tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252739952600122402024-03-05T13:51:43.891-08:00Mellow yellowRando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.comBlogger102125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-63760132115716379672017-04-08T07:38:00.002-07:002017-04-08T07:38:33.246-07:00Luna Bars - For Women Only?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The question I'm often asked by riders new to longer events is what do you eat? How do you get enough calories to sustain your body for all day and multi day long rides? </div>
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The truth is I believe most people take in many more calories than is needed on these rides. At the moderate pace maintained over long distance by most Randonneurs it is possible to burn a high percentage of stored body fat in relationship to carbohydrate intake. The carbs are the flame and the fat is the fuel. So the question remaining is how many carbs does it take to keep one going? My answer is very little! On average I can get by with about 100 calories per hour, or less. </div>
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Typically, I eat a 200 calorie item between controls of 35 to 50 miles. There are many pocket food items that work out to about that calorie content. Snickers Bars, which are available at any convenience store, fit the bill. Though, it is important to take in a small amount of protein with the carbs for proper absorption. Failure to do so will cause your body to cannibalize the protein from your muscles. The Snickers Bars, and other reasonable sports energy bars, have enough protein to get the job done. </div>
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As for the energy bar category I always have a couple in my back pocket. My bar of choice for many years was the<i> Clif Bar.</i> Typically, I eat everything on a ride while pedaling my bike. I found the <i>Clif Bars</i> stored well in the jersey pocket and could be opened and consumed while riding. These are a very efficient food choice, but somewhat lacking in enjoyment. I never remember savoring them, no matter what flavor I was carrying. None the less, I continued to purchase them by the box. </div>
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One day while perusing the shelves of the market for interesting<i> Clif Bar</i> flavors I came across<i> Luna Bars</i>. These were made by <i>Clif</i>, but were marketed as women's specific nutrition. I wondered what could really be different about a bar meant to be consumed by women. It was slightly lower in calorie then the men's product by a very small amount. The shape of the packaging was a bit different too. And, the flavors looked much more interesting. Like; <i>Caramel Walnut Brownie, Chocolate Dipped Coconut, Peanut Butter Dark Chocolate Chunk, Lemon Zest, Blueberry Bliss, Iced Oatmeal Raisin</i> and <i>Honey Salted Peanut</i> for starters. There are more. I purchased a half dozen of these bars in the flavors I found most interesting. I would try them the next time out. </div>
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I reached for that first bar tearing open the package with my teeth while riding down the road. The first bite of the <i>Dark Chocolate Hazelnut</i> was really a different experience. The texture was easier to consume and more enjoyable than the highly compressed <i>Clif Bars</i>. And, the flavors really came alive, actually stimulating the taste buds. I quickly ate the whole bar. It was a much more enjoyable experience than other bars I've tried. More on par with the enjoyment level of the sugary candy bars, though this product contained far less sugar. Which, in my opinion, is a good thing. Especially, if the bars are consumed as food while not exercising. Which I do when I'm busy working. </div>
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Since then I've been only buying the Luna Bars and have not touched a<i> Clif Bar</i>. I've really sort of forgotten that they were meant for women. They work well for me so I buy them and consume them. Possibly they will work for you as well. One doesn't have to be any particular gender to enjoy a well designed and tasty energy bar. </div>
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See you on the roads.</div>
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<b><i>Joe Kratovil is a Randonneur and Ultra Distance Rider. In the pursuit of these activities he has logged over 120,000 road miles. </i></b></div>
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Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-57941592732004026262017-03-05T07:04:00.000-08:002017-03-05T12:19:16.924-08:00Specialized Roubaix - Is Smoother Faster?<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b><i>The New Roubaix upfitted with 32mm tubeless tires plays well on unpaved</i></b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Product Review of New Specialized Roubaix</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I confess to being a long time fan of Specialized Bicycle Company products. I've ridden their bikes since 2007 and have used much of their rider gear with good success. In 2012 I began working at a bike shop that carried the line exclusively. It was an immersion into a culture where new technology was constantly being developed. It was exciting to see new innovations come into production. Not only bikes but rider gear as well. Much of the new tech stuff was going to the mountain bike genre as that style of riding seemed to benefit the most from improvements in suspension, braking systems, and tires. None the less, the road side was not ignored as Shimano's Di2 Electronic Shifting became available on some of the higher end bikes. Later disc brakes, including fully hydraulic systems, began appearing on road bikes as well. Both these products were controversial among roadies at first, but would eventually be accepted and acknowledged as improvements. This may have been partially due to the growing interest in gravel and mixed surface riding. Not to forget the popularity of Cyclo-Cross, which benefited greatly from much of this technology. What followed were continual further improvements of shifting and braking systems to the point where these can now be considered highly refined. Through axles, which were found to work best with disc brakes, found their way from Mountain to Cyclo-Cross and are slowly being introduced to Road Bikes, especially those designated for adventure or endurance. Someone was destined to find a way to utilize this technology by packaging it into something entirely new. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Specialized answered the call with the development of the all new Roubaix, an endurance road bike. They added some of their own innovations such as the Future Shock (headset suspension), Cobble Gobbler (seat post), and Hover Bar (road riser bar) to a newly designed carbon frame. The final touches like Shimano hydraulic disc brakes, Ultegra components, available with electronic shifting, SWAT box storage compartment, clearance for 32mm tires, tubeless ready rims, and through axles made for quite a package. The Specialized mantra for the Roubaix, even on the older versions, is Smoother is Faster. This comes from their history of racing at the famous Paris-Roubaix over the roughly cobbled roads in France. To which their namesake model has taken some wins. A decal on the top tube in view of the rider serves as a reminder, </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I rode over 1,000 miles split over two new Roubaix models, one with electronic shifting and one without. The first one I tested was a brand new bike designated to be a demo model for<i> Pete's Bike Shop. </i> It was a Roubaix Expert with full Ultegra 11 (mechanical) and Shimano Hydraulic disc brakes. I was asked to try it on some rides up to 200k. What follows is my personal experience. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>First Rides</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It came out of the box with 26mm tires, though there was clearance for 32mm. I took a few short rides on the stock set up. The bike felt pretty amazing. Even with the 26mm pressured to 90 psi it was the smoothest riding road bike I'd ever been on. The shock inside the headset, which Specialized calls the "Future Shock", really took out roughness and vibration from the front of the bike. Paired with the GCR seat post's lower seat clamp and elongated diameter seat tube above the clamp the ride was pretty cushy from the rear. While riders alongside would comment on noticeable fore-aft movement of the carbon seat post I only felt smoothness. The up and down movement of the handlebars was also noticeable by anyone watching from alongside. Again, my perception was just smoothness. The concept that's employed is to suspend the rider instead of using more traditional methods. Specialized chose this approach because other suspension options, including increased frame / fork compliance, have been proven to reduce speed and power transfer. This Roubaix features a stiffer frame and fork from prior versions yet is more comfortable to ride.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Making a few Changes</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Before moving on to the 100k and 200k distance I changed out the tires for Specialized 30/32 Roubaix Pros and experimented with tire pressures in an attempt to find the optimum balance between comfort and performance. I also changed out the CGR seat post for a Specialized Carbon post with a two bolt clamp instead of the single side bolt on the Gobbler. I was having problems with my saddle shifting while riding. I was betting that running wide tires negated the need for the added suspension from the post. I would still have the fore-aft movement of the standard post due to the clamp and seat tube design. I was confident that with the cushier tire I would not notice a difference. I felt ready for the first 100k. I purposely chose a route with lots of pavement flaws and even found a few miles of unpaved surface as the icing on the cake. The bike took it all in stride. I'd become accustomed to standing and gliding over rough pavement, or dodging around the imperfections whenever possible. The realization that this was not necessary took awhile to set in. Keeping power on through rough patches of road has appeal, And, tends to support the <i>Smoother is Faster</i> philosophy. Late in the ride I transitioned onto the unpaved section with growing confidence in this bike. It seemed right at home with the looser surface. For the first time in as long as I could remember I was having fun on a dirt road. At the end of the 100k, which actually was a little long at 70 miles, I was loving life and the new Roubaix.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Moving on to 200k</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Less than a week later I was set to ride a 200k. Still fiddling with tire pressure I started out at a meager 35 psi. Simple reason dictated this had to be at, or below, the lower limit. Things were going well until I hit a metal object which cut the tire and left me with my first flat. With a boot over the cut my friend Brandon and I continued the route knowing there was a bike shop along the way about 10 miles further. We procured a new Panaracer 32mm tire and a new tube. I kept both in my backpack as a spare opting to continue on the booted tire for as long as possible. I was enjoying the bike as much as the earlier rides for the next 40 miles when I got a puncture on the rear tire again. We changed it out with the new Panaracer using the new tube I purchased as well. It was a simple puncture not related to the prior cut. Once underway we had a rather lengthily discussion about switching over to a tubeless set up which would have at least prevented one of the two flats. Overall, the bike was fine on the 200k despite the unfortunate flats. A subsequent 200k with a large group of riders went quite well using 40 psi in the tires. I had zero flats.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The next test was an all unpaved 100k ride on the D & R Canal. We rode from Princeton, NJ to Lumberville, PA and back. I used the same tires that were on the bike pressured to 40 psi. This resulted in good ride quality and zero flats. I found myself really enjoying this style of riding and began to see the allure of gravel and mixed surface events. While there are bikes that are more specifically designed for this purpose the Roubaix would surely get the job done in fine style. This versatility brings added appeal. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b><i>The New Roubaix Expert with Ultegra 11 </i></b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Climbing on the New Roubaix</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Before turning this bike back in I did one more 100k ride on a route with some good size climbs. I was used to a Tarmac Pro which is a very good climbing bike and quite light at just under 16 lbs. The Roubaix weighed in at 19 lbs out of the box, which is good for a disc brake bike, but I wondered how it would compare. I was pleased to learn that it is a competent climber, but a bit different. The Roubaix features a compact double with a large cog of 32T on the rear. I was used to bigger gearing, so I didn't think I would use the 32. I was surprised to find myself in it on sizable hills. I was using higher cadence than I normally do and found that difference enjoyable. Initially, standing climbing feels a bit odd due to the slight movement of the Future Shock. In time one adapts and the movement is no longer noticed.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b><i>Future Shock headset suspension with 20mm of travel</i></b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Descending. Wow!!!</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The one area where the Roubaix hands down shines is descending. The suspension and disc brakes combine to give the rider unparalleled confidence. It tracks straight and true, soaks up road imperfections like they are not even there, and brakes effectively with one finger gently pulling the lever. It's possible to let it go completely, then reign it in with little effort. The bikes superior descending advances the case for <i>Smoother is Faster.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Upgrading to Di2 and Tubless Tires</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I turned the mechanical shifting Roubaix over to another store employee for further testing. A few days later a box arrived from Specialized containing a brand new Roubaix Expert UDi2 painted in Neon Yellow / Monster Green. The color was in huge contrast to the Flat Black of my former demo Roubaix and would require a little getting used to. During assembly we changed out the stock tires for 32mm Panaracers and set them up tubeless. The DT Swiss 2Bliss ready rims worked perfectly sealing the tires up with minimal effort. My first ride would be with 40 PSI, which turns out to be the ideal pressure for a rider of my weight (164 lbs). I did many rides from 20 mile commutes to 130 miles on this bike with excellent results. I've committed to ride it for a minimum of one year. I look forward to some challenging rides on this machine during the brevet season when fitness is at a higher level. If there is a conclusive way to prove <i>Smoother is Faster </i>I hope to find it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Rando Ready?</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The question I expect from rando friends is: if the bike is suitable for our style of riding? For me personally the answer is a solid YES! The big stopper for many of the brevet crowd will be no easy fender solution or rack mounts. This bike will suit those who want a comfortable bike for multiple purposes. It will be fast, fun and comfortable on brevets even though non-conforming to traditions. Also, it will work well for many other styles of riding.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">More detailed information of some of the features of the New Roubaix are detailed below.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Future Shock</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Perhaps the most unique and talked about feature of the new Roubaix is the coil spring shock located inside the headset. Specialized provides three different tensions from light to stiff for rider preferences. Installed in the bike from the factory is the medium, which I found a little too light so we switched to the stiffest one. It still worked well soaking up bumps but gave minimal movement during standing climbs. This little movement is disconcerting at first but after adapting seems unnoticeable. The use of the Future Shock allowed for a stiffer fork to be used on the bike. Extensive tests have shown that forks that flex to allow absorption of shock slow the bike during this motion. The Future Shock Isolates the rider from these forces above the headset without the speed scrubbing of other methods.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Cobble Gobbler Seat Post</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Specialzed has offered this product for awhile on some older Roubaix models and as an over the counter upgrade for any road bike for $250. It gives additional vertical compliance for shock picked up by the rear wheel. This is accomplished by a carbon spring inside the large section of the post. On the new Roubaix this is combined with an elongated upper seat tube giving the freedom of fore-aft motion for shock transferred through the frame in that manner. I could not feel the movement, but riders alongside told me it was visible. I found the CGR seat post unnecessary when running wide tires and am using a standard carbon seat post from Specialized on my Roubaix. Any carbon post clamped into the unique seat post design of the Roubaix will be more flexible than on another bike due to the lower seat clamp and larger diameter upper seat tube. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>Oversize upper seat tube allows fore-aft movement of the Carbon Seat Post</i></b></span>.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Shimano Hydraulic Disc Brakes</span></b><br />
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Without doubt the most amazing braking experience ever! This system offers one finger control of a powerful braking system. The only issue I had was road grit from a wet road kicked up into the front rotor causing a rubbing sound. I was able to clean it out quickly by squirting water from my bottle between the pads. The Shimano Brake Pads are finned for better heat distribution which keeps the system cooler on long descents with lots of braking. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsSQPahZ_qp75DOWDgoTmM9b1UAaqXWA_2hsWEgL63xfe7NJ7dDtBqYRWC71921KihsjfulYG4JdwibY7pLMAK6R3-7yIAN6vmAwMH_2UXtF8_BpxSBnUdYo6SPgUPMpsC4oeeEwWa4_U/s1600/MYDISC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsSQPahZ_qp75DOWDgoTmM9b1UAaqXWA_2hsWEgL63xfe7NJ7dDtBqYRWC71921KihsjfulYG4JdwibY7pLMAK6R3-7yIAN6vmAwMH_2UXtF8_BpxSBnUdYo6SPgUPMpsC4oeeEwWa4_U/s400/MYDISC.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b><i>Flat Mounted Calipers with Ice Tech Pads for added cooling, 160mm Front Roter</i></b></span></td></tr>
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<br />
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Thru Axles</span></b><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The best possible way to hold a wheel securely in a bike frame is to bolt it in with a Thru-Axle. This system does not allow for misalignment of the wheel to the fork or frame. The drop outs have no opening at the bottom. The axle passes through the circular drop out and the hub then screws securely into threads on the opposite side. It looks a little like a fat skewer with a threaded end. A road bike with disc brakes is best managed with a thru-axle as even slight wheel misalignment in a traditional skewer, drop out, set up can cause disc rubbing.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4NHes1Rs1sE2P2PDxMv6yRmIVA_28MoqSjpetBEOU9AS1kuI8PYUVSvJMqSMZH6vKlxmCXAYTwQKmHen3BK2rANtrzOGXo9F_Qq-aCXRF1qpG6BxH2u5JzpjnzZSmWOMpsewciep_jkc/s1600/MYThru.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4NHes1Rs1sE2P2PDxMv6yRmIVA_28MoqSjpetBEOU9AS1kuI8PYUVSvJMqSMZH6vKlxmCXAYTwQKmHen3BK2rANtrzOGXo9F_Qq-aCXRF1qpG6BxH2u5JzpjnzZSmWOMpsewciep_jkc/s400/MYThru.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b><i>Thru Axles keep wheels perfectly aligned in the frame</i></b></span></td></tr>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
<b>Hover Bar</b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This is simply a riser bar designed for a road-bike. Surprising it has not been used until now. This is standard on the New Roubaix model. It is a short reach bar with 1.5 centimeter rise from the stem. This allows for a more upright rider position without a radical change to bike geometry. With a neutral stem the drop is minimal, although this varies depending on seat height. Riders looking for an aggressive position will have difficulty achieving this without sizing down a frame size. The appearance of the bar is not off putting. It's gull wing shape has a serious, appealing look to it. It is also comfortable with a somewhat flattened top. </span><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Swat Box</span></b><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This is a storage compartment which is bolted onto the frame at the bottom bracket area. It can handle a spare tube, a C02 inflator, and a small tire lever. All the items are fastened into special holders so they don't rattle around. It has an odd look to it and somewhat takes away from the beautifully designed frame. I chose to remove it from both demo models after realizing it's position interfered with putting a dropped chain back on.</span><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Shimano Ultegra 11</span></b><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The first bike I tested had full Ultegra 11 mechanical shifting. I found the system to be very precise and effortless to use. It's a compact double with 11-32T rear cassette. The shifters were comfortable, smooth and fast. </span><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Shimano UDi2</span></b><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I really wasn't looking for an electronic shifting bike, but this is what was offered so I took the opportunity to learn the pros and cons of it. It is beautifully engineered shifting smoothly, efficiently every time with full range of the drive train. Front derailleur rub is eliminated with it's auto trim feature. The rider makes a shift on the rear cassette and the Di2 controller handles the front trim automatically. Additionally, it makes it possible for a rider to make shifts that are simply not advisable on a mechanical system. This would include dropping onto the small chain ring while standing with pressure on the pedals. I did find the shifters difficult to operate with bulky gloves. I then learned that it could be programmed to use any of the four switches for any shift function. Connecting a computer or tablet with the Shimano Di2 software loaded on it allows the user to choose many options. I wound up going with a set up that had the right side shifter controlling all shifts to larger gear ratios both front and rear, with the left side doing the opposite. It helped prevent the errant shifts with bulky gloves. On warmer days when only light gloves were needed it was easy to be spot on. </span><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Conclusion</span></b><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Hats off to Specialized for daring to bring out a bike that is so innovative and unique. Suspension has been tried on road bikes before, but never a set up as well thought out and refined as this one is. On a whole the bike should find a large following of riders looking for diversity in their next ride. Is Smoother Faster? I hope so. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">See you on the roads. </span><br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVQCQ-o0BcdqQJFFq53VlOwLqOTlWWiggV__qYWnLd73jYi4uYmH8r2AfN-zqfeHohy6sUOV7WoxznsVxRwlNmdCwDTMQCoJt6G5x5ERD_AraTA3i2h6lzs70_fQ92zpxO4ndbb6-48Vc/s1600/016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVQCQ-o0BcdqQJFFq53VlOwLqOTlWWiggV__qYWnLd73jYi4uYmH8r2AfN-zqfeHohy6sUOV7WoxznsVxRwlNmdCwDTMQCoJt6G5x5ERD_AraTA3i2h6lzs70_fQ92zpxO4ndbb6-48Vc/s200/016.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>Joe Kratovil is an employee of Pete's Bike Shop in Flemington, NJ. An Ultra Distance cyclist he has ridden over 120,000 road miles in the pursuit of these activities.</i></b></span>Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-13425528490208132972015-02-16T07:10:00.001-08:002015-02-23T03:43:36.957-08:00Florida Cross State Permanent and Reverse <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFIdvDrltobIUouvbCy6FacIJ7ie4HkV17qOTde-qOFgssvEs3HQ0l2bAL0_bEu5ytS-G4Rejv4yrbr_xqREnqIk6yWD0PX0OlH5Bgeu4V8s5J_DGA9aYgcm3FQ9RVczQQbW4hn8SbDKA/s1600/IMG_20150215_144945143_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFIdvDrltobIUouvbCy6FacIJ7ie4HkV17qOTde-qOFgssvEs3HQ0l2bAL0_bEu5ytS-G4Rejv4yrbr_xqREnqIk6yWD0PX0OlH5Bgeu4V8s5J_DGA9aYgcm3FQ9RVczQQbW4hn8SbDKA/s1600/IMG_20150215_144945143_HDR.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></i></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><b>The Florida Cracker Trail was originally a cattle trail traversing the state from Gulf Coast to Atlantic. Despite the little remaining physical evidence of the original trail the historical significance is not forgotten.</b></span></i></td></tr>
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<i> </i>While winter rages in the northeast I manage a breakaway to warmer climates for the purpose of riding as many kilometers as possible. Considerable time was spent plotting and planning how and where to get some of this riding done. First on the agenda is the Cracker Trail Permanent. This 225k, point to point, route crosses the state from coast to coast. One chooses to ride East to West or, the opposite direction. My plan is to start the ride in Bradenton, Florida on the Gulf Coast. Then ride the 140 miles to Fort Pierce on the Atlantic Coast. After an overnight stay in a hotel I reverse direction back to Bradenton accumulating 450k in the process. <br />
<br />
It's a cool 45 degrees at 7:30am on Saturday morning which is the warmest start I've enjoyed in at least two months. I'm looking at a cue sheet with about eight total lines on it for 139 miles of navigation. The entire route is on numbered roads. The first 43.6 miles are spent on Florida Route 64. A dedicated bike lane leads me out of the congested area of Bradenton. Then the road narrows to a two-lane with shoulder. The traffic is light, though vehicles do pass by quickly with a posted speed limit of 60 miles per hour. The road shoulder is smooth and the local drivers appear courteous. It doesn't take long before the area takes on a very rural, everglades, kind of look.<br />
<br />
