellite reception is horrendous. Sometimes I can tell they're on bikes but most of the time it's colored squares and "Geo...capie...Pelo...eak awa..." and so on.