As advertised Florida is sunny. The temperature rises twenty degrees in just a few hours. Along with it the wind picks up to the foretasted 10 to 15 mph from the NNW. The westerly component gives the wind a friendly, helpful feel. I pedal easily on the fixed-gear at 19 miles per hour while enjoying the view of ranches, farms and orchards. With the help of the wind the first turn arrives quickly. The Garmin having been silent for hours happily chirps off the two turns which is a quick zig-zag onto Florida 66. The device then goes silent awaiting the 54.8 miles to the next change of direction.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD79olWlymg4WfmH3-zWcRiN4HugaUj-xfPWtQM3ReLMHeYmj4qh8rDtt_PSpN9xdXVakZXHmBsha5m_6jhFWpHPjhiAnz5RmUOHWusvftj7G0jW5yhygV56VlXETaGaA-3aJIzxLEN-w/s1600/IMG_20150215_101213815.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD79olWlymg4WfmH3-zWcRiN4HugaUj-xfPWtQM3ReLMHeYmj4qh8rDtt_PSpN9xdXVakZXHmBsha5m_6jhFWpHPjhiAnz5RmUOHWusvftj7G0jW5yhygV56VlXETaGaA-3aJIzxLEN-w/s1600/IMG_20150215_101213815.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>A selfie on The Cracker Trail</b></i></span></td></tr>
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There is little difference between SR 64 and SR 66. They both travel the same direction, have similar road surface and scenery. What is required is the mental capacity to ride for several hours without change. There is a part of the brain dedicated to just this purpose. The body becomes robotic performing it's monotonous task while the brain is free to solve all the problems of the world. With the mind engaged I barely notice that I pass the Sebring International Speedway or that an air boat crosses under the highway with the wind from its propeller whipping the marsh reeds into a frenzy. Fortunately I do notice the Circle K convenience store control and the intersection of US27. This marks the half-way point to the ride and is the only intermediate control. <br />
<br />
After a brief pause to refresh fluids I continue on the same road, which changes name to US 98. There are 69 miles behind and the same ahead. The next planned stop is a General Store in 44 miles, although it is not a control. The miles tick-off methodically and the quaint store appropriately named The Cracker Trail Country Store approaches on the left side of the highway. I stop to re-fill fluids. Without lingering I continue the easterly trek having ridden 97 miles. <br />
<br />
In just a few miles there is a turn off from the highway onto a county road. CR-68 is narrower with no useable shoulder, but is almost totally void of traffic. The ten mile stretch on this lonely road is enjoyed. This is followed by a four mile stretch to the north on US 441. I now get to feel the effect of the wind as it hits me head on. Funny how it doesn't feel like much when it's whisking you down the road. Pushing into it is a whole other matter. The four miles seems to take forever. At its end I make the final turn towards my destination and a return to favorable winds. The final 25 miles are quickly covered on a county road. I arrive at the Flying J Travel Plaza in under 10 hours and in full daylight, There is even time enough to enjoy dinner and ride to the motel before sun-down. It was a good day.<br />
<br />
After a pleasant nights rest the trip is resumed in the opposite direction, beginning with the ride to the Travel Plaza. Again it is chilly and windy, although the wind will not be my friend today. At the early morning hour it is already brisk and predicted to reach 25mph from the northwest. Most of my journey will be to the west.<br />
<br />
Everything on the return trip is the same as the day before only slower. My only goal is to be at the finish before the sun sets. It's quite the grind compared to just one day before, but I'm determined to keep at it with minimal time off the bike.<br />
<br />
After riding non-stop for 42 miles I accidentally pass by the country store without stopping. While mentally zoning out I didn't notice it. I'm several miles past before I realize it. I only have a little fluids left in one bottle. Just a few sips. It's twenty miles to the mid-way control and quite remote in between. To make things worse it's gotten pretty warm. I'm not used to temperatures over 40 degrees. I plan to ration the little I have left by taking a sip every five miles. This will consist of three swigs starting from this point. After eight miles I've used up two of the three sips when unexpectedly I come upon a gas station on the left side of the road. It has a small store attached which appears to be open. After topping up one bottle I cover the remaining miles to the control. When I get off the bike I feel wobbly in the legs from the heat, lack of fluids, and the exertion of riding into the wind. I typically make a practice of getting in and out of controls quickly. However, this time I feel a different approach is called for. I spend about 20 minutes inside at a table drinking and eating salty snacks. I resume the ride feeling better. I still have a chance at beating the sunset with half the distance still to cover.<br />
<br />
As the day moves into late afternoon the wind dies down to a lesser degree. I'm able to maintain a little better pace. The earlier fatigue appears to have dissipated as well. One quick stop at mile 95 is needed to top up fluids. Besides that there is zero planned off the bike. The path of the sun as it lowers in the sky is directly in front of me. I can see it's height above the horizon and gauge the pace needed to beat it to the finish. When it begins to blind me I need to be close to the end. The final few miles have the busiest traffic of the day coming into Bradenton. I ride in the dedicated bike lane with the sun shining into my eyes. The control can be seen off to the right and I make it in before the last sliver of sun is gone. It took 1 hour and 20 minutes longer than the trip out. None the less I have no complaints. It was a great way to spend a weekend. <br />
<br />
<i>Epilouge:</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_Dh43bvTlH-r92Fu_cfPuB16GqWfLWjIsExPAp_QMyEeNpKOCbBmVAsmjqgEQOfdVe43jW7iGlmuja16dii1xA8xekB0V5r7atEBibTkpK9LQc333P6IuHksyBUB8eGYVWyIUT_ZRaQ/s1600/ct_photo_wagon01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_Dh43bvTlH-r92Fu_cfPuB16GqWfLWjIsExPAp_QMyEeNpKOCbBmVAsmjqgEQOfdVe43jW7iGlmuja16dii1xA8xekB0V5r7atEBibTkpK9LQc333P6IuHksyBUB8eGYVWyIUT_ZRaQ/s1600/ct_photo_wagon01.jpg" height="374" width="400" /></a></i></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">The Cracker Trail is a road Florida's pioneers used during the early
1800's to move cattle to ports along the Gulf Coast the Atlantic
Coast. Today, the Cracker Trail spans parts of State Road 66, State Road
64 and U.S. Highway 98. </span></b></i></td></tr>
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Thanks to Permanent owner John Preston for making all the arrangements for me to ride this route on short notice. And, for taking extra care to make sure the cue sheet was up to date.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-38009070282138069202014-11-26T16:21:00.002-08:002014-12-16T10:55:46.802-08:00K-Hounding - Growing the Pack<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit6fsCb6vN-pS9OPRwYDKyuN_FvY1zbP3atXP_PVbJ6_ZLtz_YoBorrq4TkGbbcwuQHkukuW0RHtix9KyoryZuEkAyOQz7W18wVXH1vAXzPjRSrmQWRYShzF4T4Rw3tff4v-2OaBKo38o/s1600/046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit6fsCb6vN-pS9OPRwYDKyuN_FvY1zbP3atXP_PVbJ6_ZLtz_YoBorrq4TkGbbcwuQHkukuW0RHtix9KyoryZuEkAyOQz7W18wVXH1vAXzPjRSrmQWRYShzF4T4Rw3tff4v-2OaBKo38o/s1600/046.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b>Bill Olsen is New Jersey's First K-Hound (2009)</b></i></td></tr>
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I'd heard about the K-Hound club soon after my entry into the Randonneur style of riding. My impression was that it was limited to a group of mileage junkies from Texas. It was amazing the numbers these folks were racking up. I didn't think it was achievable so I didn't dwell much on it. Those first years of Randonneuring I averaged only about 2,000 RUSA kilometers per year, far short of the required K-Hound minimum of 10,000. We didn't really have any permanent routes in the region back then so all the official k's were achieved by brevets. The majority of my bike mileage consisted of commuting and free rides. I often did the free rides with friends. We would just sort of decide where we would go on any given day. Sometimes just making up the route as we went along.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEighBZwAp056V05q5KCVHOPwuGV_eE8TdUHYTnC9EtmF-nb48kT3SQnWZCyAt2Os5wNKD3edV8SPsU4yGrEMvF4kbmjmN0syyhlZCNc3agKnTQ4ZFsEsMkciq54VfWcmD9BXdJCeWQpTPw/s1600/joe+10,000.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEighBZwAp056V05q5KCVHOPwuGV_eE8TdUHYTnC9EtmF-nb48kT3SQnWZCyAt2Os5wNKD3edV8SPsU4yGrEMvF4kbmjmN0syyhlZCNc3agKnTQ4ZFsEsMkciq54VfWcmD9BXdJCeWQpTPw/s1600/joe+10,000.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b>At the finish of my first K-Hound 2011</b></i></td></tr>
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From the start I dutifully logged all my mileage and was steadily increasing my annual totals. The first big mileage year happened in 2010 where I logged over 12,000 miles on the roads. Despite all those miles my official RUSA total was just over 6,000k for the year. At that point we had a few 200k permanents available in the state. Some of us were doing the R-12. While perusing through a back issue of the American Randonneur magazine I came across an article on K-Hounds. This time I read through it with more interest. It really got me thinking that with 12,000 miles in a single year it would only require me to partake in more official rides, cutting back on the free rides, to get the required 10,000k. I looked up the results history of a few of the highest kilometer riders and noticed a strong trend to 100k permanents. Some of the heavy hitters were knocking off several of these a week. This made perfect sense as 100k rides take less time and are easier to recover from. Currently, we had none of this type of permanent in the region. I quickly went through the process of developing the first one.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">2011 </span></b><br />
<br />
From that initial 100k permanent others were spawned off. RUSA announced the P-12 award that year which gave lots of riders an incentive to undertake these routes. I found myself doing a lot more structured riding, many of it with fellow randonneurs. It was easy to understand why the Texas crowd was so taken by the lifestyle. It really became a lot of fun doing these rides. Many more riders were getting on the R-12 and P-12 bandwagon as a result of the increase in permanents. We rode anytime we could. Even late at night. We would work them in whenever we had a window of time and acceptable weather. My kilometer totals accumulated quickly. By October I was over the 10,000k threshold. Bill Olsen of New Jersey also made the list by the end of the year.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"> 2012</span></b><br />
<br />
There was never any question in my mind about continuing the K-Hound pursuit after that initial year. It had become an enjoyable way of life. While structured riding required a bit more planning than free riding it had one huge thing going for it. It was purposeful. I never bailed out on a permanent that I had started. There were no half-way measures. Either finish the ride or receive zero credit. That wasn't the case on a free ride. Often a 100 mile ride gets cut short because it's windy, or cold, or it's taking longer that what was planned. A permanent doesn't work that way it's PASS or FAIL. No middle ground. Most of us are not fond of failing so we soldier on even when things are unpleasant. In 2012 I made the list for the second time. Bill Olsen did as well. Mostly he was doing PA Brevets and 1200k's all over the country. Many of his kilometers were earned on Grand Randonnees which was quite a bit different than what I was doing. Only on occasion would we see each other on the same ride. At our year end Holiday get together a couple of riders let me know they had taken the K-Hound as a goal for the next year. One of them was my friend Paul. A frequent riding companion of permanents and brevets. He's known by the rando community as PJ Lang.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">2013</span></b><br />
<br />
It was nice having a friend in the chase that year. Although, everyone's situation is unique. Paul is a busy guy and deals with a long commute to work, typically undertaken by train. This was a lemon that he quickly turned into lemonade. He developed a 100k permanent route to his job. Getting up at an ungodly early hour he would ride this point to point permanent, work all day, then take the train home. Some weeks he managed it two or three times. Along with the longer brevets this was a sure fire plan to meet the goal. It took a lot of determination on his part to follow through on those early morning rides. Some were unpleasantly cold, wet, or both, but he did them anyway. I remember joining him for his final K-Hound ride in early December. He had an ear to ear smile on his face when we pulled into the final control. I thought it was great that he was now part of the club. Bill Olsen would repeat as a K-Hound. And, another New Jersey Randonneur, Patrick Chin-Hong. made the list as well. The pack was slowly growing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi31ddkvprHl3XLlrQx9O7-xOLpxPGb57RH2st7OVNvd46qaehGygBxbp2cozxkWp49QFuRmAtcLMjJioibH8yPoem76A2I1JHCKV35ZoVdhqwYjYdJ8ieNMF20Vg1cnTcsJG0AyRtd8Uw/s1600/017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi31ddkvprHl3XLlrQx9O7-xOLpxPGb57RH2st7OVNvd46qaehGygBxbp2cozxkWp49QFuRmAtcLMjJioibH8yPoem76A2I1JHCKV35ZoVdhqwYjYdJ8ieNMF20Vg1cnTcsJG0AyRtd8Uw/s1600/017.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b>Paul a two time K-Hound</b></i> <b>(2013, 2014)</b></td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">2014</span></b><br />
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I had asked Paul at the end of 2013 if he expected to chase the K-Hound for another year. He instantly said yes, which did not surprise me. What was a bit of a surprise was another friend Chris Newman announced she would be going for it too. I was delighted to have another frequent riding companion and ecstatic that New Jersey had its first female K-Hound in the making. Most will remember the winter of this year as none less than horrific. Frigid temperatures combined with frequent snow and sleet made any riding a challenge. I managed only two official rides in January, which met the R-12 and P-12 requirement. Fortunately in February I spent some time in California and racked up 800 k's. I was hoping for better weather in March, but it never happened. Again, I only managed the minimum. Meantime, Paul was doing well with his commuter permanent. Amazingly, Chris was joining him for some of these early morning rides. They both had totals far above mine. I began to question whether I would make the goal this year. I was a little nervous about it. Most of April was cold and windy, but there was not a lot of precipitation. I finally got in a decent month totaling 1200k. Both Paul and Chris were still tearing it up and were far ahead of me. It took me until July to hit full stride with a 1900k month. This was followed by a 2200k month in August. I joined Paul for his K-Hound ride and was thrilled to see him be the first NJR to make K-Hound for the year. He met the goal by the middle of September. Before the end of September I had my biggest monthly total of 2500 kilometers and my fourth K-Hound Award. This was thanks largely to the Natchez Trace 1500k which I rode with Chris. She still needed another 1,100k after the finish of the NT. A lull in riding due to work and family had her playing catch up as the fall approached. An experienced and accomplished randonneur always finds a way to get it done. Paul and I joined in on her K-Hound ride in late November. Neither Patrick or Bill would make the list this year leaving just the three of us as the local dog pack.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">2015 </span></b><br />
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After four years in a row I don't have to actively think about
whether I will attempt the K-Hound next year. It's on auto-pilot now.
Rarely, does it feel like a chore, mostly it's just fun, I'm hoping that
there are others who want to go for it. Group rides are typically more
fun than solo rides. I can tolerate being alone, but I'm not a loner.
Both Paul and Chris prove that you can be a person with a busy life and
manage this award. Determination is the only
requirement. All other skills will be picked up along the way. Howl
if you want to join the pack. <br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Epilouge</span></b><br />
<br />
There are now five New Jersey Randonneurs who have made the K-Hound award. While he wasn't awarded it at the time Bill Olsen is actually the first to achieve this when he accumulated 9,308 RUSA kilometers in 2009. While the total is less than the required 10,000k a retro-active rule change in 2011, which allowed for the inclusion of foreign earned kilometers, brought his total above the minimum. Bill then earned two K-Hound awards in 2011, although one was for 2009. The five recipients have earned a total of 11 of the annual awards. <br />
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As of the end of 2013 New Jersey is only surpassed by four other regions in the total number of K-Hound Awards earned (Lone Star Randonneurs, Seattle, North Carolina, San Fransisco).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqlY46RJZkpU5Ua_izQHyw5mzo-ridUTufFHE91kJbCussiFGOwQlPG8GiYPUwLo3h6cEnGJ2YWfbKPNuLF70X5fmj6W1iL1zKoaenIIf4frij3zG42VvzagsQNphIBVA3NOHIA1sB_s/s1600/Chris+K+Hound.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqlY46RJZkpU5Ua_izQHyw5mzo-ridUTufFHE91kJbCussiFGOwQlPG8GiYPUwLo3h6cEnGJ2YWfbKPNuLF70X5fmj6W1iL1zKoaenIIf4frij3zG42VvzagsQNphIBVA3NOHIA1sB_s/s1600/Chris+K+Hound.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b>A Happy Chris on the final K-Hound ride of 2014</b></i></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEighBZwAp056V05q5KCVHOPwuGV_eE8TdUHYTnC9EtmF-nb48kT3SQnWZCyAt2Os5wNKD3edV8SPsU4yGrEMvF4kbmjmN0syyhlZCNc3agKnTQ4ZFsEsMkciq54VfWcmD9BXdJCeWQpTPw/s1600/joe+10,000.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<b>Christine Newman's K-Hound Story written in September of 2014:</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>I fell in with the wrong crowd. That’s the simplest
explanation I can give for how I came to be pursuing the RUSA K-Hound award. Or
maybe it would be more accurate to say I fell in with the wrong pack if we are
going to stick with the canine analogy.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>My buddy and NJ RBA (does that make him the “top dog”?) Joe Kratovil earned his first K-Hound award
in 2011. I was not too aware of the
award at that point although I have a vague recollection of thinking it was an
unobtainable prize created by those crazy Texans who all appeared to be members
of some rabid K-Hound cult. Joe was only
the second rando from NJ to earn K-Hound status and we had a nice little pizza
celebration after he pedaled his 10,000<sup>th</sup> K. I secretly thought he
had taken randonneur lunacy to a whole new level but he’s a nice guy and I like
pizza so I was happy to help him celebrate his achievement. Fast forward to
2013 and now another riding buddy, Paul Shapiro was in hot pursuit of his own
K-Hound award having being influenced by Joe, who had become something of a
K-Hound whisperer. I watched Paul’s end of year, “mad dog” efforts to reach
10,000Ks which involved riding 1100Ks
in November in New Jersey.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Well now I know how Paul fell under Joe’s spell. Joe is very
subtle. During a ride he will casually say something like “You are riding
really well this year. I bet you could get K-Hound”. Or “K-Hound isn’t that
hard only 200Ks per week”. Or, most insidiously “I can e-mail you my mileage
spread sheet which makes it really easy to chart your kilometers and will keep
you motivated to reach the 10,000K mark.” </b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>As I write this I have ridden 6920Ks, all of which I have
recorded on my Mileage Quest 2014 spread sheet. I have gotten up at 4:15 am more times than I care
to acknowledge to get in early 100Ks on my days off from work. I have been
roped into riding the Natchez Trace and
now have to ride even more Ks to train for a brevet I never even contemplated
attempting before Joe whispered in my ear (“1500K!! All in one ride! 15% of
K-Hound status in one brevet – it’s like they are giving you the award!!!) At
this point, I feel pretty good about my chances of achieving k-Hound status
although I know that anything can happen and it ain’t over ‘til it’s over. I do
know one thing for certain. If those Texans think up some new and even more
extreme award, I am wearing earplugs when I ride with Joe and Paul!</b></span></span></div>
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Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-60434489391340340752014-10-04T17:58:00.001-07:002014-10-04T17:59:11.995-07:00Fix-ing the Natchez Trace 1500k<br />
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There is a magical roadway to the west. It is a strip of smooth two-lane blacktop 444 miles long. It is bordered by trees, fields, rivers, streams and many sights of historical significance. Perhaps its most unique feature is that it is a National Historical Park maintained and operated with Federal funding. It is the eighth most visited National Park in the country. Its northern terminus abuts Nashville, Tennessee while the southernmost part is in Natchez, Mississippi. The main purpose is recreation therefore no commercial vehicles are allowed. The speed limit is never higher than 50 mph, which discourages vehicles from using it for transportation. It is a perfect environment for the cyclist. Neither hilly nor flat, slightly winding, and, impeccably maintained. The roadway is known as the Natchez Trace Parkway. Folks residing in the proximity of it refer to it as the "Trace".<br />
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I've had the good fortune of riding on the Trace several times. Always starting at the northern end in Nashville. My furthest venture to the south was as far as Tupelo, Missisippi, which is less than half of the entire length. I always vowed that one day I would ride the entire distance. I hadn't gotten around to that yet when the Nashville Randonneur group announced that they would be hosting a 1500 kilometer Grand Randonnee on that very roadway. Designated The Natchez Trace 1500k the route would use the entire length north to south and back. I'd always thought I would ride it in just one direction, but the opportunity to ride it both ways, getting credit for 1500k in the process, seemed like something I needed to do.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Start - Nashville, TN </b></span><br />
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On a Tuesday morning at the early hour of 03:55 I am lined up with 55 other riders awaiting the start. There are a few other riders from New Jersey in the cue. The plan is to ride with my friend Chris. Should we successfully finish within the 120 hour time limit I will be over the threshold for the K-Hound award and Chris will be about 1,000k away. I'm hoping that incentive will keep us going during the low moments.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>DAY</b>-<b>1 (269 Miles) Nashville, TN to French Camp, MS</b></span><br />
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We are given the off signal and immediately descend to the start of the Trace, which is only about a mile away. I recognize the stone wall entrance as we transition onto the historic roadway. The surface is totally free of potholes and debris. I'm awaiting the arrival of daylight to begin taking in the scenery. When sunrise does occur there is a misty cloud cover in the valley. A rather dense fog. We stop at the overlook to take a photo of it. It's like looking at a cloud from above. Rather quickly we resume riding, The organizer's plan is for riders to make 270 miles this first day ending up at French Camp, Mississippi where there are cabins for sleeping. Chris and I are hoping to override the sleep stop to gain some extra miles the first day. There are few other choices to sleep so doing so would require catching a couple of hours shut eye at one of the many rest stops along the roadway. Some have covered picnic areas. Though first we have to cover the 270 before we can think about moving on.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCyzsQFItxQol9NUcLCWW42_3xq5XUNdVXARfLz-pWtWGxjxDjGvvubBmNO-KnPMVKyPex4FwODs9MLKj1KLaKSEUuvi1FD6zvlEmZIZF6ljf0_MdwGjOjSJYVy_7HDTggBsXPskjV308/s1600/NT-Fog+in+Valley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCyzsQFItxQol9NUcLCWW42_3xq5XUNdVXARfLz-pWtWGxjxDjGvvubBmNO-KnPMVKyPex4FwODs9MLKj1KLaKSEUuvi1FD6zvlEmZIZF6ljf0_MdwGjOjSJYVy_7HDTggBsXPskjV308/s1600/NT-Fog+in+Valley.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>Morning Fog Hangs in the Valley </b></i></span></td></tr>
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The first sixty miles or so are on the hilly side. The grades are not particularly steep but the rollers keep on coming rather relentlessly. The first control comes up at Collinwood, TN, ninety miles into the ride. There is a gas station and restaurant which is buzzing with riders. We take the opportunity to grab a quick bite of food, refill water bottles, then move on.<br />
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The terrain is somewhat more moderate south of Collinwood. Shortly we hit the Alabama border and ride past cotton fields for about thirty miles. After which we cross into Mississippi, which hosts the majority of the Trace. Our next official control is Tupelo, which is 300 kilometers into the ride. Volunteers position themselves in between these distances offering riders food and water. There are some gradual inclines that present themselves. Nothing difficult to climb, but some require me to stand in order to manage my 74 inch fixed-gearing. The temperature begins to climb as the afternoon progresses. We approach the city of Tupelo at the early part of rush hour. Traffic is heavy and this is further complicated by road construction. We are glad when the exit appears. We have our choice of establishments to use for food and beverage. We select a Subway restaurant. There are a few other riders there as well, including Bob from New Jersey. We spend forty-five minutes total consuming calories, chatting, re-filling fluids and organizing gear for the next leg.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>The Border of Alabama Day-One</b></i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>Tupelo, Mississippi is very hospitable and is known as the Birthplace of Elvis</b></i></span></td></tr>
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We are back on the Trace in just a few tenths of a mile. The next control is the sleep stop at French Camp. We are making good time and expect to arrive between 12 and 1 am. As the night rolls in the temperature begins to drop. We had anticipated a low overnight temperature in the upper 50's to low 60's. It began to look like we'd have to tolerate lows in the upper 40's. The plan to ride on past the sleep stop starts to feel like a bad idea in light of this new information. While the temps continued to drop we pedaled on to French Camp, which was just off the Trace. It's a summer camp which the organizer rented for our use. We checked in at the dining room. We'd decided to stay the night and were given cabin and bunk assignments. Chris in the women's cabin and me in one of the men's. Typically, I don't sleep well in a group environment. This is most especially true on the first night. After showering I rested in my bunk without sleeping for five hours. I got up at 6am on my own to prepare for the day's ride to Natchez,<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMFkCrFZkmrFgvyGPEUHK065jMrhdcxPJSlFEH-8PjvH2Kb6e-HMf9HIUdCi-4v_fYDUDm2LMX6qGTUi4KzG09U-GQn0uBM3PtJi58eG-prBu0m8puIXN9fwc2DFAWkdG9d-YloSx8PZs/s1600/NT+great+room+French+Camp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMFkCrFZkmrFgvyGPEUHK065jMrhdcxPJSlFEH-8PjvH2Kb6e-HMf9HIUdCi-4v_fYDUDm2LMX6qGTUi4KzG09U-GQn0uBM3PtJi58eG-prBu0m8puIXN9fwc2DFAWkdG9d-YloSx8PZs/s1600/NT+great+room+French+Camp.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">The Dining Hall at French Camp</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Sleeping Cabin</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Day-2 (187 Miles) French Camp, MS to Natchez, MS</b></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Passing by Jackson, Mississippi</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Chris and I depart French Camp at 7:15 prepared for a 187 mile day (300k). Chris admits to a similar lack of sleep. We are anticipating it will be a tough day. Our next official control is in Clinton, which is a suburb just south of Mississippi's major city, Jackson. This is about a ninety mile stretch. As was the case on day one we encounter volunteer support at Parkway rest stops. They have everything needed to keep riders moving. The temps heat up under very strong sun. The skies are perfectly clear, The terrain has changed to mostly flat while still presenting interesting scenery and frequent historical landmarks. Although, we typically pass by these without stopping. The traffic is heavier as we pass by Jackson, but very tolerable given we are outside of rush hour. Soon enough we reach our exit and head for a strip mall where volunteers advised there would be a selection of food places. We select a Mexican place and are quickly scarfing down enchiladas and burritos. The waiter kindly fills our water bottles with ice water as we get ready to depart. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">One-hundred miles to the Southern end of the Parkway</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">View from the Lower Section of the Natchez Trace Parkway</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Back on the Trace headed south we settle in for another 90 mile stretch to the sleep stop at Natchez. Once again volunteers are encountered at many places along the way. The terrain remains flat for awhile then becomes more rolling. While the rollers are gentle they become continual. Night time is encountered quickly, which tends to dampen my spirit a bit. I'm feeling the miles and the effect of the fixed-gear and must find a mental state that allows me to endure. I feel that things have suddenly turned and I am now questioning my ability to complete this ride. Hands, feet and butt are all hurting. Blocking it out is only marginally working. I focus on just getting through this day. Stopping for brief periods helps and we do this for bathroom breaks and water re-filling. The counting down of the final thirty-miles to the hotel in Natchez is excruciating. The Trace has a certain sameness about it through this part. There are few historical points, and not much of anything else, except a two-lane road with rolling hills. I've released from my head all thoughts of a spiffy fast finish. Now I only want the maximum rest and recovery possible. Any finish time in advance of the 120 hour limit will do. At the last few miles of the Trace a support car coming from the south pulls over to tell us the hotel is behind another hotel and some riders have been missing it. We thank them and continue on. The thought of a hotel bed and a full nights sleep keeps me going to the end of the Trace, and the four miles further to the Holiday Inn in Natchez. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Heading South to Natchez</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Twilight on the Trace</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Moving into Darkness</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Upon arrival we check-in with volunteers and claim our hotel rooms. We agree on a plan to meet at 7am for breakfast. This will allow for a full nights sleep of about eight hours. Typically, this length of a break is unheard of on long brevets. Due to the more generous time allowances on the 1500k many riders are taking advantage of this and getting more sleep. After showering and teeth brushing I stagger to the bed and instantly fall asleep. The next sound is the alarm at 6am.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Day-3 (187 Miles) Natchez, MS to French Camp, MS.</b></span><br />
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After a quickly consumed breakfast we organize gear and get back on the road for another 300k day, We both are feeling a bit stiff and sore, but we have a full nights sleep working for us. I'm confident that we will warm up and feel better after a couple of hours. After a few miles of riding in the city of Natchez we enter the Trace at the southern terminus. Riding this section is more pleasant in the daylight. Also, we have the mental boost of heading toward the finish not away. I'm considering this a pivotal day. Getting through today will put us over 1,000k, which is 75% of the total distance. The remaining 500k is broken up over two days and should be easier to manage. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>A Church in the City of Natchez, Mississippi</b></i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>The Marker of the Southern Terminus of the Natchez Trace Parkway</b></i></span></td></tr>
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While riding along I mention to Chris how inept I feel at the longer distances. I'm really not very practiced at anything over 600k. I've only ever completed one 1,000k and one 1,200k, while there are riders on this very ride that have done eight or nine 1,200k's in a single year. I'm a little disappointed in how beat-up I am just half way into it. Chris said I should take a look at the bike I'm riding in case I didn't notice it was a fixed-gear. She said, "No one else is doing that for a good reason. It's harder." While I suppose there is something to that I couldn't settle with the idea of doing this ride on anything else. I'm not at all certain why, but I felt compelled to bring the fixed. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>I love this Bike!</b></i></span></td></tr>
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The next control is Clinton, MS. We decide to return to the same Mexican restaurant we visited on the way down. We are fortunate enough to get the same nice waiter. We stuff ourselves with quality carbs. Again our water bottles are topped up and iced before we are back on the road. The rest of our needs are seen to by the volunteers along the route. We've been seeing these same people for three days and we look forward to our roadside meetings. They are a fun group and we enjoy chatting with them. Chris and I have been wearing matching jerseys. Only two of three days were intentional while one day was just a coincidence. None the less riders and volunteers seemed to get a kick out of it. We were becoming known as the matching jersey people from Jersey.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Chris' Food = Carbo Loading - Mexican Style</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><i>Chris heading to French Camp</i></b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><i>Posing by a Historical Marker with matching Knapps Cyclery Jerseys</i></b></span></td></tr>
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The final miles to the French Camp sleep stop are fairly difficult for me. Once again, I have issues to deal with requiring a lot of determination to keep riding. I am looking forward to the shorter day tomorrow. After some food we are shown to our respective cabins. I sleep some, but not fully. At 5am I decide to get up and organize my gear for the day. I meet Chris in the dining room for breakfast at 6:30am. We plan to get underway at 7am, By sheer coincidence our jerseys match again. <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Day-4 (141 Miles) French Camp, MS to Tishimingo, MS</b></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>Info for the Day Ahead</b></i></span></td></tr>
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Back on the Trace for this reduced mileage day we are both in good spirits. The doubts of finishing are beginning to fade as the next two days have mileage well below 300k each. The terrain for today may be the mildest to date. We will be largely on flat to lightly rolling all the way. With some climbing as we near the sleep stop. The early morning passes pleasantly with the usual roadside rest stops on the Parkway. Unusually, we have an additional control which will consist of twenty miles off the Trace. We are to visit the town of Okolona, Mississippi. We take the exit as directed and find ourselves on a two-lane highway with no shoulder. There is brisk traffic consisting of many large trucks, some pass by with little space between. For the first time in over 700 miles we are uneasy. This lasts for ten miles before we reach the small town, and the safe haven of the local grocery store. The people in the store are extremely nice. Our cycling jerseys have New Jersey printed on them so everyone asks if we are from there. The second question is did we ride our bikes to here? We take a short break and chat a bit with the locals before heading back to the Trace. This time we are directed to a different, more bike friendly, route. After the twenty mile off Parkway excursion we are delighted to be back on the beautiful roadway headed to our next stop in Tupelo. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAT_OdR4szRCD7dWzRpGCidjq2bcsl-m-8mrIYvfLpTyi4mR-c6-D022tCZ9WDZlyqoORChR3MYbvk5btxJk_PC9msEllTqqcjq5UZQyclJbiGniB3tMwuUsktFoseWtIca2b5FKtlb68/s1600/NT+Log+Truck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAT_OdR4szRCD7dWzRpGCidjq2bcsl-m-8mrIYvfLpTyi4mR-c6-D022tCZ9WDZlyqoORChR3MYbvk5btxJk_PC9msEllTqqcjq5UZQyclJbiGniB3tMwuUsktFoseWtIca2b5FKtlb68/s1600/NT+Log+Truck.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><i>The road to Okolona is loaded with Log Trucks. Little room for bikes!</i></b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi07PB06BeSWeH8vkdX1NV1et0YfUpIfkFMhiyg8BNc-Ss2rDGIBvpnYL85eEo_xMWRg4bxugiWHa1uRH9Zt47ghpIJRU5UyyYPrqu_1kmfCQ0NhNdCvqQzNfHWJYi9ZKVy3Y_Q7BdalvQ/s1600/NT+OKolona+sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi07PB06BeSWeH8vkdX1NV1et0YfUpIfkFMhiyg8BNc-Ss2rDGIBvpnYL85eEo_xMWRg4bxugiWHa1uRH9Zt47ghpIJRU5UyyYPrqu_1kmfCQ0NhNdCvqQzNfHWJYi9ZKVy3Y_Q7BdalvQ/s1600/NT+OKolona+sign.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Entering Okolona, Mississippi</span></b></i></td></tr>
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We arrive Tupelo outside of rush hour and have no traffic problems. We opt to eat at the same Subway used on the way south. Chris finishes quickly and heads to a nearby WalMart for batteries. I move on to Starbucks for coffee. We meet up there enjoying an additional break before heading out. I'm not used to spending such a large amount of time off the bike. I've trained myself to get through controls quickly. I now find it difficult to relax when at them. I'm trying to unlearn my "in and out" style. In this 1500 kilometer format taking longer stops seems acceptable and should be enjoyable. I'd long ago abandoned any idea of an aggressive finish time. So, it makes perfect sense to take the time. I just need to wrap my mind around it. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOPGKt6jGmL2jpI9oz-HhpECjjYOy0gly7rEUxEI1VdaNTP5V2og2bM0ot-_JUQyv3q_OWA-JWfvJzlZWJu2ycq6cV5Rr0RfIb2chG7y3I_RPeAVBgiK4yf9y6fp1U4Fhvy889YHOXNCQ/s1600/NT+HAy+Bales+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOPGKt6jGmL2jpI9oz-HhpECjjYOy0gly7rEUxEI1VdaNTP5V2og2bM0ot-_JUQyv3q_OWA-JWfvJzlZWJu2ycq6cV5Rr0RfIb2chG7y3I_RPeAVBgiK4yf9y6fp1U4Fhvy889YHOXNCQ/s1600/NT+HAy+Bales+2.jpg" height="167" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Hay</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Back on the Trace we have forty-nine miles to the Tishomingo State Park sleep stop. We expect to arrive just after dark. The miles pass by uneventfully. There is a roadside rest stop about half-way manned by volunteers. When we arrive they congratulate us on completing 1200k, which is the standard Grand Randonee distance. I'm kind of glad that we still have 300k to go. Despite the challenge of it the ride is basically fun. We spend some time chatting with the two men who have been helping us through the ride all week. By now they know our favorite beverages and snack foods. They are always upbeat despite how tired they must be. I'm sure it's hard work supporting this group of riders day and night though they never appear weary from it. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkLlTY-42jYDy07LHyr52kg1QU2Z_Crpb881k8nSi21IudTigfpouajD-T-mYmuIaiIOmLHYivnnr5JgEabbNCmqnhmFWGnLZG0X-EzPyf6GaJPhR_alh4nP0Fu_XSenre7widznqDLww/s1600/NT+Vollie+Chat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkLlTY-42jYDy07LHyr52kg1QU2Z_Crpb881k8nSi21IudTigfpouajD-T-mYmuIaiIOmLHYivnnr5JgEabbNCmqnhmFWGnLZG0X-EzPyf6GaJPhR_alh4nP0Fu_XSenre7widznqDLww/s1600/NT+Vollie+Chat.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Chatting it up with two of our Favorite Volunteers</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Upon reaching the exit to Tishomingo State Park we have a final climb of the day. There is five miles of roadway with a pretty steep kicker on it. It is a final chore for tired legs and we both get it done without a problem. The bikes get parked and we head into the main cabin where there is food waiting. A pleasant meal is enjoyed while chatting with other riders and the organizer, Jeff Sammons. We are given sleep cabin assignments. Chris and I agree to meet at 6:30 am for breakfast as we are escorted to our different cabins. I look forward to a hot shower and sleep. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyF_4Xprrvn_JOu_aunk-TQtBvHyszQ6YoQ0NJY1EGZWUC0RjqD2F13v5SLDh65V8585lGnkypwVGc1NBBYXQHJZYF8V6lD3nxG-QW9IgdWLRlzHENe__CqgToVT3mqswamf1v-ZYloZQ/s1600/NT+Tish+sigh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyF_4Xprrvn_JOu_aunk-TQtBvHyszQ6YoQ0NJY1EGZWUC0RjqD2F13v5SLDh65V8585lGnkypwVGc1NBBYXQHJZYF8V6lD3nxG-QW9IgdWLRlzHENe__CqgToVT3mqswamf1v-ZYloZQ/s1600/NT+Tish+sigh.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">The Entrance to Tishomingo State Park</span></b></i></td></tr>
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It's about 10pm by the time I lay my head down. I sleep reasonably well until 5am when I wake on my own. The cabin which was full is now only half full as some riders departed in the night. I decide to get organized for the day since I am sure I will not be able to sleep more. I re-arrange all my gear in the drop bag and organize the things I will need with me for the day. Once dressed and ready I head up to the main cabin. It's only 6am, but breakfast is ready. I text Chris to let her know. She arrives in the dining room about 6:45 the wake-up call for her was missed. She is willing to depart right away. I insist that she have breakfast first. These are nice hot meals including eggs, pancakes, sausage and potatoes. I decide she shouldn't dine alone so I indulge in a second breakfast for myself. There is plenty of extra food as many riders left during the night. Soon after eating we leave for the final miles of the ride. It's just a little past 7am.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Day-5 (155 Miles) Tishomingo, MS to Nashville, TN</b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOO3ffa_fFr7B-PCba9aGp4nwscvHWBqfvMrmHctHnAtlQASDQFqxs1oWe0bKkc-n0iWcatgYu0dWrZXnW5oi_ca2Afld1D1D92-om9X9HeTKzU2fpjxUfzYjWIvV1FkSSGP8ouWQLS08/s1600/NT+Cotton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOO3ffa_fFr7B-PCba9aGp4nwscvHWBqfvMrmHctHnAtlQASDQFqxs1oWe0bKkc-n0iWcatgYu0dWrZXnW5oi_ca2Afld1D1D92-om9X9HeTKzU2fpjxUfzYjWIvV1FkSSGP8ouWQLS08/s1600/NT+Cotton.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Cotton Field</span></b></i></td></tr>
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We retrace the five miles, mostly downhill, to the Trace. The weather predicted some chance of showers, but for now it's just cloudy and mild. We both are in good spirits. We've been getting lots of rest and are still way ahead of cut-off times. We expect to arrive the finish before sunset, which will be ten hours in advance of the control closing time. The terrain to the next control, in Collinwood, TN, is mostly mild. After that point we will be looking at more serious rolling terrain to the finish. In the meantime life is good. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnZ8Mga1zNeJb9vAhOkly9rrRfKgvAbR6d2J9gPW6I5ILMx7xFD0TXzz4mZIXhXi1EA8i0izxSuFnqqrjXrJi3_v4WQCG74XdsEK76TPgJ0GcNkkV1iNFlx1ZHZY-7-7XhLq2TEQVSHlE/s1600/NT+AL+Border+North.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnZ8Mga1zNeJb9vAhOkly9rrRfKgvAbR6d2J9gPW6I5ILMx7xFD0TXzz4mZIXhXi1EA8i0izxSuFnqqrjXrJi3_v4WQCG74XdsEK76TPgJ0GcNkkV1iNFlx1ZHZY-7-7XhLq2TEQVSHlE/s1600/NT+AL+Border+North.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Sweet Home Alabama</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgAVd7tSv3K9vJAza8CI7d1fHvmE6lqJ2hFzq_JZZf2a54NHGt1HaG2lPEiKXACh56B7I5qudM4wgYoYB4iKGr4tEH-MRupJs5d_xT1fdwQH_B_3uC_54dlq4XZml9cfw8TiYkY-ylqlo/s1600/NT+Blockade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgAVd7tSv3K9vJAza8CI7d1fHvmE6lqJ2hFzq_JZZf2a54NHGt1HaG2lPEiKXACh56B7I5qudM4wgYoYB4iKGr4tEH-MRupJs5d_xT1fdwQH_B_3uC_54dlq4XZml9cfw8TiYkY-ylqlo/s1600/NT+Blockade.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Road Closed - Detour to Cherokee, Alabama</span></b></i></td></tr>
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We cross the border into Alabama in good time. Shortly after the crossing we come across a blockade across the entire roadway. We were made aware there may be a detour for road construction. Deep down I was holding on to the hope that we would be able to get through as we do most of the time. However, in this case there is a construction guy present who will not let us pass by the barriers. He quite politely explains that we must take the detour, which adds five miles to the trip. We exit as directed and are riding along a highway in Cherokee, Alabama. I look down and notice my rear wheel appears out of true. Chris confirms that it looks that way to her as well. Stopping along the shoulder of the highway for closer inspection, I find a broken spoke. While somewhat out of true the wheel is ridable so I continue with it. Typically with 32 spokes, one broken one is not a big deal. Quickly it leaves my mind. The remaining miles on the detour pass by without incident. Although, the entrance to the Trace is a welcome sight. The roads are superior than anything else and the scenery is more pleasant, We continue north soon entering the state of Tennessee and arriving at our control, which requires another exit from the Trace.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR3yGF3W_oA7qdG_hMj6fu2vxSClgWaOY3C7_shRh3nWx36Q_VxqUBgSwJrOLV2mMmFLivFEszo7VpufmE-bpvxXbaEyxR7csWhQKWYwwQrWQA0o2Oj2uH05VEwKuleA-gF7Yg0PSW1aA/s1600/NT+Collinwood+Hardware.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR3yGF3W_oA7qdG_hMj6fu2vxSClgWaOY3C7_shRh3nWx36Q_VxqUBgSwJrOLV2mMmFLivFEszo7VpufmE-bpvxXbaEyxR7csWhQKWYwwQrWQA0o2Oj2uH05VEwKuleA-gF7Yg0PSW1aA/s1600/NT+Collinwood+Hardware.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Collinwood, Tennesee - The Penultimate Control</span></b></i></td></tr>
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We are directed by volunteers to a small hotel in the small town. We are treated to food prepared by the ride staff. It's an enjoyable lunch spent chatting with volunteers and riders who continue to arrive. Reluctantly we leave quickly to undertake the ninety remaining miles to the finish. We expect we will see some of these folks along the way.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG9PiLZhJeJqUEwem0erncrY_sNXcrCrX2bQc2rPIP8Sb1sykHbfz60T1YvcZD5ztTiH2vfh3cXOhOQiPWZaeU6URwu-NP8jgIoDdYYSCl7QmlNy6kzq6Ptel-UY5-WYDmPEgZh_OC2d0/s1600/NT+Unknown+Riders.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG9PiLZhJeJqUEwem0erncrY_sNXcrCrX2bQc2rPIP8Sb1sykHbfz60T1YvcZD5ztTiH2vfh3cXOhOQiPWZaeU6URwu-NP8jgIoDdYYSCl7QmlNy6kzq6Ptel-UY5-WYDmPEgZh_OC2d0/s1600/NT+Unknown+Riders.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Michelle from Minnesota riding with Jim from Ohio</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjaqszqyStsRDjsDwOX0O6VVoF-Cb3HOex24nU23v1Qi6owq5IwgnlPyhjwGJI5Km1Le1Sc6ON6yrj8xCM3zJmBQCePgATTQg1O4d6kmYdijxEE5eCCv82w7JvHqpj2B0lNzcvlXfCmFU/s1600/NT+Jeff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjaqszqyStsRDjsDwOX0O6VVoF-Cb3HOex24nU23v1Qi6owq5IwgnlPyhjwGJI5Km1Le1Sc6ON6yrj8xCM3zJmBQCePgATTQg1O4d6kmYdijxEE5eCCv82w7JvHqpj2B0lNzcvlXfCmFU/s1600/NT+Jeff.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Jeff Another Favorite Roadside Volunteer </span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi78or95-onRBMUSDUJJFqDHWOkgAr2oA64GMvs8iEgYnd2xb9YnoLzOoMK1TUuoXoR1ur7VdseNrQx9Fhr6wAwg9txwXmtYCQ5gemVnBAGDPVA5lXpO014pmS8tMCBB_680HvvnUlQq1Y/s1600/NT+Bent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi78or95-onRBMUSDUJJFqDHWOkgAr2oA64GMvs8iEgYnd2xb9YnoLzOoMK1TUuoXoR1ur7VdseNrQx9Fhr6wAwg9txwXmtYCQ5gemVnBAGDPVA5lXpO014pmS8tMCBB_680HvvnUlQq1Y/s1600/NT+Bent.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Vicky from Texas on the Recumbent</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Things are looking good as we work our way to the Trace and continue our northerly trek towards Nashville. Soon the bigger hills begin to appear. I feel good climbing them and Chris is having no trouble as well. We cover about forty miles when I hear a loud snapping sound at the bottom of a descent. I stop and check the rear wheel and notice a second broken spoke. The wheel is significantly wobbly and I must open the rear brake up to clear it. The tire is within a couple of millimeters of rubbing on the frame. I decide to continue but have much less confidence in the wheel holding up. When we come to one of the rest stops I decide I should call the ride organizer's SAG number in case someone can help me with a wheel or spokes. I place the call and speak with Bill. After listening to my predicament he thinks he can have someone drive a fixed-gear rear wheel out to me, but it may take a little while. I give him my current location and explain that I intend to keep moving until the wheel either breaks or someone arrives with a replacement. He agrees that is the best plan. <br />
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I'm now riding more gently and slowly, especially on descents. I suggest to Chris that she go on ahead as I will be slowing her down at this point. She insists on staying together. We cover about ten miles when we notice a pick-up coming the other way slowing up while eyeballing us. The truck pulls to the side of the road. I notice it's the RBA Jeff Sammons. He asks me if I want a new wheel which he pulls from the back of the truck. It's a complete fixie wheel and tire with the correct 17 tooth rear cog. Five minutes later I've got the wheel on and tight and we are heading to the finish with less than forty miles to go.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBqUaKTBhCH5IZpWDnlPQtRLN0Mj0Jd1EWlHvsTz4ioCz8AS3q8BRyjy4M7RGqLZCI9OeFCANVldsSzuRJmf8TdHz2n8jCGZZ4iqMc_TXVfEPzmyGatuWgPwcivi9z1lr4B8yY66LQbH0/s1600/NT+Wheel+Delivery+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBqUaKTBhCH5IZpWDnlPQtRLN0Mj0Jd1EWlHvsTz4ioCz8AS3q8BRyjy4M7RGqLZCI9OeFCANVldsSzuRJmf8TdHz2n8jCGZZ4iqMc_TXVfEPzmyGatuWgPwcivi9z1lr4B8yY66LQbH0/s1600/NT+Wheel+Delivery+1.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Wheel Delivery From RBA Jeff Sammons</span></b></i></td></tr>
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After riding for awhile it becomes clear we will not make the finish before sunset. We pull over to the side of the road at a bridge to put on night gear before continuing. As anticipated the last miles are the hilliest. It's pretty constant up or down with little flat ground in between. Near the top of one of the climbs I just miss rolling over a large brown snake laying in the road. I point it out to Chris who is just behind. She thinks it might be a Copperhead. I silently wonder if a snake can puncture a tire by biting it. Fortunately, the creature remains still. A car approaches from behind and moves over to pass us. This in essence saves the snake from being run over. One good deed for the day.<br />
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As we near the final mile markers I begin to think about the steep climb just before the finish. Off and on it has entered my mind whether or not I will make it up with so many miles in my legs. I've climbed it on prior occasions, with a fixed-gear, but never with over 900 miles behind me. I'd mentioned it to Chris a couple of times and she would just say; "Walk it. No big deal." At this point, or at any point, I don't want to walk up this hill one-half mile from the finish. I'm pretty determined to climb it. If I had a roll of duct tape I might tape my feet to the pedals so I can't clip out. It's climb or fall. With no duct tape on board I decide to pretend I'm locked in. I will not clip out no matter what. We pass by the final marker of the Trace and bear right to the big hill. The road connects Route 100 and I-40, so there is lots of traffic. Falling could be deadly, but I hold onto the thought that I won't clip out. With the hill now under us it's time to stand and push the pedals. It steepens a bit more past the half-way point, but we both continue to climb. It hurts some, but not as bad as I anticipated. I don't have to fight the thought of clipping out because it never enters my head. The finish is at the top and Chris and I arrive together. The longest brevet in the country is behind us. Boo-ya!!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAZTvIJpbJ9UOROnsxSQeqfq_LjSE_aUyuFKawkJR_U8JgvCkeKDwBUAn4dWm8pa5shxy9Cvgk2YiTCuuWIiVLEUezYzfBRPf2eWl60EadJ-nMdRw_VRPwWuo2sGWtbT_ItlOKysWBw9A/s1600/NT+FinishChris-Joe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAZTvIJpbJ9UOROnsxSQeqfq_LjSE_aUyuFKawkJR_U8JgvCkeKDwBUAn4dWm8pa5shxy9Cvgk2YiTCuuWIiVLEUezYzfBRPf2eWl60EadJ-nMdRw_VRPwWuo2sGWtbT_ItlOKysWBw9A/s1600/NT+FinishChris-Joe.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">At the Finish!!!</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Epilogue:</b></span><br />
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At the barn which serves as the finish we are treated to food and beverage while celebrating with other riders and volunteers. A tired, but happy group sharing thoughts of the adventure just behind us.<br />
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I'm appreciative for the companionship of Chris during the
entire adventure. She has a very pleasant personality. Always looking
at the positive side of things. For me our riding together was the
perfect offset to my rather sour disposition and
negativity. We rode every mile within ten feet of each other and never
had any kind of serious disagreement. I suggested all kinds of crazy
plans to finish the ride in a faster time. In retrospect, they were all
dumb. None the less Chris listened to them patiently without criticizing. In the end we wound up riding the plan which was the design of
the organizer. Ride, eat and sleep lots. This worked fine.
Anything else would have been less enjoyable, if not down right
disastrous. <br />
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Speaking for myself this was a unique and fantastic event. The venue of the historical park built around a roadway was the perfect setting. The organization of the Tennessee group was no less than superb. Clearly much thought and effort went into the planning. And, much hard work went into putting it on and supporting the riders. We couldn't help but feel well looked after. Several riders suffered mechanical issues besides myself. All were given assistance and those riders finished. Little details like charging stations at the sleep stops for phones and GPS units were provided. Cremes, ointments and pain relieving gels were on hand to help ease some of the suffering. There were too many volunteers to count. All performed their tasks in good spirits. All of this combined made the event enjoyable and memorable. It is likely to be held again and I would be just as likely to return.<br />
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All the riders from New Jersey finished successfully. We represented our region well. Something to take pride in for sure. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZmYjyGwB-xOI0jOxu3qstHpzYnwgGwyKGj2LoIKauzkIvFcM5eKxu7nWzdQCYuj2ZOxOMLCZuqM8eN6Aeh2dM-lt_DcbhQhW_YQLqYtbLvh4ZDuRGDjuf5QYCDpNwnltJxeLnAb-NMfk/s1600/NT+Bill+Russell+Finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZmYjyGwB-xOI0jOxu3qstHpzYnwgGwyKGj2LoIKauzkIvFcM5eKxu7nWzdQCYuj2ZOxOMLCZuqM8eN6Aeh2dM-lt_DcbhQhW_YQLqYtbLvh4ZDuRGDjuf5QYCDpNwnltJxeLnAb-NMfk/s1600/NT+Bill+Russell+Finish.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Bill R. a New Jersey Randonneur from up North</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Id90pJxPnj7qeiGxhFiE1-EjOCd6rpl-H52hawJN06QUV9Pa7jw0fniJeD09oaLgjeY80qQCYR7hjpc2hySWAo73tutEap2_LBv6BECPIyIVw6y2mtV08DWXH1C34ZIQNM5POdUeRUU/s1600/NT+Bob+Finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Id90pJxPnj7qeiGxhFiE1-EjOCd6rpl-H52hawJN06QUV9Pa7jw0fniJeD09oaLgjeY80qQCYR7hjpc2hySWAo73tutEap2_LBv6BECPIyIVw6y2mtV08DWXH1C34ZIQNM5POdUeRUU/s1600/NT+Bob+Finish.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Bob a true blue NJ Rando</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmISmFA11kMiDiXdNGkJ_DUQS02bJucYkRij6jWq93rG0hrhEVSCgadHpZNyamlCs4zRDy2c1OYQHZJj8y_5f5phNaqadXACH_SgWg5tvYs6BaRiX_Yg2S3cw7ms4KoccY73_gyXT3OHc/s1600/NT+Bill+Finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmISmFA11kMiDiXdNGkJ_DUQS02bJucYkRij6jWq93rG0hrhEVSCgadHpZNyamlCs4zRDy2c1OYQHZJj8y_5f5phNaqadXACH_SgWg5tvYs6BaRiX_Yg2S3cw7ms4KoccY73_gyXT3OHc/s1600/NT+Bill+Finish.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Bill O. A long time NJ Rando with brother Mark and Tom from Minnesota</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-1666399952570750142014-07-03T17:29:00.000-07:002014-07-03T17:39:00.766-07:00New Jersey Double Crossing Record<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1uCy40bGRFB4fSdvjKxrnpKE8KxXVmmesKVkCrcK0LTmoo5kOjhsjggVxb-JoB0Vu1q2ekjS0HcsjZuiu-M5_RalA-fCxJkrThtjyyeifSzbY1V6kKrrd6QS5_x1YCiMaPiU3qI_RxtI/s1600/Crossing+Record+Start.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1uCy40bGRFB4fSdvjKxrnpKE8KxXVmmesKVkCrcK0LTmoo5kOjhsjggVxb-JoB0Vu1q2ekjS0HcsjZuiu-M5_RalA-fCxJkrThtjyyeifSzbY1V6kKrrd6QS5_x1YCiMaPiU3qI_RxtI/s1600/Crossing+Record+Start.jpg" height="357" width="400" /></a></div>
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There is something about a state crossing record attempt that inspires me. I seem to come alive when I have one in mind. I've had my eye on three records in my home state of New Jersey for over five years. The three records would be the lateral crossings of the state. At the widest part, where the records were established, the state borders are separated by just under 80 miles. The borders are quite distinct as one side is the Delaware River and the other the Atlantic Ocean. No way to overshoot the goal. At least not on a bike.<br />
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In 2012 I undertook the East to West Crossing and successfully broke the record by a wide margin on a fixed-gear. It was my first try at a UMCA Record. Needless to say I was pleased with the result and vowed to undertake more of these. Most especially, the two remaining cross-state records in New Jersey. Two years passed before the planets aligned for me and I could get things together to have a go at it. With the double-crossing as part of the mix preparations had to be made for a longer day. This required more crew and two vehicles instead of one. The logistics and details were all more complicated. We settled on a plan to have a lead car and a follow car. The team of two in the lead car would scout the route ahead and confirm with us by radio the upcoming turns. In addition, they would keep track of time, distance and inform me how the pacing was working out. The follow car would perform the normal function of seeing to the rider's safety, nutritional and mechanical needs. Also, the official would ride in the follow car and document the attempts.<br />
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On a warm Saturday morning of June 28 the crew of five, including the official and myself met at a Denny's Restaurant near the start. After some breakfast we moved over to a small park on the Delaware River right by the Salem Nuclear Power Facility. Final last minute preparations were attended to and we set off to the Eastern end of the state. The wind direction is typically westerly, which would have been favorable. Unfortunately it was one of those rare times when the wind is coming from the east. Also, it felt stronger than the predicted eight miles per hour. I settled into a rhythm using the Garmin's Virtual Partner as my pacer. I set his speed to 0.5mph higher than needed and attempted to drop him. After a time I had gained 2 miles on him, but refused to become complacent as I knew there were many long traffic lights ahead which would erode my average. This proved to be true as the wind felt stronger as I continued further east and the intersections got busier. Traffic signals favored the busier north south roads. Waiting at some seemed to take forever. At more than halfway through the first record attempt I was still staying ahead of the VP, but my lead was eroding. I could see it was going to be a close one. Fortunately, the open farmland terrain gave way to a bit more of a wooded area. The pine type of trees which are prevalent near the Jersey coastline offered some wind block. This allowed me to keep the little computer image of my virtual opponent at bay until just ten miles from the finish. The area opened up again as we headed onto Great Bay Blvd, which would end at the water. The head wind howled at me while I strained to keep pace. Two single lane bridges which were traffic signal controlled delayed me only slightly. The black top surface yielded to sand signaling the finish. I was eight minutes ahead of the old record.<br />
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After only a few minutes I headed back out. There were two other records that potentially could be broken. The one I set myself in 2012 for the East to West, and the West-East-West which was set by the same rider whose record we just broke. I thought I would have a tail wind on the return trip making this all very easy. Indeed it seemed to be the case as I motored back up Great Bay Blvd at a nice wind assisted clip. Unfortunately, this was very short lived. The wind took a quick shift to the south before I made ten miles. Immediately, I saw my speed drop. At the same time I realized my legs sort of lacked the snap I would have liked with almost seventy miles remaining. I also took notice that my shorts and jersey were covered with salt. When did it get so hot? Why did I not notice it? I called back to the follow car that I would need more water and electrolytes. As soon as I got the hand off I began guzzling water and swallowing pills. I could only hope that it wasn't too late. The next thirty miles were just miserable. I never felt good for even a minute. I could think of nothing but quitting. Which was not an option for me as I wouldn't dream of dishonoring the crew like that. I ground on in what must have been perceived as painfully slow by the follow car team. A case of hot foot that just wouldn't quit forced me to pull over to walk it off for a few minutes. One of the team held my bike. I resumed riding within just a few minutes feeling a bit better. I knew there was no way I would beat my old record at this point, but the West-East-West was still very much on the table. I raised my son (crew chief) on the radio and asked him what pace was needed to break that record. After some time calculating he responded with 12 miles an hour. I think I actually smiled hearing that. I set the VP to a gentle 15 mph and watched him fall off my wheel and off the screen. I needed one more two minute hot foot break just 5 miles from the finish. Upon resuming I could see the cooling tower of the nuclear plant spewing out steam off in the distance. I would have never thought that such a thing could be so beautiful, but it was. Almost imperceptibly I increased my pace. The lead car announced the final turn and I amped it up a bit more. The road ended at the park. We had beaten the record by 54 minutes. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b>The Team L to R - Charlie K, Joe K, Lucy K, Greg B, Christine N, Steve H.</b></i></td></tr>
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It was a happy little celebration at that park by the nuke plant. The whole team was elated with the result. The crew had done everything perfectly all day. They guided me around the route and saw to every detail. They worked together in absolute harmony, even though some had just met for the first time that morning. I couldn't have been more grateful to them. They are the best!Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-21945853576173894932013-07-06T13:44:00.000-07:002013-07-06T13:44:00.419-07:00Long Island 300k - Inaugrial Event!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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At 4am the group of riders leaves from a parking lot across from the train station in Bethpage, New York. The Specialized Tarmac Pro feels responsive and fast as we take to the roads. It's the first time I've started a brevet on anything other than a fixed-gear in almost two years. My friend Jon and I agreed to ride together promising each other we would shoot for a fast paced ride. For the time being we are leading the parade with fourteen riders following our tail lights into the darkness. After about ten miles of easy terrain we make a turn up a steep hill, appropriately named Snake Hill Road. Someone from behind yells out the suggestion that we should shift into our easiest gear. I shift down a bit, but not to the easiest. I'm used to climbing everything with a 72 inch gear, so how bad can this be. The climb is quite steep, which requires me to stand at times. It winds to the left and the right as the pavement snakes it's way to the top. When we reach the apex I look around to see only five of us. Everyone else is behind and out of view. The hills keep coming as we dwindle to four riders leading the way. With the arrival of daylight a secret control is encountered with first time RBA Paul Murray taking photos and verifying brevet cards. We move on only to encounter more hilly terrain. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>Coming into the Secret Control</b></i></span></td></tr>
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The riders around us are Steve and Bob. Steve is riding his first 300k. He is pushing the pace up the hills forcing us to ride aggressively to keep up. I am managing, but would typically not ride this hard so early into the ride. There is yet a long way to go. I'm hoping he is not making a mistake. And, if he is, that his miscalculation won't undo me as well. The other rider, Bob, is a strong climber and at times shoots past me smoothly on the way up. Frequently, I need to resort to my standing climb, which is well developed from many fixed-gear miles. In the standing position I am not easily dropped on a hill. The terrain continues in the same way along the north shore of the island to the first control at Port Jefferson. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Bob who rode with us on the first section</span></b></i></td></tr>
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A pleasant little deli/bagel shop serves as the control. Our group of four are the first to arrive. Paul, the RBA, and fellow Randonneur, Steve, are there to check-in the riders. After my brevet card is signed I refill water and look to leave. My riding companions are all at a table enjoying some breakfast. I've learned to be quick through controls and now find it impossible to relax at one. I inform them that I need to move on, but will ride at an easy pace until they can catch up. This proves to be no problem as there is a huge climb just as I get underway. After which I keep it slow just spinning easily. The relaxed pace feels good and helps to loosen up stressed muscles from the earlier intense climbing. Before long Jon and Steve catch up. I ask about Bob. I learn that he decided to back off a bit dropping from the group. Eventually, the hilly terrain gives way to pancake flat roads as we follow the coast to the end of the island. Additionally, we are favored with a tailwind. The three of us move along well working together to maximize our pace. I'm working hard, but not as hard as the climbing. An errant piece of metal on the roadway punctures my rear tire bringing the fun to a halt. I tell my riding companions to go on ahead, but they insist on staying together. I speedily change out the tube and re-pressure with a quick-fill. We get right back at it with me taking a long pull as a small pay back to Jon and Steve for waiting. With the help of the wind we quickly arrive at Orient Point, on the north fork of the whale shaped island. The north fork is the upper tail fin. The view is of the Long Island Sound and the state of Connecticut on the other side. A large ferry is loading up cars and passengers for a trip across. Our control is a small deli right by the ferry dock. As we are replenishing our bottles Paul arrives and verifies our brevet cards. He informs us that the nearest rider to us is about twenty minutes behind.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeUqCvp9hwGIPRxv4e_uzSv724gXnTYw_kk0-J1rVqFyigsfRdabLv9kkL1tUMdeDsDNl_Wmk_VF4vSR1BnAoNDJZE1IdgjRXNhFKn3nRLnLFVNQDJ1j_CNKCLR42i0Sx3JBf7NFEl23U/s1600/li300seaview.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeUqCvp9hwGIPRxv4e_uzSv724gXnTYw_kk0-J1rVqFyigsfRdabLv9kkL1tUMdeDsDNl_Wmk_VF4vSR1BnAoNDJZE1IdgjRXNhFKn3nRLnLFVNQDJ1j_CNKCLR42i0Sx3JBf7NFEl23U/s400/li300seaview.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Rocky section of beach by Ferry Dock, Orient Point, NY</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Heading back to the west is not nearly as pleasant. We now cut through the wind that blew us out here. Our pace is slowed to 17-18 mph with us giving a good effort. Having three to share the work at the front is quite helpful. After a few miles we see Bob heading east riding alone. Some miles later we see Erica and Gwynna making their way to the turn around. For the first nine miles we are retracing our route. We then arrive at a control point in Greenport where we branch off to different roads for the return. The control is a 7-11 store. We've only ridden nine miles so are able to make quick work of the stop. The effect of the wind is somewhat reduced by the buildings around the town. There are 21 miles to the next control.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu0elZKDaKiKB39hRdk9lryODI9bgC33i-tdm1JISz4C0ZxGTq84gdMjE1kzWH5f-X7b8A_6-J4UJaGaLOffeGJnI3ERvXNOslxa7KBqtp9ceqdP7L_f6JPQg9X49x5TS_JVXY_OaXxxU/s1600/li300wine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu0elZKDaKiKB39hRdk9lryODI9bgC33i-tdm1JISz4C0ZxGTq84gdMjE1kzWH5f-X7b8A_6-J4UJaGaLOffeGJnI3ERvXNOslxa7KBqtp9ceqdP7L_f6JPQg9X49x5TS_JVXY_OaXxxU/s400/li300wine.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">No time to stop in, but good to know</span></b></i></td></tr>
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The terrain remains mostly flat with the constant head wind. We are skirting along the Peconic Bay, which is the body of water between the two whale fins. There are not a lot of road choices on this narrow land mass so we are riding on Route 25, a fairly busy state road. The good news is the car traffic actually helps shield us from wind. I'm mostly feeling good, but detect an underlying layer of fatigue. Thanks to the lightweight carbon bike the pace so far is my fastest for a 300k. There is still about 100 kilometers to cover. I'm hoping I can hold out for that much longer. To make matters worse I'm starting to notice how warm the day has gotten. Steve is beginning to show signs of wearing down. On one of the few rolling hills we encounter I can hear him struggling behind me and dropping off the pace briefly. Jon continues to look strong. We are directed off of the main route as we enter the town of Riverhead. This is where the two whale fins merge into the main body of the whale. After a few turns we arrive at a Subway store which is designated as control number four. I refill my fluids and prepare to depart. I notice Steve and Jon have settled at one of the tables in front of the store. They are looking to take a break. Resting doesn't help me much, typically I just stiffen up and wind up feeling awful when I start riding again. I tell them I want to go now, but will ride easily so they can catch up.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv_Ex26PHJXXTi7UeXQMclMcRn-b7mbiU9WMIOlSIYbwrbXWK1TPHkb7d9JJvZoO8oolsp6AOudpMmn54Vi9sorTviESDgCiK2tGHOaY7iik2VziGQw7371uMBMeSdU1F_oHiv730TQqQ/s1600/li300steve.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv_Ex26PHJXXTi7UeXQMclMcRn-b7mbiU9WMIOlSIYbwrbXWK1TPHkb7d9JJvZoO8oolsp6AOudpMmn54Vi9sorTviESDgCiK2tGHOaY7iik2VziGQw7371uMBMeSdU1F_oHiv730TQqQ/s400/li300steve.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Steve, our riding companion for many miles</span></b></i></td></tr>
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I spin smoothly away from the control. I'm directed back on Route 25 for a couple of miles, then to River Road which will be followed for six miles. I keep my speed to a meager 14 miles per hour to allow Jon and Steve to get back. I'm surprised when I still haven't seen them after nine miles. As I approach an overpass for the Long Island Expressway I notice a single rider coming up from behind. Jon pulls alongside and informs me that Steve needed to rest at the side of the road a short ways back. He doesn't expect he would be able to catch up to us again. Steve had helped us get to this point taking some strong pulls on the front. It's too bad he won't be finishing together with us. With a little less than fifty miles to go Jon and I fall into sync. The flat terrain continues as does the constant head wind and heat. I'm starting to feel a little fried. The easy miles I rode alone waiting for Jon to catch up have helped some, but there is no way to totally reverse the effect of the all the hard miles. I'm resigned to the fact that feeling bad for the remainder of the ride is inevitable. I just want to push on to the finish and get it done. We enter a very populated area with lots of traffic and many stop lights. We are close to the last control in Ronkonkoma, which is the last one before the end. We spot the Dunkin Donuts shop on the right side of the busy thoroughfare. Given how hot it is I'm thinking about a frozen beverage.<br />
<br />
We both dump the contents of two Coolada drinks into our water bottles and head out for the final 27 miles. We quickly turn off the high traffic roads in favor of less populated, although somewhat hillier pavement. The hills are not as serious as the ones this morning, None the less my legs feel the strain. Jon seems undaunted on the climbs, as is usually the case with him. He is quite light and has a nifty fast spin which seems to propel him to the top smoothly. All the while I am cursing any gradient over four percent. The headwind is still ever present. We stop briefly at an information control, which is a local park. With the question answered succesfully, which verifies our passage to this point We move on for the final seven miles. <br />
<br />
It remains hot and windy for every final inch of the ride. The miles tick off a little slower than on the outbound. But, soon enough we make the final turn to the finish. Paul sees us approaching and begins taking photos as we ride down the road and into the parking lot. The same lot we departed from 13 hours and 10 minutes earlier. Jon and I share the course record for this first time ride. It is a personal best time for both of us at the 300k distance. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVk-Q1kz9YBh97eSX4InX1jSFoBjnfsw0t-s9bVLtbNP4bHu50haQ16a-dhiTcZM6vGsGfO4EiUpD8qHyyOTbz4LWrJfikW_z0_sNPFemnKNvlDzldw_VCdnrSpZz-TmvZ2Rc4rZLccZ0/s1600/li300finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVk-Q1kz9YBh97eSX4InX1jSFoBjnfsw0t-s9bVLtbNP4bHu50haQ16a-dhiTcZM6vGsGfO4EiUpD8qHyyOTbz4LWrJfikW_z0_sNPFemnKNvlDzldw_VCdnrSpZz-TmvZ2Rc4rZLccZ0/s400/li300finish.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Jon (L) and myself (R) coming in to the finish</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<br />
<b>Epilouge: Parts I & II</b><br />
<br />
<b>Part I</b><br />
<br />
Paul Murray and the Long Island Randonneurs came up with a fine brevet. It had all the elements one hopes for when looking for a ride with a challenge to it. Which came in the form of hills, heat and wind. Also, the scenic quality of the route was excellent. We went by more parks then I could count and the view of the Long Island Sound was terrific. Everything was organized superbly and it was a pleasure to partake. I highly recommend this ride for next season. I hope to see you there.<br />
<br />
<b>Part II</b><br />
<br />
Making the switch to a geared bike was not an easy decision for me. I'd ridden exclusively fixed-gear for close to two years. Prior to that fixie riding has represented a good percentage of my miles since 2006, and I expect it always will going forward. Having traveled around a bit I happened to meet some of the other riders who ride long distance in this style. Most do not use that format exclusively, although a few do. Those who do know nothing different. Fixed riding feels routine, normal. Some of these riders will actually claim that it is no harder, just different. But, in truth it is harder. By my reckoning between 10% to 30% more difficulr based on terrain. Sometimes it's just fun doing things the hard way. Sort of like fingertip push-ups. I've enjoyed my fixed-gear endeavors immensely. It's satisfying to finish a long challenging ride using a machine that wasn't really designed for the job. Just recently, I enjoyed riding the Catskill 600k fixed. It was a great feeling to have made it around in good condition on a bike that didn't made little sense given the route parameters. <br />
<br />
The reason for the change is simply that I tend to get bored doing the same thing all the time. I love cycling and hope to never lose interest in it. The wonderful thing is there is so much variety within the activity. I lean towards brevets, but have dabbled in UMCA racing as well. There are very few UMCA activities where a fixed-gear is the appropriate choice. Since racing is competitive one's gear needs to be competitive as well. I have aspirations of accomplishing some things in this arena. The lightweight carbon bike is the right tool for the job. Now I only need to train myself to be the right rider for the job. I'll get back to you on how this works out. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOhfyP4zRBACdZyN6nXX0mebjDXI6EpgJgKCSlSDHeyJDfTVOip71V1Vy1lHx2nLASbQOk1rItYvkTxbwnhBI7cQBkg6cBBTiZN1j77utiCl_OfYyB0ivPWPCoJxFlALZbfSGXAUJ0Dg/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOhfyP4zRBACdZyN6nXX0mebjDXI6EpgJgKCSlSDHeyJDfTVOip71V1Vy1lHx2nLASbQOk1rItYvkTxbwnhBI7cQBkg6cBBTiZN1j77utiCl_OfYyB0ivPWPCoJxFlALZbfSGXAUJ0Dg/s200/004.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Boo-Ya!</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-23211132402322079162013-06-14T12:56:00.000-07:002013-06-14T12:56:31.834-07:00Catskill 600k - Fixed Gear!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ6dBTYfhqAccZ4gLElSynn2mcPvlHI47e0iE_4_qtEdXjHudzoDzqSo3yfPsaezMCSXmXLXE0UaLImZ7rWqFB8M8ouu_p5U6_y3sqcL336DtY1PbLU0qf_RiQ8yXuWeDv0egzC_dNYXE/s1600/Catskillbridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ6dBTYfhqAccZ4gLElSynn2mcPvlHI47e0iE_4_qtEdXjHudzoDzqSo3yfPsaezMCSXmXLXE0UaLImZ7rWqFB8M8ouu_p5U6_y3sqcL336DtY1PbLU0qf_RiQ8yXuWeDv0egzC_dNYXE/s400/Catskillbridge.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Nigel</td></tr>
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The hotel clock on the end table reads 3:55am as I hear the distinct beep of my cell phone indicating a text message awaits. I'm expecting to start a 600k bike ride at 5am from this very hotel, but, who could be texting me now? I fumble my way in the darkened room to the phone, where it is plugged into its charger. The message reads: "Are you coming to the start?" It is from Katie, the ride organizer. I text back: "Yes. At 5am right?" Her reply is quick and succinct: "No! 4". Damn! I messed up the start time! I'm in disbelief at my stupidity. The next half hour becomes a fire drill for me as I ready my gear in hurried fashion. Once downstairs I go through the check-in procedure with Katie and receive my brevet card. Patrick takes my photo, as was done with the group of starters who made it on time. I then take to the roads, which are still wet from early morning showers. The time is 4:45am.<br />
<br />
My Specialized Langster feels smooth beneath me on the flat roads leading out of the northern New Jersey town of Rochelle Park. The drive train hums quietly as I maintain a snappy cadence. The air feels both chilly and humid at the same time. I'm comfortable with arm warmers and knee warmers. The jacket remains in my pack. This is my third time on this particular 600k. Although the route has varied some over the years the basic nature of it, mondo hilly, has remained throughout its history. It's not an annual event, this being only the fourth running since 2006. I was a DNF that first year. A 90 degree day combined with poor pacing on my part had me calling for a ride home after only 130 miles. Five years passed before I tried it again, fairing far better with a successful finish on that attempt. Today I risk another DNF by riding a fixie. Three friends, who had ridden the exact route one week prior, on the pre-ride check, had politely advised me against attempting it fixed. These guys are highly experienced and I respect them immensely. Despite it all I still wanted the added challenge. The thought that I might not be able to make it felt exciting. I probably wouldn't feel that bad if I had to pack it in. After all, it is a crazy thing to do. Yet, on the other hand if I succeeded? Well, that would be immensely satisfying. It seemed like there was no way to lose. I advised my wife, who kindly drove many hours to retrieve me back in 2006, of the possibility I would need such assistance again. After which I committed myself to the plan.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNdAKFuk4Wmi4POPbV6iKzKh7zaYr7E-HzCZfazp7vMNvdOpwo_A4IuY9X1R2hfF0Av5RTkq11pH5ee3SHTH0KR1MWZ_WMX1QlxQIxgTmnpPvCS68dLkqHD1MKSZxPyUcizzEhbyMme_I/s1600/IMG_2812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNdAKFuk4Wmi4POPbV6iKzKh7zaYr7E-HzCZfazp7vMNvdOpwo_A4IuY9X1R2hfF0Av5RTkq11pH5ee3SHTH0KR1MWZ_WMX1QlxQIxgTmnpPvCS68dLkqHD1MKSZxPyUcizzEhbyMme_I/s400/IMG_2812.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo by Chris N.</td></tr>
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As the darkness slowly yields to daylight on this overcast morning I am crossing into the state of New York, where I will remain for most of the adventure. The terrain of the early miles is quite gentle. I find myself making good time. I'm hoping I can catch up to some of the riders by the first control at mile sixty-one. In the meantime, I'm passing by reservoirs and lakes with little to no traffic around. I reach route 9W which also has low traffic due to the early hour. I'm riding next to the Hudson River passing the Stony Point nuclear power plant. After a hefty climb and descent the river is crossed at the Bear Mountain Bridge. I enjoy the spectacular view in every direction. Route 9D follows the river on the east side up to the town of Fishkill. My direction is north and will continue to be for many miles. I soon find myself at Hopewell Junction which is the control. There are numerous riders there, some appearing to have just recently arrived.<br />
<br />
<b>61 miles from the start.</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQCGJRQzx4XdpCafEGBkD-IPsKKP4I494Z3wnTdcT410z-h0ZnLN46k2g1k7dpSDeAOQwoqoXZH_y_0RGB-XdRyqala0zK8Un2inu0NwwhfXf1T9mGtx2s38Zeio2TLXtmmSOCm_7YfSs/s1600/IMG_2639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQCGJRQzx4XdpCafEGBkD-IPsKKP4I494Z3wnTdcT410z-h0ZnLN46k2g1k7dpSDeAOQwoqoXZH_y_0RGB-XdRyqala0zK8Un2inu0NwwhfXf1T9mGtx2s38Zeio2TLXtmmSOCm_7YfSs/s400/IMG_2639.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>Rail Trail</b></i></span> photo by Chris N.</td></tr>
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After refreshing my bottles and removing knee and arm warmers, I depart the control with Christine and Janice. We enjoy more mild terrain some of which is on rail trails and the Walkway over the Hudson. This pedestrian and bicycle specific bridge is the longest of it's type in the country. Soon after crossing the Hudson for the second time the terrain turns more hilly. The rhythm of the fixie calls for aggressive climbing. My riding companions fall back. I find myself riding solo again. I begin to pass by other riders, all of whom I know by name. I see my friend Nigel ducking into a small general store to re-fill water bottles. I opt to push on to the next control before stopping. The hilly terrain leads to the massive Ashoken Reservoir which is then crossed over on a bridge. So far the climbing is not terribly difficult and the scenery is outstanding. My spirits are high as my confidence soars. A few miles later I am at the Bread Alone bakery in Boiseville, along with many other riders. Apparently, I've caught up to the main group.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeqkEph58XtKb_AQghQJSxYIex6PmywH_ONoAoZ-8Mg1lH03e5FkyEkU0-RHocSdSJx1mCmpjAXy6G523bgJE989TOoYYcjFtzERhOozH3JD62GKDIi0qSraVq4IvSs1-KygqFNZjPW6A/s1600/IMG_2683.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeqkEph58XtKb_AQghQJSxYIex6PmywH_ONoAoZ-8Mg1lH03e5FkyEkU0-RHocSdSJx1mCmpjAXy6G523bgJE989TOoYYcjFtzERhOozH3JD62GKDIi0qSraVq4IvSs1-KygqFNZjPW6A/s400/IMG_2683.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>Boiceville Control with Jon the other fixie rider</b></i></span> photo Chris N.</td></tr>
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<br />
<b>111 miles from the start.</b><br />
<br />
I follow the practiced steps of quick controlling. Check-in, bathroom, get a food item to eat on the bike, fill water bottles, flip cue-sheet, load the next leg into the Garmin and depart. Because of the crowd at this control it takes about ten minutes to accomplish all of the above. At C-Store controls it usually takes about five. About a mile up the road a rider pulls alongside. It is Jon from the PA Randonneurs. He is also riding a fixed-gear and is preparing for LEL which is in just a few weeks. We fall into sync together chatting for a bit before taking turns pulling into a mild headwind. After about twelve miles we begin to climb a mild grade for six miles. The climb causes neither of us much stress. The remaining miles to the next control are lightly rolling and pleasant. We arrive at the country store in Grand Gorge in fine shape. There are three riders there when we arrive, all of whom I recognize. Jon is quite friendly with the two PA riders in the control, Tim and Bill.<br />
<br />
<b>147 miles from the start. </b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCXXcTKneTkDw4g5q12eKClWSpUS8auQfgCXS7zHsBZRwvJaszSYTSy9kbWQcUCQ1Tho0LuPmnx6D0dSvEuCHkT8ENTKq9gvN_IT0hddILbmp2Ts6c50hjwGdJDhqN29LiTR3Vp5MZxN0/s1600/IMG_2672.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCXXcTKneTkDw4g5q12eKClWSpUS8auQfgCXS7zHsBZRwvJaszSYTSy9kbWQcUCQ1Tho0LuPmnx6D0dSvEuCHkT8ENTKq9gvN_IT0hddILbmp2Ts6c50hjwGdJDhqN29LiTR3Vp5MZxN0/s400/IMG_2672.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo by Chris N.</td></tr>
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We all manage to make short order of it and depart as a group of four. The terrain features some rolling hills, but nothing daunting up ahead for awhile. We move along well as the three PA riders chat excitedly about all things rando. I pedal along quietly conserving energy for the miles ahead. The sleep stop control is still ninety miles further. The twenty-eight miles to the next control pass uneventfully. We arrive at the Express Mart in Dehli still in full daylight. One rider, David, is in the control.<br />
<br />
<b>175 miles since the start.</b> <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRbwZ_gsFYI-tFIDbGCjSxk9sNcswQZw693NTb72l-paCWtABKblt8FhFU_Hx6hg7qQl3dPUGn-xhFZ6zAiFN-CtpAdeqkfeu9duFKCrl7doA7uJzXh9f5Rqmn2jVY1JsA_vP53iMGo94/s1600/IMG_2757.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRbwZ_gsFYI-tFIDbGCjSxk9sNcswQZw693NTb72l-paCWtABKblt8FhFU_Hx6hg7qQl3dPUGn-xhFZ6zAiFN-CtpAdeqkfeu9duFKCrl7doA7uJzXh9f5Rqmn2jVY1JsA_vP53iMGo94/s400/IMG_2757.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo by Chris N.</td></tr>
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David departs ahead of us, but only by a few minutes. The next control is a mere 12 miles featuring more mild terrain. One could start to think that this ride has a bad rap for being more challenging than it really is. But, I know better. My information from the pre-riders is solid. This ride will get tougher before this day is out, and, even tougher the next day. After completing a short uneventful segment our group arrives in Andes to be greeted by Bob a fellow Randonneur doing duty as the control volunteer. Bob lives in the region. He previews the next thirty miles for us describing a 3.5 mile climb we will be dealing with up ahead. Darkness will be upon us soon so we spend the time to ready our night gear. The temperature has dropped a bit requiring an extra layer. Once again David has left the control ahead of us. We prepare to leave soon after.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL9mELEH7ns7pAwlogl30G5iWgQ3X51EWda9uowtz25TSyzItSpMJJudWaurT7x_cXxyeZcVmdyE2AOZgXdG3nSr8VrlrUntviSGjq85g_poWBHRmwIRC-y_9FZBzP6S7j3yatgnaS0mk/s1600/IMG_2864.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL9mELEH7ns7pAwlogl30G5iWgQ3X51EWda9uowtz25TSyzItSpMJJudWaurT7x_cXxyeZcVmdyE2AOZgXdG3nSr8VrlrUntviSGjq85g_poWBHRmwIRC-y_9FZBzP6S7j3yatgnaS0mk/s400/IMG_2864.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Chris N.</td></tr>
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<br />
<b>187 miles since the start. </b><br />
<br />
We ride out of the control trending downhill to the Pepacton Reservoir. We parrellell the large body of water for many miles. Once again it is not very challenging terrain. The PA riders start to think this is an easy ride compared to what they face in their home region. I know better. The hammer will fall at some point, and I want to stay mentally prepared for it, or things will become miserable. As soon as we turn away from the water the road pitches up for the big climb. Darkness is upon us as we head up the six percent gradient. As is typical of night climbs the top of the climb cannot be seen. There are a couple of false peaks where the grade lessens briefly leading the rider to believe he is done, only to pitch up again at an even steeper angle. I'm suffering a bit from a case of hot foot and I begin falling back. I work hard to ignore the pain catching back up to Bill who has separated from Jon and Tim. Bill mentions that the grade feels steeper than advertised. My foot flares with so much pain I can only mutter something unintelligible. Finally, I clip out to walk off the pain for a hundred feet or so. After some improvement I get back on the bike and finish the climb. At the top the three riders are waiting for me. We continue together on the long descent ahead. The two geared bikes fly down ahead. Jon and I must keep up our leg speed with the speed of our bikes. The descent continues for six miles tapering off some near the bottom. As we reach flat ground we arrive at the Roscoe control. Bill and Tim are already there waiting. We are greeted by the volunteer, Mordecai, who is also the designer of the route, and, one of the pre-riders. He is happy to see me and tells me I am doing very well so far.<br />
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<br />
<b>219 miles from the start. </b><br />
<br />
The air has become a bit chilly at this point. I pull out a light jacket from my pack to wear on the 17 mile leg to the sleep stop in Liberty. Our group departs the control together. David who was there ahead of us remains at the control. He was under dressed and was looking for a solution to keep warm. As we get going I notice I'm feeling a little sluggish. The big climb and subsequent descent has apparently taken a toll on me. My three riding companions seem no worse for the wear as they are amping up the pace to make the sleep stop quickly. Back at the control they were discussing a minimal sleep plan of one-hour. That strategy does not align with mine. I simply want to survive. I will leave enough time cushion to allow for any problems that may arise, the rest will be spent eating, showering and sleeping. After a few flat miles we encounter some rollers. The PA riders take them on aggressively. I do not make the effort to match their pace. I'll finish this day riding conservatively. I enjoy riding with others, but am not dependent on it. I am quite comfortable riding solo anywhere. I let the gap open watching their taillights blinking up in the distance. Now alone I embrace the solitude of the night. The elevation profile trends upward for most of the miles of this section. There is a final descent into the town, but all prior to that is gentle gradient upward. The longest is three miles at about 3% gradient. I work my way up alternating standing and seated to mix up the muscle use. I hear an odd sound behind. Sort of a flapping noise. I look back to see David catching up to me. I ask what is making that noise. He explains that he is wearing a garbage bag on his torso to keep warm. He slowly passes by. I could increase my effort a bit to stay with him, but opt not to. There are only a few miles left to the hotel. I'm happiest to ride them on my own. Dropping down into the town, making the quick few turns required to navigate to the Day's Inn all happen quick enough. The automatic doors at the front of the hotel whoosh open as I approach inviting me to ride into the lobby. It is just past 11pm.<br />
<br />
<b>236 miles from the start.</b><br />
<br />
A large conference room is reserved for our use. Katie, Todd and Leslie have set up the room with a large buffet table filled with hot and cold foods. There are tables in the middle of the room for dining and the perimeter is used for our bikes. Each rider has a bag of personal items which has been transported by the volunteers from the start. I enjoy a hearty meal. The first time I'm sitting down and eating all day. Jon, Bill, Tim and David are all there partaking in the food. Todd assigns me a room for sleeping which will be shared with Jon. By the time I get my bag and work my way to the room Jon is asleep in one of the two beds. I quietly shower and brush my teeth. I find my way to the unused bed. It is about mid-night. My plan is to depart on my bike at 4am. I should net about three hours of sleep, which is quite adequate. Jon is planning on riding out at 2am. Not surprisingly I don't fall right asleep. It takes awhile before the exhaustion overcomes the hyperactive feeling one has from so many hours of activity. I probably wind up getting an hour and a half of actual sleep. That should be enough to see me through.<br />
<br />
I'm up at 3:15. After dressing in fresh cycling kit I head for the conference room where breakfast is waiting. All the volunteers are there, if they've slept it must have been very brief as the food table is entirely changed from just a few hours ago. Christine and Janice come in for breakfast. I enjoy a bowl of oatmeal while chatting with everyone. The two ladies depart on their bikes with me just a few minutes behind. Despite the early hour it is a pleasant 55 degrees. I'm looking forward to the sunrise, which will take place at about 5:30am. After only two miles I spot Christine and Janice. They have overshot a turn by a few hundred feet. I spot the headlights as they are back tracking to it. I ride alongside for a bit while we discuss the nuances of the Garmin 800, the cycling navigation unit we both use. An occasional glitch is common with these units. They are best utilized in combination with a cue-sheet. Mostly, I find the device extremely useful and have not had a serious navigation error with it. On conclusion of our discussion I move on ahead trying to gain back some of the time cushion I had at the end of yesterday. The roads on this 39 mile section have horrible pavement. The elevation profile is trending downhill which normally would allow one to move quickly. In this case the roads are so rough and gravelly that I spend most of my time braking and weaving around pot holes. The effort involved is as tiring as riding up hills. I am happy to arrive at the control at Stone Ridge where my friend Jon is the volunteer. He was one of the pre-riders of the route. I'm given the run down on the terrain ahead to the next two controls. Jon describes roads with relentless rollers and climbs for the next 77 miles. I feel the need to keep moving.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIQ64JOUf3Eg76xRuaw10UbirFCt6O1rZ0ZKXP5zn1LfGliQoFDk4_h5ysdPxHWPpCieLfLg5I8G1pfAg-_vBr-g8iXU0ouPQc1T_kJFGWC1Z-xe8PMSuc_o0rBG7gasCcyjsqo-tNbOc/s1600/IMG_2793.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIQ64JOUf3Eg76xRuaw10UbirFCt6O1rZ0ZKXP5zn1LfGliQoFDk4_h5ysdPxHWPpCieLfLg5I8G1pfAg-_vBr-g8iXU0ouPQc1T_kJFGWC1Z-xe8PMSuc_o0rBG7gasCcyjsqo-tNbOc/s400/IMG_2793.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Chris N.</td></tr>
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<br />
<b>276 miles from the start.</b><br />
<br />
Back on the roads for this next 47 mile segment the pavement has improved. As promised the rolling hills begin. Only to be followed by a 2.5 mile climb up Mount Minnewaska. I manage the climb in good form. The five hours spent off the bike at the hotel have been of benefit. After the descent the rollers return, but they are mostly the gentle variety. The kind that allow one to maintain somewhat of a rhythm. They take a toll on the energy level, but are preferable to steeper terrain. As I work my way up one of the larger ones a couple on carbon race bikes in racing kit pass by at a really good pace. I assume they are local riders out for a short morning sprint. Typically, I rise to the challenge when coming across other riders, but on this day I decide to hold steady as I still have a long way to go. Some steep kickers appear as I get nearer to the control at Monroe. To my surprise I come across the fast riding couple again as I'm headed up one of the grades. They are moving much slower. I pass by the woman and start to overtake the guy. When he spots me he starts furiously spinning his legs to prevent me going by. I drop in behind him in the opening left by the woman. We've come in to the town and ride through an intersection and into a shopping center which has our control. A bagel store. They are headed there also. I spot the volunteer who is David E, a friend and fellow NJ rando rider. It turns out that the couple is on the 600k also. After checking in I opt for a bagel sandwich to give me energy for the next leg. As I prepare to depart Christine arrives alone. Janice fell off the pace a bit and had suggested she go on ahead.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHflm89Szwl7S7B89UoUCu2Uj2ksAE6CznaSDpnywaidgnEUTTzjitlHdyP8xXKZEpSA2Tu9-4nezrDBe_OPlbpZQ9QezP4mHBEmn1-e7NVbDLRFrBJuRuUz2p7iFnKrlzj51zfR5zDlg/s1600/IMG_2860.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHflm89Szwl7S7B89UoUCu2Uj2ksAE6CznaSDpnywaidgnEUTTzjitlHdyP8xXKZEpSA2Tu9-4nezrDBe_OPlbpZQ9QezP4mHBEmn1-e7NVbDLRFrBJuRuUz2p7iFnKrlzj51zfR5zDlg/s400/IMG_2860.JPG" width="378" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Speedy Rando riders Kate and Victor</b></span> photo by Chris N.</td></tr>
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<br />
<b>323 miles from the start.</b><br />
<br />
Back out on the route I recall an e-mail from my friend Jon received soon after his pre-ride. He described the current section as "not easy". I know Jon for a long time and when he uses that phrase it is a red flag. What it really means is that it will eviscerate you. Initially out of the control there are the same type of rolling hills that were experienced on the way in. I'm managing good spirits as I approach Greenwood Lake from the New York side. The other half of the lake resides in New Jersey which is reached after a couple of rolling miles. Rather suddenly the road takes a wild pitch up. This turns into a climb which stair steps up for some distance. Soon follows a steep descent, a right turn and an immediate climb back up, also quite long. After many miles of heavy rollers this climb on Awosting Road is starting to hurt. I reach a county road as things level out. After less than a mile I'm directed to turn on Marshall Hill Road, which of course goes up more. After which comes Ridge Road which is also a climb, long and stair stepped. Then comes Otterhole which is a climb followed by a long descent. It was like a furious round in a boxing ring where the only thing that can save you is the bell. For me the bell is the control in Bloomingdale. I pull into the tiny convenience store dazed from the last 16 miles.<br />
<br />
<b>353 miles from the start.</b><br />
<br />
Despite being exhausted I don't take any rest. I re-fill my water, intake a gel and ride out for the final 21 miles. This section was described as flat. I'm hoping that is the case, but a nagging suspicion tells me it's not likely to be so. Indeed it begins as flat with only very minor, almost unnoticeable gradient. At about six miles into the segment a climb is encountered. Not a killer climb, but one that required increased, out of the saddle, effort. This is followed by a couple miles of smaller rolling hills, then a long downhill trend. Going down hurts almost as much as going up at this point. The final few miles are indeed flat and welcomed. I arrive at the finish and am greeted by Katie and Steve. I am glad to see them and truly grateful to be done. While I didn't gain much time over the course of the day I didn't lose any either. My finish time is 36:45, not that it mattered as I would have been happy with anything less than 40 hours.<br />
<br />
<b>374 miles from the start. </b><br />
<br />
<b>Epilogue:</b><br />
<br />
I find challenging long rides to be fun. This one certainly was for me. The added difficulty factor of the fixed-gear was just the motivation I needed. It's easy to become bored with long rides. I was told by a very experienced rider that using a fixed drive train on this route would be very risky. That was exactly what I was looking for. An uncertain outcome. Maybe I won't make it, but I'll have fun trying. Motivation can be found in many ways. Setting out to ride a PR for a distance is one. Handicapping oneself by using less than the ideal bike for the job is another. This time I chose option two. We'll figure out the next one when we get there. In the meantime...............Boo-ya!<br />
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Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-25591827800312018022013-05-11T16:08:00.000-07:002013-05-11T16:08:05.948-07:00Specialized Spring Classic Challenge - Strava<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ7oZqNeoMAcZu1p5zfw8jPriueOyJXLgtVzdrHF0Hw9H9Pv8qWTW2024tJ5uKrxlDXQn7g_mxldwStwbEyqoJb6sQQE28yd5qxy8y7uds3FYge6x60dQIfYxpXHfd-f2Cj8V-ADiUxeA/s1600/classics-challenge-v3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ7oZqNeoMAcZu1p5zfw8jPriueOyJXLgtVzdrHF0Hw9H9Pv8qWTW2024tJ5uKrxlDXQn7g_mxldwStwbEyqoJb6sQQE28yd5qxy8y7uds3FYge6x60dQIfYxpXHfd-f2Cj8V-ADiUxeA/s1600/classics-challenge-v3.png" /></a></div>
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I was alerted to this challenge by my employers at Knapp's Cyclery. They explained that the goal was to ride 1,319 kilometers (818 miles) in the month of April. This would represent the cumulative distance of the five professional bike races taking place in Europe during this same time period. Right off I stated that I would likely log 500 more miles in April than the challenge called for. It seemed like a fun idea to sign up. When I logged on to the Strava site I was awestruck to see that there were 28,000 riders participating in the month long challenge.<br />
<br />
On April 1st I begin downloading my Garmin 800 to Strava at the end of each day of riding. I noticed that the participants were ranked by the total number of kilometers ridden. This added a competitive element above and beyond the initial goal. After three days I was ranked 145th out of all the riders. I was surprised to see that participants were from all over the world, the current leader residing in Australia. The United States had 9,000 riders of which I was ranked 45th. With my competitive nature kicking in I began plotting how I would get in extra distance to move my number up. I started adding more miles to my commuting by riding more circuitous routes, averaging fifty miles per day on work days. I would shoot for one-hundred or more on my days off. I rode in this manner for the first eleven days of April before my body demanded a rest day. <br />
<br />
As the month went on I sort of adapted to the increase, which was one-hundred miles per-week more than my normal. The average went from 300 hundred to 400 hundred weekly just like that. I was feeling pretty tired most of the time, but I had learned how to cope with it. Deep down I was afraid of getting sick or injured. When I rode over a bump and felt my calve muscle knot up I thought that would be it. Miraculously, by virtue of icing it twice a day and wearing compression socks when off the bike it steadily improved without rest. <br />
<br />
Besides the Strava challenge I had other things planned for the month like the hilly Lake Nockamixon 200k and the vertically challenging Princeton 300k. In a pure mileage contest heavy climbing is a dumb idea, but if I had any sense I wouldn't be riding a fixed-gear. I did every ride as planned. <br />
<br />
The final week was the hardest. I needed two rest days, but still kept the same average daily miles. The final day of the month I rode just thirty-two miles to bring my total for April to 1703 miles. I finished the challenge in 49th place, world-wide, and 16th in the United States. Not too bad for a fixie. <br />
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Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-28600652370397793902013-03-24T17:39:00.001-07:002013-04-11T04:52:20.201-07:00Central Florida 400k - Hilly, Hot and Fixed<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One grows weary of the winter in New Jersey. By the middle of March there is a strong yearning for a change from the wind driven cold air which has become the routine. Keeping double-century fit in this environment is no easy chore. Besides desire and determination an expensive collection of winter riding gear is required. All the while, a mere 1,000 miles to the south, folks are enjoying high temperatures of eighty degrees with bright sunshine. WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE? That is the question that reverberates through my brain as I ride a 200k permanent on a day in which the high temperature never rises above the freezing point. Desperately needing a break I make the decision to enter the Central Florida 400k held in Eustis, just south of Orlando. I previously attended the ride in 2011 and remembered it as enjoyable (<i>blog report March 2011</i>). <br />
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At 5am our group of 30 riders starts out from the front of the Comfort Inn for the first leg of 56 miles. It's a cool 45 degrees with a light breeze. The group quickly splinters with about six fast riders pulling ahead at a very brisk pace. I settle in with the second group of about eight riders. Some rolling hills present themselves early on as does one very steep kicker named Thrill Hill Road. I maintain pace with the group, on my fixed-gear, by sprinting to the top ahead of everyone only to be re-joined on the downside. I spend a lot of time at the front pulling through an increasing head wind. We pick up a couple of riders who were dropped by the lead group. The first glimpses of daylight begin just after 7am. It is sometime later before the warming effect of the sun is noticed. The skies are cloudless which will make way for a very warm afternoon. By the time we reach the control the temperature has risen dramatically. I spend time removing a layer of clothing and making a quick adjustment to the bike. The group I was riding with departs a few minutes before me. <br />
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I leave the control alone headed for the Ferndale Preserve at mile 113. The force of the wind is felt a bit more at this point. Fortunately, I have lots of practice pushing through it on my own. The terrain on this section is pretty mild so far. However, from prior experience I know it gets a lot tougher. The temperature keeps creeping up, along with the wind. Twenty miles into it I stop at a store to top up fluids. It's a long way to the control and there is nothing in between if this opportunity were passed. As I head out another rider with the same idea pulls in. I maintain a steady clip, but pass no one and no one passes me. The real hilly stuff arrives with the appearance of Buckhill Road, a roller coaster with several good lumps. I hit my highest speed of the ride, thirty-seven, on one of the downhills of Buckhill. Legs spinning furiously as the road pitches back up for the third time scrubbing off all my momentum requiring another tiring grind to the top. Shortly after finishing that torturous stretch of road I am faced with the single most significant climb up Sugarloaf Mountain. I start to feel very hot on the way up and check the Garmin to see the temperature has risen to ninety degrees. Once done with the mountain a more moderate four miles delivers me to the control. I arrive to see everyone I was riding with earlier gathered around the food area. My needs are minimal at this point. I top up my fluids and head out without any further delay. I munch on a Clif Bar as I pedal away. I look back to see no one following me out. I reason that a single rider on a fixed-gear will likely be caught by a large group of riders with gears.<br />
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After just a few miles Buckhill Road is repeated in the opposite direction. It feels about the same as the other way. After some milder miles on county roads I am directed onto a bicycle trail which is followed for 22 miles. The West Orange Trail is a wide recreational path which is mostly flat with some shade. It passes through the towns of Wintergarden and Apopka. It's not particularly crowded and I am able to make good time through it. About half way through I see a rider, who appears to be on the brevet, fixing a flat. I ask if everything is okay and am assured that it is. I continue to the exit of trail. Back on regular roads there are ten miles of somewhat hilly terrain to be covered before the control. I manage a good pace with the help of some favorable wind and arrive at the Citgo Mart in Tangerine, Florida. I'm refilling my water bottles when the guy who was fixing the flat comes in. We chat for a minute. I tell him I'm ready to go and that he should be able to catch me on this next leg. As I pull out to the road a large group is on the way in. Again, I imagine they will catch me before the next control. <br />
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The route does a lot of doubling back on itself, sort of going around in circles. I notice that some of the roads and intersections I've been on before. Mostly going the opposite way. I am directed back to Sugarloaf Mountain for a climb up from the other direction. It's a bit shorter and steeper this way, but presents no problem. When not climbing one of the bigger hills the route is mostly rolling. I'm able to maintain a pretty good rhythm on these type of hills. There is no sign of anyone coming up from behind, which I find surprising. Daylight begins to run out necessitating a stop for night gear. I use the sidewalk where there is a fence to lean my bike against. It takes about five minutes before I'm underway again. Given the clear skies all day I expect the air will cool considerably with night fall. There is one control before the finish at mile 221. I'm making a bee line for it. At this point I don't want any riders catching me. I've ridden most of the day alone, I am happy to finish it that way. With full darkness the bottoms of hills are cold spots where I feel quite chilled. Climbing up to the top of hills feels warm and I relish it. I arrive at the control, in Mascotter, Fl, realizing I need to add a layer of clothes as well as my long fingered gloves. I take a bit more time than at other controls and two groups of riders arrive while I'm there. By the time I depart I estimate there are about a dozen milling about. There are thirty miles to the finish. <br />
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The first few miles feel a bit chilly despite the additional clothes. Soon enough my internal body heat rises enough to make me comfortable. In keeping with the idea that I don't want anyone catching me I amp it up a bit. The rollers continue and I am in tune with them. There are some long stretches of six to eight miles on dark lonely roads. I particularly enjoy this type of isolation when night riding. For me these moments are the highlight of the ride. Not that I don't like being around people, but sometimes it's fun to feel like the only one on the planet for a little while. I keep my pace and occasionally look back for bicycle head lamps only to see more darkness. My Garmin occasionally chirps reminding me of upcoming turns. Everything flows perfectly, almost effortlessly. When the rural setting gives way to a more suburban area I am only a few miles from the end. I give what I have left in my legs to cover the remaining distance quickly. In short order I am at the front of the hotel. I ride through the automatic opening doors into the lobby where the organizer, RBA Paul Rozelle, and a few riders are waiting. Paul is indeed surprised to see me this early. He tells me that there are lots of good riders behind me and only five have finished so far. My time is 19 hours and 22 minutes. I eat two slices of pizza before any other finishers arrive. Just maybe I'm starting to get the hang of this fixed-gear thing.<br />
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<b>Epilouge:</b><br />
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A travel event is a thing to be treasured. Riding a familiar distance in a not so familiar venue heightens the experience for me. Although, I rode this 400k mostly alone I was never bored as things were so different. The weather, the scenery and most everything about the Central Florida region was not what I am used to. I've done my share of traveling around to brevets and have relished the nuances of the different regions. I marvel at the ability of RBA's around the country to come up with routes that are safe, interesting and unique. Typically, the course design will intentionally feature some of the most interesting terrain and scenery a particular region has to offer. The Florida route passed by orange groves with ripe fruit still on the trees. There were pristine lakes with steam coming off the water in the early morning hours. The beautifully maintained West Orange Trail is a testament to the quality of life in the area. It is a further testament to the well being of randonneuring in Florida when thirty riders line up on a chilly March morning to undertake a 400k. It was worth the effort to travel there and I would do so again without hesitation. Thanks to RBA Paul Rozelle and his crew of volunteers for a great route and a well organized ride. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Boo-ya!</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-84043935593058505732013-01-06T18:32:00.001-08:002013-01-06T18:32:59.157-08:00Reflecting on 2012 - The Fixie Year!<br />
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On December 19, while commuting to work, I unceremoniously rolled past the 14,000 mile mark for the year. Just one mile later I would surpass my highest annual mileage total ever, which was set last year at 14,001 road miles. The one difference this year is that every mile was ridden on a fixed-gear bike. There was not a single gear shift nor even a second of coasting anywhere along the way. Two weeks later, upon arriving home from work, on a chilly New Year's Eve, I would finish the year with 14,352 miles.<br />
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As I look back on the experience I'm not sure exactly how to feel about it. I wasn't awed by the accomplishment, it was just another year of riding a lot. I've had a number of those years. This didn't really feel any different. It was like becoming a vegetarian, which I did many years ago. I never missed the meat and I didn't really miss the gears. But, if asked why I made the choice the only answer I have is that it raised the level of difficulty, presenting a greater challenge.<br />
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In reality, the fixie year was kind of a fluke. Near the end of 2011 I was headed to Arkansas for a couple of weeks to visit with family. I decided to take a bike with me. I selected the fixed-gear for it's low maintenance and simplicity. Also, reasoning it would be great off-season training. Unforeseen circumstances had me staying in Arkansas for the better part of four months. I spent a lot of time slogging that bike up and down the Ozark Mountains. I even traveled to nearby Missouri and Tennessee to sample the riding there. It was all hilly terrain, but I was managing quite well without gears. When I set a 200k PR on a hilly Missouri brevet I thought maybe I should just stick with this bike for awhile. In early April I rode a pretty wet 300k, also in Missouri. That was followed by a 400k on the Natchez Trace Parkway in Tennessee. That represented my longest fixed-gear ride ever. By the time I arrived home in May I was committed to finishing 2012 as it was started. The geared bikes in my garage were gathering dust, but I wasn't changing horses anytime soon.<br />
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Back in familiar territory the brevet season was at full boil. I participated in an early May point-to-point fleche from New York City to Westfield, Mass. Our team of four riders, <i>The Shiftless Vagabonds</i>, were all on fixed-gear. I rode a second 300k and 400k, locally in New Jersey. At some point I realized I had three of the four components to the Cyclos Montagardes R-80 recognition. The R-80 is a full brevet series with all rides completed within 80% of the time limit. The 600k was the missing link. To meet the mark I would need to complete the ride in under 32 hours. For me that would require a straight through effort with no allowance for sleep. The New Jersey <i>East Creek 600k </i>fit the criteria. I would end up finishing the ride in 31 hours and 17 minutes. That event also represented my 10th brevet series and brought me the Ultra Randonneur Award. Yet, there was still more to accomplish as the Mondial and K-Hound awards were both in my sights for 2012. I was constantly riding permanents of 100k and 200k distances to rack up the RUSA kilometers. The numbers were looking good, but at some point I began to feel burned out. All the riding, combined with working full time in a very busy bike shop (<i>Knapp's Cyclery) </i>was making the activity feel like a bit of a chore. I needed a fresh perspective to keep things interesting.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Cross-State Record 4hrs 27min</span></b></i></td></tr>
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I decided to take a look at what the UMCA had to offer. The cross-state record challenge had appeal. I found a rather soft record close to home in New Jersey. I believed I stood a good chance of breaking it, even with the limitation of the fixie. With the help of the bike shop I built up a new Specialized Langster aluminum frame fixed-gear. All the components selected were light weight, designed for speed and durability. As the crowning touch I ordered a set of Roval 45 carbon wheels. While getting the bike together I trained relentlessly. Some of my commutes turned into time trials, with me using the Garmin virtual partner to race against. On top of everything I needed to submit all the UMCA paperwork, design my route, find a fellow member to officiate, ready a support vehicle, and find a crew. It all took much effort and energy. It turned out to be the refreshing change of pace I was seeking. On September 9th I broke the existing UMCA record for crossing New Jersey from East to West by over an hour and a half. I even got to spend the day with family as my wife and son volunteered as the crew. Fellow randonneur and UMCA member David Eisenberg officiated the record.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Specialized Langster - The Fast Fixie</span></b></i></td></tr>
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After the UMCA event I resumed the kilometer counting with renewed enthusiasm. Sometime in October I hit the required 10,000 for entry to the K-Hound Club. I was just one 600k short of having a second SR Series for the year. Late season 600's are non-existent in the north-east. If I wanted it I would have to travel. Just prior to Thanksgiving my friend Paul and I went to Texas to participate in a 600k hosted by the Lone Star Randonneurs. It was the perfect way to end the season with Paul acquiring the Ultra-Randonneur and a second series. My finish earned me my 11th series and the Mondial.<br />
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I would still ride five permanents in the month of December, more out of habit than any other reason. Despite having done hundreds of them, sometimes riding the same routes many times over, I still take pleasure in it. The highlight of December was our NJ Randonneur holiday ride and celebration with 14 local riders clipping in for a 100k permanent. At the conclusion of the ride we all ate, drank and socialized. For all the lonely solo miles I've done the chance to mix with a group of friends is a solid-gold event. I hope to do more of that in 2013.<br />
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Epilouge:<br />
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The beginning of a New Year is a mixed blessing. All that has been accomplished the prior year is erased. The goal setting, planning, and self-motivating has to begin all over again. I awoke on New Years Day with zero miles. Fortunately, that would only last a few hours before the first miles and kilometers of the year began accumulating. There is much to decide about 2013. Should the fixed-gear only mode continue? I can only say that it will initially, but, I'm not sure about the entire year. I do find myself gazing fondly at the carbon fiber multi-gear bikes which are neatly lined up at the bike shop. I can't promise I won't give in to the temptation and end up with one of them. Also, the much neglected tandem that sits in my garage is silently beckoning to me. I am thinking I would like to find a stoker to share some of the adventures. I could stand to cut back a little on the solo riding. <br />
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Although I've been cycling since 1984 I only have accurate records from 2006 until present. In the past seven years I have logged 72,100 outdoor road miles. I didn't know the number for sure until I totaled it all up on January 1st. Should the last two years be an indication of future mileage I will then hit 100,000 miles in two more years. That will be the only goal I will set right now. The rest of them will come along as the season approaches. For now I need to ponder things. <br />
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Stay tuned!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Boo-ya!</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<br />Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-18527415416240071622012-12-02T04:59:00.001-08:002012-12-06T06:53:13.918-08:00Lone Star Randonneurs 600k - Italy, Texas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As the season in the northeast grinds to a halt I search feverishly for events to complete my yearly goals. Fortunately, the highly motivated K-hounds in the great state of Texas keep their long rides going up until Thanksgiving. A full series of brevets, including a 600k, are held in late November starting in the small town of Italy. Finishing the 600k would net me a second brevet series and the Mondial award for 40,000 lifetime RUSA kilometers. My friend Paul needed a long ride for the Ultimate Randonneur award and a double series. He agreed to join me.<br />
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<b>Italy, TX</b><br />
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A truck stop with a motel on top and a couple of fast food restaurants is the official starting point. The accommodations are not luxurious, but they are clean and very adequate for our needs. Arriving on Friday night we meet many of the local group for dinner at the Subway. The Lone Star Randonneurs are a friendly bunch. We have a good time conversing with them about all things Rando. They have many big achievers including Dan and Gary who have both completed over 100,000 kilometers of RUSA brevets and permanents. After spending a couple of hours we reluctantly move on to the motel to get some sleep for the 7am start.<br />
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<b>LSR 600k Day One</b><br />
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It's a chilly morning (40F) as we take out from the parking area with fourteen riders, eleven of us on the 600k. One rider doing the 400k and two on the 200k. The 300k route would go unused today. The group takes out very fast. I look down to see we are clipping along at about 20mph on chip and seal road surface. This is faster than I care to go this early in the ride, so, I back down some. Paul agrees with the decision to let the pack go. One other rider stays with us, Matt from New Mexico, riding the 400k. We are on the first of two out and back sections. This one being 220 miles long. At the conclusion of which we will be back at the motel. The plan is to take some sleep before starting the second 153 mile out and back.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Dan Driscoll - RBA Dallas Region</span></b></i></td></tr>
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The sun begins to warm things up. There is minimal wind and the terrain is mild. The only impediment is the ever present chip and seal road surface, which actually takes more energy to maintain a given speed than a smoother surface would. The route consists primarily of Farm Roads. These roads are designated as FM (Farm to Market) followed by a number. The traffic is quite light so we are able to ride along chatting comfortably. The first control is 28 miles out in Dawson. Much of the main group is still there when we arrive. Matt controls very quickly and leaves with a few of the local riders. Paul and I depart some minutes later. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Paul and Matt - Day One</span></b></i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Navigation is fairly easy as we are on most roads for many miles. En-route to the next control in Mexia we spend more than half of the miles on a single road, FM 638. The day has become quite pleasant with mild temperatures, low wind, and lots of sunshine. I begin to enjoy myself on this section. While riding along we come across a huge bull on the side of the road. I notice the creature is not contained by any fencing. He is just loose eating grass at the shoulder of the road. We give him a wide berth passing by on the far side of the road. He pays us little mind and continues munching the grass. I want to take a photo of him, but Paul says it might startle him into chasing us. Not knowing whether a bull can outrun a bicycle I pass up on the photo. Soon after we pull into the control. A large number of riders are there including Matt. We make quick work of it inviting Matt to join us on the next leg. He departs with us to begin this 32 mile section to Jewett.<br />
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Leaving the control we navigate a couple of quick turns to get to FM 39 where we continue for thirty miles. The terrain is mildly rolling with some longer upgrades of light gradient. I've warmed up nicely and am able to pull us along at a good pace. After a time Paul informs me that Matt has fallen back. Given that we are on different rides, and will have to separate at some point anyway, we decide to continue at our pace, hoping we will see Matt again at the control. The miles tick off efficiently on this section. Before we know it we are at the turn off for the control at US-79. The gas station/market is one mile up. Again the main group of riders is there. Most of them depart a minute or two before us, with one rider, John from Connecticut, lingering a bit longer. John has done some of our New Jersey rides and recognized us. We leave the control at the same time and fall into pace together. There is no sign of Matt.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYm-Z3FV0bOKeiT8MnZ6_U2xvK0bImLtNK7OSHFbh7g-Tq3Yl2u1G7trn3dJQ-KYa10rKoRzKZB-bFDtB9OWs99v2VcDiLrnMp4v9Uq3rSSY4yGxl5f89IMhFbgIBfFo1hAzpb0ZjL3cc/s1600/LSR+600k+033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYm-Z3FV0bOKeiT8MnZ6_U2xvK0bImLtNK7OSHFbh7g-Tq3Yl2u1G7trn3dJQ-KYa10rKoRzKZB-bFDtB9OWs99v2VcDiLrnMp4v9Uq3rSSY4yGxl5f89IMhFbgIBfFo1hAzpb0ZjL3cc/s400/LSR+600k+033.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><i>John - Day O<span style="font-size: small;">n<span style="font-size: small;">e</span></span></i></span></b></td></tr>
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After backtracking on US-79 we turn north again on FM 39. This is the single road used to the next control, which is Normangee, 28 miles away. I take the front pulling John and Paul along. The road surface seems smoother on this section. I maintain a steady pace for the entire distance to the control. We arrive in good time within a minute or two of the group in front. Normangee is the turn-around point for day one at mile 110. From here we will follow the same roads back to Italy and the motel. We are ready to leave as Dan and the others are departing. Dan takes the front and pulls us all back to the control in Jewett. He is helping Janet from North Carolina get through her first 600k. So far things are going very well.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8VPleEOHZy2UyPQ8naNzxHdwVBWLEyJ0xGsaGJ6bPmXjU4vglDrlskPNB-rPLNxxR4pDjGOEuh0Ut6BCLlznJ4sc17Q1Dzojuftip0qlRsnsSyimiBss0pesyHBciomFXe1xZS9vhLKY/s1600/LSR+600k+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8VPleEOHZy2UyPQ8naNzxHdwVBWLEyJ0xGsaGJ6bPmXjU4vglDrlskPNB-rPLNxxR4pDjGOEuh0Ut6BCLlznJ4sc17Q1Dzojuftip0qlRsnsSyimiBss0pesyHBciomFXe1xZS9vhLKY/s400/LSR+600k+015.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><i><span style="font-size: small;">The speed limit on a two lane Farm Roa<span style="font-size: small;">d<span style="font-size: small;"> in rural Texas</span></span></span></i></b></span></td></tr>
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We all leave the control together again and head back to the FM 39 going south. We make good time, but Dan has to drop back a couple of times to pull Janet up to the group. Eventually a gap opens and the group breaks apart. Darkness comes upon us on FM 39 and with it the temperature quickly begins to drop. The high for the day was near 70 degrees, but with the clear skies the heat will leave the earth rapidly. We arrive in the town of Mexia, where there is a different control than on the outbound. We negotiate our way through a rather busy downtown area to a hamburger place named "Whattaburger." The small lead group is there. Michael, one of the two recumbent riders on the ride is working on a flat. The others appear to be waiting for him. Shortly thereafter Dan, Janet and Vickie, the other recumbent rider, arrive as well. I have a cup of coffee while waiting for Paul to mix up his magic potions which allow him to undertake long rides without solid food. When we are ready to leave there are still some riders in the control. Paul, John and I head back out no one else is ready. The next control is Dawson which has a store that closes at 11pm. The official closing time is later, but beyond 11pm there is no way to re-supply anything. One would need to go the full 54 miles without opportunity to get food or water. We should have no problem making it in time.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdVd2VMJ3Q5CYyatRBLaQjk6T9YF2nOeFJMK9ImGuoqpemzFXwwvCc96AW3pjzZb9tebMlOgB64wyL9IvY0afvyCegyn1nvBwR2LCu-i8MS-x7qlhjM9QljKtblbe2PloGOkJ98MEBN_A/s1600/LSR+600k+024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdVd2VMJ3Q5CYyatRBLaQjk6T9YF2nOeFJMK9ImGuoqpemzFXwwvCc96AW3pjzZb9tebMlOgB64wyL9IvY0afvyCegyn1nvBwR2LCu-i8MS-x7qlhjM9QljKtblbe2PloGOkJ98MEBN_A/s400/LSR+600k+024.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>Making t<span style="font-size: small;">he push to <span style="font-size: small;">Dawson</span></span></b></i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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After only a couple of miles on busy US-171 John has a flat tire on the rear of his bike. On the shoulder of the road, with high speed traffic buzzing by, Paul and I help him get it changed. Dan and Janet pass by while we are stopped. Once back underway it is a relief to turn off onto the quiet Farm Roads away from the traffic. We have covered about 175 miles so far. Day one will conclude at the motel at 220 miles. The next day, although shorter in mileage will be much hillier. Also, the word is that the weather prediction is for high winds. Which for the outbound section will be unfavorable. To make things worse the morning temperature will be sub-forty. Getting some rest will be important to face the challenges of wind and cold in the morning. The hills might actually be a plus. The Farm Roads lead us the control in Dawson in plenty of time. Everyone has made it before the store closing, which is good news. Without spending too much time we head out for the final leg of the day.<br />
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After some miles on a somewhat busy State Highway 31 we are back on Farm Roads. The temperature has steadily fallen. I'm feeling pretty chilled. Knowing we are knocking off the final miles to a hot shower and warm bed keeps me going. Most of our time is spent on FM 667 which features the same chip and seal road surface as most of the other roads. I've become somewhat conditioned to it and am no longer bothered by the vibration and reduced speed. I rejoice when we reach the left turn which takes us through the small downtown area of Italy. Our motel is just the other side of the Interstate. Dan and Stephen are waiting for us at the finish to sign our brevet cards. We agree to meet in the morning at 6am to start day two. Meanwhile, for me it's food, shower and sleep, in that order.<br />
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<b>LSR 600 - Day 2</b><br />
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The agreed meeting place for our group to begin day two is conveniently at the McDonald's just beneath our motel. I'm having a bowl of oatmeal. The temperature is a bit colder than the prior day's start. John arrives and we talk about today's ride. Mostly how to deal with the high wind predication. Paul arrives just prior to our start time. By 6am the group is gathered and nine riders take to the roads. Starting out I feel the chip and seal road surface immediately. I guess it will take some time to re-condition myself to it. The pace this morning is considerably milder than the start of day one. A few hours sleep does not erase the two-hundred and twenty miles already accumulated in one's legs. After a few miles we see Matt coming at us at the end of his 400k. I can't help but think it must have been a long, cold and lonely night for him out on the Texas Prairie. I'm happy to know he made it safely with a few hours to spare.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KfhjYDOcQb0/UMCjRmjujTI/AAAAAAAABv4/mqPnmJ8d41k/s1600/LSR+600k+022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KfhjYDOcQb0/UMCjRmjujTI/AAAAAAAABv4/mqPnmJ8d41k/s400/LSR+600k+022.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>Sun Rise on <span style="font-size: small;">the <span style="font-size: small;">prairie</span></span></b></i></span></td></tr>
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As the sun begins to make an appearance so do the rolling hills. I don't mind them, my only thought is to get warm. The hills and the sun should help. Although, the ever increasing wind does not. Before there is much chance for the sun to do it's thing clouds roll in blocking the effect. The wind continues to increase as do the rollers. The first control is in Wortham, a fifty-two mile first leg. To block out some of the misery I strictly focus on making it to there. I mentally pretend that my ride will finish there. Which it will, for a brief time. I then can re-focus on the next control. But I don't have to think about that now. I've just got to get to Wortham and all will be well.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Uy92iETzhN8/UMCjMlflx5I/AAAAAAAABvg/HlEhCtDbFkw/s1600/LSR+600k+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Uy92iETzhN8/UMCjMlflx5I/AAAAAAAABvg/HlEhCtDbFkw/s400/LSR+600k+019.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Power Generating plant ahead</span></b></i></td></tr>
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The group has split up somewhat. Vickie, one the recumbent riders, held back waiting for two riders who started late. Michael on the other recumbent has gone ahead, as did the tandem. Dan and Janet are more or less riding with the three of us. Until the point that Dan asks us to go ahead. He explains that Janet needs to climb the rollers more conservatively and it would be better if we split up. We put a small gap on them, but they are not far behind. I notice on one of the farm roads a speed limit sign of 70 miles per hour. I am amazed that a two lane undivided road would be posted so high. The cars and trucks fly by, but, they all give us plenty of room. It is not an uncomfortable feeling. Texans are by and large very courteous. It's seems inherent in their culture.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnB5kUWBTeD4JkI8pFDqlWvIN69WTMdObrUht1L3c87jqEYoYmhre-oRaAMsh_4scEZgQvUHiuphXoY4aEOO-2FNJidtUXGh9w39-g8uAIGOuqpl4Db5BZIdk6jbWPpivqRQ0OM8H8v8/s1600/LSR+600k+038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnB5kUWBTeD4JkI8pFDqlWvIN69WTMdObrUht1L3c87jqEYoYmhre-oRaAMsh_4scEZgQvUHiuphXoY4aEOO-2FNJidtUXGh9w39-g8uAIGOuqpl4Db5BZIdk6jbWPpivqRQ0OM8H8v8/s400/LSR+600k+038.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Houses come with lots of open space around</span></b></i></td></tr>
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The rollers continue, the sun stays hidden by clouds, and the wind is ever increasing. Despite it all we arrive at my finish line in Wortham in good time. We take a bit longer than our usual 10 minute break. I use the time to wrap my mind around the concept of riding a short 23 miles to the next control in Prairie Hill. As an added mental incentive that will represent the half-way point for the day. Every mile from there will be in the direction of Italy and the finish. I'm practically smiling as we ride out.<br />
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There are only three roads involved with the next leg. They all feature similar terrain and road surface, somewhat hilly and chip sealed. Wide tires and cushy handlebar tape are good equipment in this part of Texas. I'm happy I brought the fixie with the Specialized 25mm's and the Bar Phat tape. I have had no issues other than moving along a little slower than preferred.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKGtXiRfSQeHRUGzUg0lDY1mf6NKoSvVZt-15FLdbNmnGnezLTszjXfcfzIy20KalPNEC7C9G4MR52yt81ucQK8DG4ENvydqzLb3PSFsy6eYtpjzC6n-c0htkK1iVWpQT-68gO0V9mPVA/s1600/LSR+600k+035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKGtXiRfSQeHRUGzUg0lDY1mf6NKoSvVZt-15FLdbNmnGnezLTszjXfcfzIy20KalPNEC7C9G4MR52yt81ucQK8DG4ENvydqzLb3PSFsy6eYtpjzC6n-c0htkK1iVWpQT-68gO0V9mPVA/s400/LSR+600k+035.JPG" width="297" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Paul with 'bent rider Michael ahead</span></b></i></td></tr>
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The rhythm of the fixed-gear is a bit different on rolling terrain. Both John and Paul are riding gears. Every hill they are gearing down, spinning, while I am standing up, hammering to stay on top of my gear. On the downside of the hill the geared bikes typically pass by. John takes this to mean I am not cooperating very well riding along with them. I overhear him commenting to Paul about it. I try my best to explain my motives hoping he understands. I don't mean to frustrate anyone, but I know of no other way to ride fixed. <br />
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As we near the control we see Gary and Charlie, the lead riders, heading back to Wortham. Vicky on the recumbent, now riding alone, is not far behind them. We arrive at the Sunmart in Prairie Hill, which is today's turn-around. Stephen and Sharon with the tandem are there, as is Michael on the other recumbent. I am being bothered by a case of hot-feet. I purchase a bag of ice and sit outside with both feet resting on the cold plastic bag. Since the day has warmed considerably it is not uncomfortable to be using the ice. After a rather long break we head out as a group following the same roads back to Wortham.<br />
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Given the reversal of direction we now can enjoy some assistance from the wind. It is noticeable as we work our way up the back side of the same hills. The terrain feels flatter this way thanks to the invisible helping hand from the wind. Combined with the comfortable temperature I am enjoying myself as much as it is possible for a person with three-hundred miles in their legs. On the flat ground the geared bikes are at an advantage with the tailwind. With just the one gear I have to spin faster to keep up. No matter, as no one is complaining. It is all good. We arrive in Wortham having dwindled to just four of us. The tandem along with Dan and Janet are slightly behind.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGLMak9kFRknG82evpF_rZPXuzNocSUUy9LowFpSYffhoT0wviziinypV4hevYxVGjKZ_qjTYiS556hBZqqLbUFZSF7MdIyy907Eok_I1qQr_mtx_OPV8vIMSX3Hr-MZcs9ml9uHNRrME/s1600/LSR+600k+034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGLMak9kFRknG82evpF_rZPXuzNocSUUy9LowFpSYffhoT0wviziinypV4hevYxVGjKZ_qjTYiS556hBZqqLbUFZSF7MdIyy907Eok_I1qQr_mtx_OPV8vIMSX3Hr-MZcs9ml9uHNRrME/s400/LSR+600k+034.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Janet on her way to first 600k finish</span></b></i></td></tr>
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The final leg is fifty-two miles to the finish. The cue sheet shows an optional stop at a store which is thirty six miles. We decide we can make it there before resorting to night gear. It is back to the all familiar Farm Roads for the next leg. The wind has not deserted us. The three of us move along quite well. The miles tick off uneventfully as the sun is quickly on it's way down. The skies are overcast further diminishing the light somewhat. There is a question as to whether we can make the store before it's too dark to continue without night gear. I maintain that we'll make it as there is still plenty of useable daylight with only five miles to go. I'm actually happy about the cloud cover as that will help hold the earth's heat in after sunset keeping us warmer to the finish. We pull in to the store just before 5pm which is sunset. We have 16 miles to the finish. Michael is already at the store. We are expecting more riders, but no one comes in. Since the store is slightly off the route we don't see them pass by. The four of us depart together. Most of the miles to the end are on FM-55. We move along very well with John pulling the group much of the time. We notice some bike tail lights way up in the distance. After a few miles they seem a little closer and we can tell they are two bike riding together. We ramp up the pace a bit and ever so slowly reel them closer. It takes a long time before we are with them with John taking a ferocious final pull to bridge the gap. The riders are Dan and Janet. With about five miles to go we fall into pace with them. It seems appropriate to finish together. We ride and chat enjoying the pleasant night. We pass through the small downtown of Italy and continue to the other side of the interstate. We make room for Janet, the first time 600k finisher, to move to the front. She notices her husband waiting for her at the control and sprints right for him. I remember the feeling of finishing that first long ride. What a blast! With our brevet cards signed and surrendered we immediately look for food. There is a pizza place across the street. A group of us including Dan, Sharon, Mike and Stephen head over there. We have a nice time eating and chatting like old friends. Did I mention how nice this group of people are? <br />
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<b>Epilogue:</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb7LleXFwyaExKZ8_ZZxVCLwKov04AmAe6nVIogBCYc9G_Kayn5jusj_Ff3Hzu-I66sFi1GjhE2DkwfcpjEjMVb1HhU3FMve4Fns9sqh3rvRceLb9Ppao4k-2TRpsSyjss4z5lJ46BXug/s1600/LSR+600k+016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb7LleXFwyaExKZ8_ZZxVCLwKov04AmAe6nVIogBCYc9G_Kayn5jusj_Ff3Hzu-I66sFi1GjhE2DkwfcpjEjMVb1HhU3FMve4Fns9sqh3rvRceLb9Ppao4k-2TRpsSyjss4z5lJ46BXug/s400/LSR+600k+016.JPG" width="297" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Dan <span style="font-size: small;">sporting</span> Texas Rando Stampede 1200k jersey</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Anyone who has been riding brevets for a time is aware of The Lone Star Randonneurs. Their group cranks out more RUSA kilometers, per person, than any other in the US. They developed the K-Hound award as an incentive to get their members out riding more. It is now offered nationwide to all RUSA members. One qualifies by riding 10,000 kilometers, or more, of brevets and permanents, in a year. It is not unusual for a few K-Hounds to ride double or triple the minimum number. Which is referred to as "Double Dog" and "Triple Dog". Also, it is common for LSR riders to complete five to nine Super Randonneur Series' in a single year. They are highly committed to their goals, and extremely supportive of each other. Dan Driscoll, the RBA for the region, delights in motivating others to reach higher levels. He spent the entire ride ensuring that one rider made it through her first 600k successfully. Another potential K-Hound in the making. Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-69674023842160149272012-10-25T11:10:00.002-07:002012-10-25T11:10:58.375-07:00PA 200k - The K-Hound Ride<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Just past the middle of October my RUSA kilometer total reached an even 9800k. Just 200k away from K-Hound status. I'd ridden so many permanents lately that I had a hankering for a regular brevet. As luck would have it the PA Randonneurs were hosting 200 and 150 kilometer rides on Saturday. There is generally a good turn-out for their rides, and, I might even know some of the riders. I informed the RBA, Tom Rosenbauer, I would be coming. Remembering how hilly the PA rides are I checked the route profile only to have my stomach tighten when I saw the elevation gain to be over 10,000 feet. Shortly after I received an e-mail from Tom confirming my entry and suggesting I bring low gears. He was not aware that I've been only riding fixed-gear this year. I felt committed to the ride but could not help being a bit nervous about it.<br />
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I undertook the drive to Quakertown early in the morning to arrive at the Weisel Youth Hostel in time for breakfast. A nice array of foods were on offer including hot oatmeal. There were a few riders milling about that I did indeed know, although most of them were doing the 150k. That option seemed very reasonable to me, but would fall short of the total I needed. I remained committed to the 200k. A regular PA rider, Johnathan, recognized me and inquired if I was riding fixed. I confirmed that I was to which he replied with just two words, "Fox Gap", referring to the 1,000 foot climb that appears at mile fifty-five. I simply shrugged admitting that I expected to struggle.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWvyNoylbTLtiQa2kjUHERmVHAh459vtuqa1EbFF6D6msRixIOSNGPzKIIS8LCIJp1O_I6Z1LFfC6B_LHeUDySGHmg1mHTJr3nO8Hnc8NOJRlyYDyqmNiB30LDPB8tDoFrlMRJ3rMWIgs/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWvyNoylbTLtiQa2kjUHERmVHAh459vtuqa1EbFF6D6msRixIOSNGPzKIIS8LCIJp1O_I6Z1LFfC6B_LHeUDySGHmg1mHTJr3nO8Hnc8NOJRlyYDyqmNiB30LDPB8tDoFrlMRJ3rMWIgs/s400/002.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Riders milling about at the start. Weisel Youth Hostel, Quakertown, PA</span></b></i></td></tr>
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I line up with my bike out in front of the building and chat with Chris, a rider from my area. I would enjoy riding with Chris but she is on the 150k which is mostly on different roads. Tom makes a few last minute announcements and gives us the off signal. The group works it's way out on the hard pack dirt driveway to Richlandtown road. The first miles are on reasonably gentle rolling terrain. A nice warm-up for a rather perfect day. The current temperature is in the fifties with the high expected in the low sixties. At mile fifteen we make the first of several Deleware River crossings at Riegelsville, PA. A left turn is made onto River Road after the bridge to parallel the river riding on the New Jersey side. We continue to Phillipsburg where we re-cross the river to Easton, PA. The climbing begins in earnest passing Lafayette college. The rhythm of the fixed gear has not allowed me to match pace with anyone. I'm riding alone somewhere near the back of the 200k riders, which is where I generally am in the early miles. Typically I work my way further up the field later on by taking short breaks at the controls and picking up my pace as the day goes on. I roll into the first control at Wind Gap, Pa. There is no one there. I am in and out in ten minutes heading for the top of Wind Gap, and the first of two Appalachian Trail crossings.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlBZb0bwANMUvCOtS18EQPyZO3CNIF98o115Aorb4GfQJSig03bUMFikf4tKglfz6dOtu-86gtXIx8o8I_R348PvDIM_u50a0Fnyt75Cq7wsq-sXu9j0I95Zd0HGXiLCj7yLCWOts5iJ4/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlBZb0bwANMUvCOtS18EQPyZO3CNIF98o115Aorb4GfQJSig03bUMFikf4tKglfz6dOtu-86gtXIx8o8I_R348PvDIM_u50a0Fnyt75Cq7wsq-sXu9j0I95Zd0HGXiLCj7yLCWOts5iJ4/s400/003.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Crossing the Appalachian Trail</span></b></i></td></tr>
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I move well up Wind Gap snapping a photo of the A.T. sign while rolling along. I'm relying on the cue sheet for all navigation as my Garmin froze up after only fifteen miles. Things go along well until I miss-read a cue and pass by a turn on Cherry Vally Road. I ride ahead through a construction zone. I cover more than a mile before I realize my mistake and backtrack to the point of the error. From there I manage to navigate flawlessly to the climb up Fox Gap. As I work my way up the two mile climb my focus is on attempting to stay up for the entire time. I make it about 75% of the way before walking becomes inevitable on a particularly steep pitch. About fifty yards later I find a driveway to re-start from and continue on the bike. Shortly I find myself walking again for another brief stretch, Another conveniently located driveway provides my re-start point. The road is heavily trafficked making traversing impossible. I might have made it without walking had it been a quieter road. I crest the mountain, crossing the Appalachian Trail for a second time, and begin the fast descent down the other side. I concentrate on spinning at maximum RPM. After a few minutes I think to look at the cue sheet for the next cue. It is an information control followed by a left turn at the TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN!!! I am now almost at the bottom and I've passed by a control and a turn. I need to climb all the way back to the top. I can't believe I could be so stupid as to not have read the cue sheet before this point. That is just basic navigation which one would think I'd have learned by now. I find a spot to make a U-Turn and begin the grind back up. Fortunately the grade is milder on this side and I do not have to walk. I find the sign-post, which is a "truck on cheese" warning. I answer the question. Then ride down 0.1 to the turn on Fox Gap Road which puts me back on course headed for the Portland control nine miles away.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq6oOxJlK7Hn4NLo-vIU43d4uXOIvZ0C7pGEDVTexgsgbhVp2U2PmJFg5Jd2AqaaYBIPSWOSsLN1Ah5fqirjHB_gciQ83UWU6fyoQsTwTPWUs6D4fUIoNPUxRgICxYLso3eVNE70OrhAA/s1600/012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq6oOxJlK7Hn4NLo-vIU43d4uXOIvZ0C7pGEDVTexgsgbhVp2U2PmJFg5Jd2AqaaYBIPSWOSsLN1Ah5fqirjHB_gciQ83UWU6fyoQsTwTPWUs6D4fUIoNPUxRgICxYLso3eVNE70OrhAA/s400/012.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Information control at the top of Fox Gap</span></b></i></td></tr>
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After the descent on Fox Gap Road the terrain is mild and pleasant. Country lanes with low traffic are enjoyed for this short section. I arrive at the town of Portland and make a left on Route 611 which is the main street through the tiny downtown area. I've got a keen eye out for the control, a Citgo Mart on the right. I pass a gas/mart on the right but the name is not Citgo, it is Jersey East, or something like that. I continue on and am quickly riding next to the river with nothing ahead but trees. The town is behind me. After about a mile I realize there is only more of nothing, no market would be located out here and turn back to the town. I stop at the Jersey East market asking the clerk if it was a Citgo at one time. She confirmed it was and is still referred to as a Citgo by all the locals. It's not the first time I have come across that type of cue sheet oddity. I re-fill water bottles and head back out lamenting about all the time I've lost to mistakes on this ride, mostly my own. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghJrZ89SqIkIErLIMR_X26AtF7L-m0umGSqrHnQzIPmMKDbm58l0wr1K_JXnhyphenhyphen38ZjbibgsbZ5ZLbN7xRLTargk1I-dM_0WWp4IKavtD3MqEPWchwXTSqYUVI5RXByfWrM_XdZF9YASno/s1600/008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghJrZ89SqIkIErLIMR_X26AtF7L-m0umGSqrHnQzIPmMKDbm58l0wr1K_JXnhyphenhyphen38ZjbibgsbZ5ZLbN7xRLTargk1I-dM_0WWp4IKavtD3MqEPWchwXTSqYUVI5RXByfWrM_XdZF9YASno/s400/008.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">When not climbing there are always mountains to look at.</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Leaving the control the cue sheet directs me back through the town. mostly along the river, to a bridge crossing which delivers me to Belvedere, NJ. After a couple of quick turns I find myself following the river on Foul Rift Road. I can't help but wonder why in the world anyone would name a road "Foul Rift"? After a mile or so the answer comes to me in the form of a large cooling tower for a Nuclear Power Plant. It's situated on the banks of the river right next to the road. I get the joke. There are some homes on the road. I'm betting the residents aren't exactly in love with their address. Sort of lacks that pleasant ring to it like say "Deer Run Road", "Shady Tree Lane" or "Apple Blossom Way". I quickly cease thinking about these things as Foul Rift kicks up to a very steep, but kind of short hill. I can confirm that being in close proximity to a nuke plant does little in the way of adding strength to one's legs. I had always thought that the Incredible Hulk got his strength from
exposure to nuclear radiation. I assume one must actually be directly exposed to
the reactor core to get the effect. None the less I manage the hill without dismounting. The remaining mileage to the control in Bloomsbury is pleasant and uneventful. I arrive at the quiet general store needing only to re-fill a water bottle. I have given up hope long ago of catching up with any other riders. The extra mileage, combined with slow climbing and descending have relegated me to the position of Lantern Rouge. At this point I'll be happy just to finish without too much riding after sun down.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGSvH66lHWqyowPpof_gILVX5u0s1OM2RUVBu5zCjHjJAcVcwN49XgBRh75PBhn6ABRYS6pk7jIu1iaJ7ICD4ROn9bcv2tjp3N8iyI9i_-sQ8jzCPXvlDe0v9Z3g4sGS1mY9o9kHZvc90/s1600/034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGSvH66lHWqyowPpof_gILVX5u0s1OM2RUVBu5zCjHjJAcVcwN49XgBRh75PBhn6ABRYS6pk7jIu1iaJ7ICD4ROn9bcv2tjp3N8iyI9i_-sQ8jzCPXvlDe0v9Z3g4sGS1mY9o9kHZvc90/s400/034.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">The sun on it's way down.</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<i><b><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></b></i>I'm out of the control within five minutes. After only one half mile I hit Milford Road. Th<span style="font-size: small;">is</span> last section is supposed to be quite challenging. Milford Road kicks up very steep, then merges into Staats Road which is also quite steep and long. I manage the climb by traversing on some of the steeper parts. It's about two miles of tough grinding and I'm very pleased that I made it all the way without clipping out. There is a pleasant descent down Sweet Hollow Road which soon after I cross the Deleware at the Milford bridge back into Pennsylvania. After a brief run along the river on Route 32 I'm directed on Red Cliff Road a wall of hill which I cannot manage without walking. This is followed by another steep kick on Upper Tinicum Church Road. After some descending a turn is made on Geigel Hill Road. This starts out very mild for a portion of it's three mile length. Just as it lulls one into complacency it rears up to be incredibly steep. Once again I find myself on my feet pushing the bike until the grade lessens. After descending into the valley the terrain is mild until the last few miles of the route. After a shorter manageable climb up Elephant Road I find myself at Lake Nockimixon. I notice that the official time for sun down is just a few minutes away. To comply with the rules I stop to put on reflective gear and turn on my lighting. The finish is just on the other side of the lake. To get there requires one more climb on Route 313, which I've done many times before. It goes by easily and I arrive at the youth hostel just minutes later. There is still a small amount of daylight left. Tom appears happy to see me. With my arrival the finish percentage became 100%. My time is 10 hours and 58 minutes. I'm happy to have finished what is my most challenging fixed-gear 200k to date. Also, I'm thrilled to have earned the K-Hound award for the second time. <br />
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<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Epilogue</span>, Plans and Goa<span style="font-size: small;">ls</span></span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I've <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">done</span> far more s<span style="font-size: small;">olo <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">riding </span>th<span style="font-size: small;">is year than e<span style="font-size: small;">ver before. <span style="font-size: small;">The <span style="font-size: small;">fixed-<span style="font-size: small;">gear<span style="font-size: small;"> i<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">s isola<span style="font-size: small;">ting<span style="font-size: small;">, unl<span style="font-size: small;">ess riding with other fix<span style="font-size: small;">ies. </span></span></span></span></span> <span style="font-size: small;">I en<span style="font-size: small;">j<span style="font-size: small;">oy rid<span style="font-size: small;">ing with others</span>, <span style="font-size: small;">but have<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">learned to appreciat<span style="font-size: small;">e <span style="font-size: small;">being alone as well. I'm n<span style="font-size: small;">ot reliant on companionship to enjoy a long<span style="font-size: small;"> day o<span style="font-size: small;">n the bike.<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> I<span style="font-size: small;">'ve </span>become <span style="font-size: small;">proficient</span> <span style="font-size: small;">a<span style="font-size: small;">t controls. <span style="font-size: small;">Managing to </span> keep my<span style="font-size: small;"> time off the b<span style="font-size: small;">ike to a bare <span style="font-size: small;">minimum</span> on most ri<span style="font-size: small;">des<span style="font-size: small;">. <span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;"> Due to a<span style="font-size: small;">n affliction known as ADD I've not been the be<span style="font-size: small;">st at<span style="font-size: small;"> navi<span style="font-size: small;">ga<span style="font-size: small;">t<span style="font-size: small;">ion. <span style="font-size: small;">When <span style="font-size: small;">I ride a new route, <span style="font-size: small;">alone, it is <span style="font-size: small;">high</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">ly possible, even likely, I wi<span style="font-size: small;">ll make an error<span style="font-size: small;"> adding <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">additional</span> miles <span style="font-size: small;">to the distance</span></span></span>. Usually i<span style="font-size: small;">t is a miss-rea<span style="font-size: small;">d of the cue sheet<span style="font-size: small;"> tha<span style="font-size: small;">t causes thi<span style="font-size: small;">s<span style="font-size: small;">.<span style="font-size: small;"> I've since purchased a Ga<span style="font-size: small;">rmin<span style="font-size: small;"> and am slowly learning how to use it. <span style="font-size: small;">Hopefully, this will help<span style="font-size: small;">, but it is not <span style="font-size: small;">a<span style="font-size: small;"> simple <span style="font-size: small;">device to<span style="font-size: small;"> use.<span style="font-size: small;"> A<span style="font-size: small;">t <span style="font-size: small;">least not <span style="font-size: small;">fo<span style="font-size: small;">r me. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">It was <span style="font-size: small;">satisfying to reach the K-Houn<span style="font-size: small;">d level a<span style="font-size: small;">gain this year. With the diff<span style="font-size: small;">eren<span style="font-size: small;">ce being that I have ridden only fixed<span style="font-size: small;">-gear for <span style="font-size: small;">every kilometer <span style="font-size: small;">in <span style="font-size: small;">2<span style="font-size: small;">012. I am planning to travel to Texas next month for a 600k hosted <span style="font-size: small;">by the Lone St<span style="font-size: small;">ar <span style="font-size: small;">Randonneurs<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">, <span style="font-size: small;">the</span> or<span style="font-size: small;">igin<span style="font-size: small;">al K-hounds<span style="font-size: small;">. I'm much looking forward to mee<span style="font-size: small;">ting <span style="font-size: small;">them,<span style="font-size: small;"> and riding with their <span style="font-size: small;">group. <span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">T<span style="font-size: small;">o <span style="font-size: small;">finish off the <span style="font-size: small;">year I hope to ride a<span style="font-size: small;">t least <span style="font-size: small;">1,000 mo<span style="font-size: small;">re<span style="font-size: small;"> official</span> kilometers which wil<span style="font-size: small;">l <span style="font-size: small;">put my <span style="font-size: small;">all time RUSA <span style="font-size: small;">to<span style="font-size: small;">tal t<span style="font-size: small;">o 40,000</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">, whi<span style="font-size: small;">ch is know<span style="font-size: small;">n<span style="font-size: small;"> a</span>s <span style="font-size: small;">the Mondial</span></span></span></span> level.<span style="font-size: small;"> A finish of the <span style="font-size: small;">Dallas 600k will complet<span style="font-size: small;">e a se<span style="font-size: small;">cond SR <span style="font-size: small;">Series for me, this year<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">.</span> Two thousan<span style="font-size: small;">d more <span style="font-size: small;">fixed<span style="font-size: small;">-gear</span></span> miles <span style="font-size: small;">by t<span style="font-size: small;">he year en<span style="font-size: small;">d </span></span></span>will <span style="font-size: small;">bring my tot<span style="font-size: small;">al <span style="font-size: small;">to 1<span style="font-size: small;">4,000</span></span></span></span></span></span> for</span> 2012. The R<span style="font-size: small;">-12 que<span style="font-size: small;">s<span style="font-size: small;">t <span style="font-size: small;">is s<span style="font-size: small;">till int<span style="font-size: small;">a<span style="font-size: small;">ct with 45 consecut<span style="font-size: small;">ive months accumulated so far. The P-12 s<span style="font-size: small;">tands at 22<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">consecutive<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span> months. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>All o<span style="font-size: small;">f it is </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;">lots of <span style="font-size: small;">motivation<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span> to keep me ri<span style="font-size: small;">ding<span style="font-size: small;"> as <span style="font-size: small;">the wea<span style="font-size: small;">ther <span style="font-size: small;">turn<span style="font-size: small;">s colder<span style="font-size: small;">.<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFLcuON0NGLpFs2Zalfrf0ulwr2Ygei1VzZbWdDD-31ih0XnyqgsOZX74011gxOsqMj4hcUG6y6eHlyKbUMCVOdl15mrZn6LyD8p9RRHKTfFNUhnAn_Lq08fLKXgDyC4TyUHJBWMZTRYM/s1600/022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFLcuON0NGLpFs2Zalfrf0ulwr2Ygei1VzZbWdDD-31ih0XnyqgsOZX74011gxOsqMj4hcUG6y6eHlyKbUMCVOdl15mrZn6LyD8p9RRHKTfFNUhnAn_Lq08fLKXgDyC4TyUHJBWMZTRYM/s200/022.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">Boo-ya!</span></b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-71331896887000457222012-09-14T16:42:00.003-07:002012-09-14T16:42:34.870-07:00New Jersey State Record Crossing (East to West)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitrtAnuj7yzlx-zj-_QZ3gcpS2DZ5Tsc2Pfz8jnZiBeMV6J7qW69ML2-_vWt-1UZ27ePn_HAKnA9fOhVELrlL48i4A5kOdLnarkCKvGd3tN2L-LjkwdvVka_lzZVExG9fgP_i8JwzlMoc/s1600/010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitrtAnuj7yzlx-zj-_QZ3gcpS2DZ5Tsc2Pfz8jnZiBeMV6J7qW69ML2-_vWt-1UZ27ePn_HAKnA9fOhVELrlL48i4A5kOdLnarkCKvGd3tN2L-LjkwdvVka_lzZVExG9fgP_i8JwzlMoc/s400/010.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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The wind feels cool blowing through my one piece cycling suit. It's just a few minutes past eight on a cloudy Sunday morning. The aforementioned wind is coming off the Great Bay in Little Egg Harbor Township, New Jersey. I'm at the center of a small gathering making final preparations to ride my bike to the western end of the state where the pavement will end at the Delaware River, some eighty miles from the starting point. The purpose of the gathering is to attempt to break a standing UMCA record for crossing the state from east to west. That record stands at 5 hours, 55 minutes. I'm hoping to beat that time by a substantial margin, perhaps an hour or more.<br />
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At thirteen minutes past the hour I'm ready to go. My nervousness begins to fade away as I turn the pedals on the Specialized Langster fixed gear. My wife, son and David, the UMCA official, pile into the follow vehicle to trail behind me. This is a requirement for a UMCA record. I question whether it will be a distraction. As it turns out I quickly forget it's there. Focusing on maintaining a brisk pace for the miles ahead requires most of my concentration. With the remaining mental capacity I am making sure I don't miss a turn. I am to stay on Great Bay Boulevard for over six miles. The area is very open and quiet at this early hour. I can see the water to my left. There are multiple narrow bridges with traffic lights to ensure no two vehicles meet on the wooden section, which is only wide enough for one vehicle. The UMCA rules require adherence to all traffic laws. I lose a couple of minutes waiting at these lights, even though no vehicle comes through. After crossing US-9 I am headed to the heart of the Pine Barrens region. This is a good place to be when the wind direction is opposite of helpful. The trees make a nice blockade allowing a steady pace to be maintained. My goal is to manage the full distance without a stop.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJrgmBVdbSNSzcEOLNRNrPu4WFIkiRbLwaoxarOm8y8P3-xzWgqifi_UIP6zXQoDMMmc6mQa4qYzh3jLzDqkhyJ7mqFTaQh_7USYDakeXmumKW5eGzc_XYIQU-_Lcn5QE37E-u3ZXOcaI/s1600/013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJrgmBVdbSNSzcEOLNRNrPu4WFIkiRbLwaoxarOm8y8P3-xzWgqifi_UIP6zXQoDMMmc6mQa4qYzh3jLzDqkhyJ7mqFTaQh_7USYDakeXmumKW5eGzc_XYIQU-_Lcn5QE37E-u3ZXOcaI/s400/013.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Waiting at one of many traffic light crossings</span></b></i></td></tr>
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With the follow car safely in tow we roll through Green Bank and Elwood arriving at US 322, White Horse Pike. Thirty-two miles are behind us, we remain on target. After crossing the highway at a jug-handle intersection on Malaga Road I signal my crew for a hand-off water bottle. We never practiced this from the moving vehicle, we only discussed the safest way to do it. The exchange goes smoothly with little to no time delay. My wife is the support person in the back of the HHR. She is responsible for hand-offs and is helping me with navigation. Periodically small slips of paper with turns for the next ten to twenty miles are passed to me. I clip them to the bar to keep track of the route. When we pass the forty mile point without any major mishap my confidence begins to soar. I had driven the route two weeks ago. Doing so is proving extremely useful as I recognize many of the landmarks where turns are located. Combined with the small cue-sheets I'm being handed from the support crew all is going smoothly. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ1G4GPN642Q25lbRXBKAbZmpuBXivuh3mu0xSKlhZvh4gJSJAYQObuq_kZ5qGq8CLULYZaMPr7UP9mbQxmEXAYnAHANlsUJ0FikQhI6YlFNE5qhyphenhyphenOUUG3A2OIHq3baH2AIM6Hnz0fgVA/s1600/followcar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ1G4GPN642Q25lbRXBKAbZmpuBXivuh3mu0xSKlhZvh4gJSJAYQObuq_kZ5qGq8CLULYZaMPr7UP9mbQxmEXAYnAHANlsUJ0FikQhI6YlFNE5qhyphenhyphenOUUG3A2OIHq3baH2AIM6Hnz0fgVA/s400/followcar.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Official UMCA follow vehicle</span></b></i></td></tr>
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After a sixteen mile stretch on a single county road, CR 690, we find ourselves close to fifty miles. With about thirty left to the finish. It looks as if we are going to shatter the record. Although, I'm trying hard to block out that thought. I think about the expression "counting chickens before they hatch". I need to concentrate on nothing but staying on course and giving what I can to the momentum of the bike. </div>
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Soon enough I begin to see the cooling tower of the Salem Nuclear Plant looming up ahead with steam steadily flowing from it's top. Our destination is quite near the plant, which uses the Delaware River to cool the reactor core. The wind has picked up quite a bit, and for now, I am right into it. With about ten miles left I pick up my effort to compensate. Mostly, it is effective. My average speed is holding fairly well. </div>
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The final miles are exposed land, mostly corn fields. When the turn for Fort Elfsborg road comes up I know we are within a few miles of the end. The road twists its way through some farmland and makes a hard left to become a residential road. I fly by the small houses until the tiny park at the end of the road is in sight. Not much point in sprinting , but, for the benefit of the crew I pump my fist int he air as I hit the transition from road to dirt, which is where the land yields to the river. We have taken more than 1.5 hours off of the existing record using a fixed-gear bike. Needless to say we are a happy little group at the finish. The finish time is 4 hours, 27 minutes. </div>
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Epilouge:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGFnD4UGrgpn11-UNVDbdRH90Gwt3zWVTQ5I055QhOU5M-hd04OulnYOlse16cvd1JbC7d-Dy9Ccvp65uqSgrj8Pme6apx5uLOscRX92K3pj3UQygq2v4L7dHHIhv9afmsfQJ-_Wrumnw/s1600/020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGFnD4UGrgpn11-UNVDbdRH90Gwt3zWVTQ5I055QhOU5M-hd04OulnYOlse16cvd1JbC7d-Dy9Ccvp65uqSgrj8Pme6apx5uLOscRX92K3pj3UQygq2v4L7dHHIhv9afmsfQJ-_Wrumnw/s400/020.JPG" width="297" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">At the finish on the Delaware River. Notice the flags.</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyh4zAg_m489PYSxcTI4wu2F_pSL2paWVXYnAH9TQz4GeRmoA8ja-Euxh4MXNEGAWjkBrZQo0uhB4mOQkJVr0vOUPgO5GLlT4DjGAUPUvkfjb_bwLiSvpztvFWmoAJvJbS9z0w8r0mZU8/s1600/015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyh4zAg_m489PYSxcTI4wu2F_pSL2paWVXYnAH9TQz4GeRmoA8ja-Euxh4MXNEGAWjkBrZQo0uhB4mOQkJVr0vOUPgO5GLlT4DjGAUPUvkfjb_bwLiSvpztvFWmoAJvJbS9z0w8r0mZU8/s400/015.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">A hug for the crew chief and vehicle driver, my son Charlie</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJAIXcemkjgrPJKdPwkV3LtttSo5am1RGzQO70LsHuE2MrfhI0EcxSZzUPywuXAzd5a-0_eVnSCTB5ulzyjQZ9_zHZOaFetS9zPtmfc-4NqIwyXEtl6Evi-WMUsUEtGXrvjOP2yZ_7TtE/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJAIXcemkjgrPJKdPwkV3LtttSo5am1RGzQO70LsHuE2MrfhI0EcxSZzUPywuXAzd5a-0_eVnSCTB5ulzyjQZ9_zHZOaFetS9zPtmfc-4NqIwyXEtl6Evi-WMUsUEtGXrvjOP2yZ_7TtE/s400/018.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Left to right: David, UMCA Official, Charlie (son), Crew Chief, Lucy (wife) support crew </span></b></i></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
A UMCA event is an unusual practice for me. The past seven years have been largely spent randoneuriing. While much has been accomplished in that time the repetitiveness of the activity can make one weary. Something different than the routine can be refreshing. Preparing for the record attempt took incredible time and energy. And, much of it was off the bike. In fact, meeting the UMCA paperwork and vehicle signage requirements where quite time consuming. As was designing and driving the route. With the experience gained in this successful attempt I feel that future participation will be easier. There are literally scads of records across the country that are ripe for the picking. I'm hoping to find the time and a willing crew to take a shot at another one. Stay tuned. </div>
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Boo-ya! </div>
Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-83930504746158824722012-07-04T10:49:00.002-07:002012-07-04T10:49:23.546-07:00New Jersey East Creek 600k - Fixed Gear R-80<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHVi2_gV5bwhfMV_2W3BZXxamkFbCRY3ZeAq_9AeZ7Q5eIKenVgziYgKAPObhMNGJQLK3StBtmOS7UQf-5uH4-k0b5iOTiUpNbPzdornWz5tBj9koW3bbJQYd0mqMROBqPUyDA9aYr5Bw/s1600/035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHVi2_gV5bwhfMV_2W3BZXxamkFbCRY3ZeAq_9AeZ7Q5eIKenVgziYgKAPObhMNGJQLK3StBtmOS7UQf-5uH4-k0b5iOTiUpNbPzdornWz5tBj9koW3bbJQYd0mqMROBqPUyDA9aYr5Bw/s400/035.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I first heard about the Cyclos Montagnards and the R-80
recognition for finishing brevets in 80% of the official time limit I thought
it was a silly idea. Randonneuring is a
non-competitive activity. The proposed
concept seemed to contradict this. After time the purpose of it finally dawned
on me. The point being that after years
of brevet participation one can become a little bored. New challenges are welcome. This year I participate in all rides on a
fixed-gear to raise the level of difficulty.
Combining that with the 80% time goal makes for a worthy challenge. One I was never confident I could manage, for
a complete series. Without specifically
trying I posted times faster than the R-80 limit on two 200 kilometer rides,
one 300k, and on two 400k’s so far this season.
All that’s needed to earn the recognition is the 600k. The time limit would be 32 hours instead of
the usual 40 hours. For me, on the
fixed-gear, that would demand riding straight through. A totally sleepless event, something I’d
never done before. My confidence was low
the week leading up to the ride, but my desire held strong. I was determined to give it my best
effort. If it didn’t work out it
wouldn’t be for lack of trying. </div>
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<b>Hightstown to Browns Mills - 54 Miles</b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My dislike for 4am starts mattered little as I line up with
15 other riders in front of the Days Inn at Hightstown. It’s a pleasant morning with mild
temperatures and no wind. A few last
minute announcements from organizer Rick Lentz and we are given the go
signal. The field of riders quickly
departs for points south. I know better
than to try to hang with a large pack of geared bikes. I relegate myself to the last position and
watch as the group moves away from me. I
enjoy the solitude of those first miles in the darkness. I see a bike lamp coming up from behind and
am quickly joined by my friend Paul, who got off to a late start by a few
minutes. We ride together as the skies
begin to lighten and daylight slowly overpowers the darkness. We come across Todd at the side of the
road. He is in the final stages of
repairing a flat on his rear wheel. We
stop to assist with Paul loaning him a high-pressure frame pump. Quickly we are underway with Todd joining us.
This part of the route I have ridden
many times before. The roads are
utilized by a number of other rides. We
efficiently cover the final miles to the Wawa where three volunteers are
awaiting our arrival. We are the only
riders there. The rest of the group is
gone by about 15 minutes. We keep our
time at the stop short..</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjfouv5CX4l6lFj_Ox0fUQR6bfq1UDoedB8ciOye_CMNeQZFc8hKGTH7Jg_adfMRaR_e_J7QqyMSJPGk9V5pN0AvRQhChsz0ZPlRjkvMiY6IAhADvqZ4zoOJLn-JGMzzXXf7NgwpMvMpg/s1600/008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjfouv5CX4l6lFj_Ox0fUQR6bfq1UDoedB8ciOye_CMNeQZFc8hKGTH7Jg_adfMRaR_e_J7QqyMSJPGk9V5pN0AvRQhChsz0ZPlRjkvMiY6IAhADvqZ4zoOJLn-JGMzzXXf7NgwpMvMpg/s400/008.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Paul rolls past New Jersey farmland</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Browns Mills to Williamstown – 56 Miles</b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Leaving the control we are in the vicinity of the Fort
Dix/MacGuire military base. Trucks buzz
by and aircraft scream overhead. There
is considerable traffic for the first two miles. Then we turn off onto quiet country
lanes. We pass by the Brendan Byrne
State Forest and turn onto Buzzard Hill Road.
I don’t recall seeing any
buzzards, or any hill for that matter.
Soon thereafter we pass by Nixon’s General Store. We spot two riders stopped in front. They are preparing to depart as we pass
by. It takes them a few miles to catch
up. One of the riders, Justin, is on a
recumbent. His riding companion, Bob, is
on his first 600k brevet. Both riders
are from Maryland. They ride with us
for a bit until they fall off the pace shortly before the control. We arrive at the Wawa to be greeted by my
friend and fellow randonneur Nigel and his daughter who is enthusiastically ringing a cow bell in our honor. By
prior agreement we intend keep the stop to 10 minutes. After refilling water bottles I am ready to
go. Paul and Todd are both mixing drink
powders. When we reach the 10 minute
mark I tell them I have to roll. The
desire to be moving forward is overpowering.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiToqe2e30m_OnNRmNF80DQsy7MJSy616UaQiIYbiOdiH_BYg2F8Cig-Hs0U6bMYNbFRwy1ad5pA0dJPoSrM5HN97Rh74vKyA_x7VvTAFASs7AO4w06qPKuHOvbXt4LQDyQvkQ86_FmgcM/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiToqe2e30m_OnNRmNF80DQsy7MJSy616UaQiIYbiOdiH_BYg2F8Cig-Hs0U6bMYNbFRwy1ad5pA0dJPoSrM5HN97Rh74vKyA_x7VvTAFASs7AO4w06qPKuHOvbXt4LQDyQvkQ86_FmgcM/s400/005.JPG" width="297" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Todd cruises through the Pinelands</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdH29dVvNv1sSsYJ_3bDW7dHEPHvfWbiE8pTY4jbjQMVT0fWJuPfMHlODYAjxa9e9RPfw_APOZu_ki0wTqDKHWlOQBLKcK0WAXxEFmuhuNu5Gdo0l7wTrXLJAk6pVnQ6B_r16pEBCf5kI/s1600/010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdH29dVvNv1sSsYJ_3bDW7dHEPHvfWbiE8pTY4jbjQMVT0fWJuPfMHlODYAjxa9e9RPfw_APOZu_ki0wTqDKHWlOQBLKcK0WAXxEFmuhuNu5Gdo0l7wTrXLJAk6pVnQ6B_r16pEBCf5kI/s400/010.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Justin from DC on the Recumbent</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Williamstown to Salem – 33 Miles</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I leave the control feeling bad about the situation. But, standing by idly when I know I need to
keep moving caused tremendous anxiety. I
just have to be rolling. I wait for the
traffic light to change at the intersection of Black Horse Pike. I look back to see Paul heading from the
control. I pedal slowly and he catches
me quickly. Unfortunately, Todd does not
get out in time to catch back up. I hope
I will see him later. Paul and I average
a nice pace over the moderate terrain moving closer to the very western part of
the state where the river separates New Jersey from Delaware. We come across Jon and Katie who are working
on the tandem on the side of the road.
The stoker’s crank arm has come loose.
We help them get it straightened out.
In short order we are back underway towards the control. After a few miles riding together the tandem
falls off the pace a bit. Paul hangs
back and I put a bit of a gap on them. I
hold my pace arriving at the control slightly ahead of them. The volunteer, Laurent, checks me in. I decide to eat a slice of pizza. Katie, Jon, and Paul arrive and settle
in. Paul says he is not feeling
well. The day has warmed
considerably. I’m guessing he is
suffering from the heat. He’s not certain whether he should continue. When I am ready to leave Paul says he will
depart soon with Katie and Jon who agree to stay with him. It’s a plan I can live with. I hate to leave him, but I need to keep moving. I see Todd on his way in to the control as I
head out. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzRLv5jbpRkUeUVClH3ea3j8NSLhSIdzxUFsSsAiw_Wraw-2ztuTyqHGq5PHJfF98P9HrZCsmqzSBGufByFZdehF9ZhV7583nOGhr1uz2Kar6hCq8S5EGrgQ3rhwwNMuLdEUrTWVN0tvw/s1600/012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzRLv5jbpRkUeUVClH3ea3j8NSLhSIdzxUFsSsAiw_Wraw-2ztuTyqHGq5PHJfF98P9HrZCsmqzSBGufByFZdehF9ZhV7583nOGhr1uz2Kar6hCq8S5EGrgQ3rhwwNMuLdEUrTWVN0tvw/s400/012.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Katie & Jon riding with Paul en-route to Salem</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Salem to Newfield – 37 Miles</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Much of the 600k route was changed for this year, the
current section being entirely new. I’m
using the electronic cue sheet device for guidance. After navigating for a few miles I’m passed
by Michelle, who was at the last control at the same time as me. I avoid the temptation to match her pace.
There are more than 200 miles left which I plan to cover without rest. I stick to the ride plan and hold my current speed. After a few miles she disappears out of sight
and the temptation is gone. The
remaining miles to Newfield pass by without incident. In fact, I found the section quire
pleasant. On arrival at the control I am
greeted by Jim, a regular volunteer from the southern jersey contingent. He points to a rider sitting on a park bench
nearby and tells me he is dropping out.
After completing my check-in I walk over to talk to him. He is Rudi from Philadelphia. I recognize him from other rides. Rudi explains that he was caught up with the
lead group and rode faster than was reasonable given the hot weather. I assure him that he can recover from the
mistake. I invited him to leave the
control with me. I promise to maintain a moderate, but steady pace. He agrees to join me. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ma5Y4pbqNpgZrIZvwTgFC0gM7qkj1clmTX7mLh7wRk4PNjWq9OxE7fhZ925S5iEVEMgozPLvlPQfAQBHRoQr1aSbNGr0K57c6wov9xrO5GxdWtwZIRkKulm21duo5JfkeJVcOwkh46o/s1600/030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ma5Y4pbqNpgZrIZvwTgFC0gM7qkj1clmTX7mLh7wRk4PNjWq9OxE7fhZ925S5iEVEMgozPLvlPQfAQBHRoQr1aSbNGr0K57c6wov9xrO5GxdWtwZIRkKulm21duo5JfkeJVcOwkh46o/s400/030.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Rudi smiling through some of the many miles </span></b></i><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Newfield to Ocean City – 38 Miles</b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As promised I keep the pace moderate with Rudi following on
my rear wheel. We ride that way until he
finds his legs. At which point we spend
some time riding side by side and chatting.
I tell him that I’m planning on riding through the night without sleep. He
thinks it sounds like a good idea to beat the heat that’s forecasted for
Sunday. His intent is to join me if he
feels up to it. Despite using the ECS we
miss a turn. It takes about one mile
before I realize we are wrong. By the
time we get back on course a rider from behind has gotten by. We see him just ahead. I recognize him as Sam from New York. We catch up and ride together as the scenery
changes to more shore like surroundings. We traverse two bridges which are high enough to
be considered climbs. We arrive at the
Wawa control together. The volunteer,
Dawn, verifies our brevet cards. I
suggest to Rudi that we keep the stop brief.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXxblzs1ou_VCvzdr9UYqZsnZ2qfoijlBLGCN0JLAAiUn_RMWna9fJiwN49G-zTDk-5LuwMvQhQ9eL4AOdlGxSDFKKggmbFyQ_3SdujnEtN0DwxdKNwNF_nwesW3pyY4gzbVrn_svQwko/s1600/031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXxblzs1ou_VCvzdr9UYqZsnZ2qfoijlBLGCN0JLAAiUn_RMWna9fJiwN49G-zTDk-5LuwMvQhQ9eL4AOdlGxSDFKKggmbFyQ_3SdujnEtN0DwxdKNwNF_nwesW3pyY4gzbVrn_svQwko/s400/031.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Rudi and Sam en-route to Ocean City</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Ocean City to Eldora (Sleep Stop) - 22 Miles</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After a quick bite the three of us get underway headed to
the sleep stop. We are now in full
darkness. We negotiate our way through
the busy streets of Ocean City and over another bridge crossing. Sometime later the surroundings become more
wooded and rural. The sleep location is
a large cabin capable of accommodating 15 people. I have a drop bag with fresh cycling kit
waiting for me. My plan is to eat, freshen up, change, and depart as quickly as
possible. I budget a half hour for the stop.
Discussing the plan with Rudi along the way he indicates he is game to
ride through with me. The sign for the
East Creek Cabin leads us to a gravel road of about 100 yards which ends at a
rather large wood cabin. We are quickly
checked-in by Rick and Walt then given our drop bags and shown around. Another volunteer brings me a bowl of
vegetarian chili. I sit at a large table
and fill up on the food. There are three
riders there, one asleep in the bunk room.
Michelle and Patrick are the other two who plan to take some sleep
there. I learn that Paul has dropped out at the prior control. It takes 45 minutes for Rudi and I to get
everything done. We depart together into
the quiet night knowing there are three riders who are on the road ahead of us.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Eldora to Hammonton – 36 Miles</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As we close in on midnight I felt the first signs of
sleepiness setting in. Thankfully Rudi
has an I-Pod on his bike with small amplified speakers. In the quiet of the Pine Barrens I can
clearly hear the songs. We ride side by
side undisturbed by any vehicle traffic.
The classic rock tunes keep me going, I find myself singing along to much
of his playlist. Navigating is the other function that helps me stay
alert. The directions seem confusing at
times. Mostly, because my mental
function is reduced by fatigue. It takes
lots of concentrating to keep from going off course. At one point a road name changed without being
noted on the cue sheet. We stop to consult
my GPS cell phone to confirm our direction is correct. I cannot afford any more bonus miles if I am
to finish within the desired time frame.
We arrive at the Hammonton Wawa at about 3:00am. Bob, the volunteer on duty, meets us in front
of the store. I need to adjust my chain
tension. I can feel the slack in it
while pedaling. I realize there is no more room in the dropouts to move the
wheel back. The chain will have to be
shortened to make it work. Bob has the
tools on hand to accomplish this and offers to help get it done. We work together for about one-half hour before
it’s accomplished. Rudi and I leave the
control at 4:00am, one hour after arrival.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Hammonton to Vincentown – 46 Miles</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
An unspoken goal I’ve had in the back of my mind for a long
time is to ride 300 miles within 24 hours. I thought it might happen on this ride. The opportunity slips away due to numerous unpredictable
time management issues. Most were unavoidable.
I’m a little bummed as the 24 hour mark passes with only 283 miles in
the bank. I then focus all my thoughts
and energy on achieving the bigger goal of the R-80 Series. I intend to keep a steady pace to the next
control without stopping. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Amazingly daylight begins to break through at about 5am.
This helps me feel a little more awake.
Rudi is hanging in there, but mentions he would like to take a long break
at the next control. I won’t be in a
position to spend more than a few minutes there. We both have different agendas and knew at
some point we may have to separate. We
helped each other get through the night.
At this point we would each finish the ride on our own terms. I begin to recognize the surroundings shortly
before the control. We are very
close. After crossing US 206 we enter
the Wawa Market and are immediately greeted by David. After getting our cards verified Rudi lays
down on the grass in front of the store.
David says he’s been told about my time goal. He encourages me to go for it. He tells me the actual mileage to the finish
is a bit shorter than what the cue sheet indicates. I know this isn’t true, but I appreciate his
attempt to bolster my confidence. There
are three riders ahead, but too far up for me to hope to catch anyone. I will have to finish the last section on my
own. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I want something to eat other than a Clif Bar. I dash into the store and grab the first
thing that looks good, which is an individually wrapped mini pie. After paying for the item I jump on my bike
and head out with the pie in my back pocket.
My total time spent at the control is seven minutes. David wishes me
luck. Rudi appears to be sleeping in the grass as I ride out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Vincentown to Hightstown – 49 Miles</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My departure time from the control is 7:30am. I need to
arrive at the finish before 12pm. That
seems like a lot of time to me. But, I’m
quite tired and the final section of the route features some climbing. I tear open the fruit pie and devour it while
riding through a flat section. Soon thereafter I feel an energy surge from the
sugar. I’m riding strong and feeling
pretty alert. After quickly knocking off
twenty miles I feel a big letdown. I know the energy burst from sugary foods
ends abruptly. I’m now in a
mini-bonk. My speed slows to 11-12mph on
flat terrain. I quickly consume a gel, with caffeine, and a Clif Bar. It takes about twenty minutes before I feel
the effect. My speed picks up and I begin
to feel better on the hills that are increasing in frequency. I’m passed by a local rider, not affiliated
with the 600k. I acknowledge him with a
casual nod and a wave. I’m sure I look
like a zombie at this point. We hit a steep
kicker and he slows up, shifting into an easy gear. I pass by him in a standing climb pushing my single
gear up the hill. I’m sort of hoping he
catches me again. I would like to ride a
few miles with someone to talk to. It
would be very helpful.
Unfortunately, he never catches
up and I can’t take the time to slow up.
The one hill I’m dreading is quickly approaching. Aggress Road at mile 368 is the most substantial
climb on the entire route. It’s not a terribly hard climb, if encountered on a
routine training ride. After 30 hours it
leaves a lasting impression. I’m
grateful when I reach the top without a problem. Also, I’m very happy my earlier chain repair
held up under the strain. With Aggress
behind me I’m confident of a successful outcome. My mood is jubilant for the last eight miles
to the finish. When I make the final
turn to the hotel I sprint it in (sort of).
Kyle, Bob, Rick and Walt greet me under the canopy. My card is signed at 11:17am, forty-three
minutes before the R-80 cut-off. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Epilouge</b>:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I learned later that Rudi finished successfully. He rested for two hours at the Vincentown
control, waiting there for the next rider, Sam, to arrive. They rode together for most of the last section.
I also heard that my friend Todd had passed out at the sleep stop falling to
the floor. He was suffering from heat exhaustion. After some substantial rest he resumed the
ride finishing in good shape. Jon and
Katie also finished after taking sleep at the cabin. A total of fourteen riders
completed the 376 mile course, despite hot weather.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With the R-80 Series complete I am looking forward to the next
challenge. I am planning to traverse the
entire 444 mile Natchez Trace Parkway from Nashville, TN to Natchez, MS in late
September, on a fixed gear. I’ve not
fully decided how aggressively I wish to undertake the ride. My instinct is to try and kill it with a
straight through effort. Possibly setting a fixed-gear record for that stretch of
roadway. I doubt one currently exists. A straight through ride at any speed would be
the initial benchmark. I just need to work up the motivation to give it the effort. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimdSuXgDIej1a29LOu48Y7bAkJO5yWX0WsCbz8-eXjIRj5Z9n-SWe6ItYTprRJWKXo2kl1G4o7vasZb9MaJs3o0I-jR1RLWf_hMlQW6_vpCEPiO-TDKc2GfPWogo0hBHts5sXSb451C5w/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimdSuXgDIej1a29LOu48Y7bAkJO5yWX0WsCbz8-eXjIRj5Z9n-SWe6ItYTprRJWKXo2kl1G4o7vasZb9MaJs3o0I-jR1RLWf_hMlQW6_vpCEPiO-TDKc2GfPWogo0hBHts5sXSb451C5w/s200/004.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Boo-ya!</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-34848759716321752382012-06-12T20:02:00.000-07:002012-06-12T20:02:15.004-07:00New Jersey 400k - Volunteer Pre-Ride<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9omgkXfh1ejgFgVRmBcAvrRGaYQXWDlXP2pX-0I6Jc_2w9QTkQCWc0dA3eAx26Pa3LO4tmzsj5rfa2yjTV6qqeEC2P1tyLDpLmFzjGKWPBbq_ofvK-rt4lTR4NUMm8JMta7dtW5yvKLI/s1600/024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9omgkXfh1ejgFgVRmBcAvrRGaYQXWDlXP2pX-0I6Jc_2w9QTkQCWc0dA3eAx26Pa3LO4tmzsj5rfa2yjTV6qqeEC2P1tyLDpLmFzjGKWPBbq_ofvK-rt4lTR4NUMm8JMta7dtW5yvKLI/s400/024.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
Without even a full week passing I find myself undertaking another long ride. In keeping with my annual obligation to organize a brevet for my fellow New Jersey Randonneurs, I agreed to pre-ride the 400k route just one day before the calendar event. Accompanied by RBA, Katie, and volunteers Jon and Paul we would take to the roads at 4am on Friday. We would need to be available to check-in riders at 3am on Saturday. A 400k has a time limit of 27 hours. In order to meet our obligation we would have a self-imposed limit somewhat shorter than that. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Paul passing New Jersey crops</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Jon and Katie would team up on the Co-Motion tandem, with Paul riding his geared Lite Speed. I would keep the status-quo with the Jamis Fixed-Gear. Things went remarkably well for us including good weather. The route, mostly unchanged from the prior year, presented no problems. The controls were all in place including a new control for the return through the Pine Barrens, The Green Bank Tavern. Which turned out to be the highlight of the day, featuring a comfortable air-conditioned environment and wonderful food. After spending about 45 minutes re-fueling there we were pleased to know this stop would be available to the riders the next day. Sometime later we transitioned to night riding. The temperature remained mild and we rode comfortably through the remaining wooded area to the penultimate control in Vincentown. The final 35 miles were covered slowly. Paul became dangerously sleepy and decided to nap in the protection of a school entrance. He insisted we keep riding and asked that we call his cell phone in 15 minuted to wake him up. Jon made the call from the back of the tandem while we rolled to the finish. We arrived at 12:13 am with Paul finishing about 15 minutes later. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Jon and Katie at the deli just past Batsto</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">The train graveyard</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Katie smiling through the Pine Barrens</span></b></i></td></tr>
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There would be precious little sleep time before our volunteer duties began at 3am, but it would have to do. After two hours of sleep Jon, Katie and I would begin another long day seeing a group of 21 riders successfully around a 400 kilometer. Paul would arrive later to handle the late night duty of the final finishers. A task that required him to remain all through the night until 6am to greet the final finisher, a man riding a hand-cycle. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Pre-ride announcements at 4am</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<i><b>Epilogue:</b></i><br />
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Being the organizer, or volunteer, at a brevet is a time consuming but rewarding experience. It's enjoyable helping others to meet their goals. The riders appreciate the support and encouragement given to them by like minded folks who know what they are experiencing and how to help. It makes quite a difference when a rider is having doubts about their abilities. I have been on the receiving end of such encouragement many times. It's nice to have a chance to give some back. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Boo-ya!</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-10285451604354847352012-05-22T04:29:00.002-07:002012-06-01T16:03:06.338-07:00The Shiftless Vagabonds - NYC to Westfiled, MA Fleche<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The Fleche is one of the most unique rides in all of cycling. Participants are counted as number of bicycles and not riders. Therefore, the number of persons on a team can range based on the carrying capacity of the maximum number of bicycles (5). No specific route or checkpoints are provided by the organizer. Only a finishing location and a range of starting dates/times are pre-determined. The route design, the starting location, and exact start time is the responsibility of the team. The distance is to be a minimum of 360 kilometers. The control points are also determined by the team including the all important 22-hour control which is to be no less than 25 kilometers from the finish. The team must depart this control 22-hours into the ride and arrive together at the finish. No more than two hours can be spent at any rest stop. At least three team members must finish for credit. Only those who finish receive credit, and no team member can finish earlier, or later, than the rest of the team. The Fleche is considered a 24-hour event. Each team must present a team name at the time of their entry.<br />
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I would have the pleasure and privileged of being on a team with four veteran randonneurs. After much debate we settled on the team name of <i>Shiftless Vagabonds, </i>depicting our commitment to ride fixed-gear bikes. We wanted to honor the original Fleche concept of a point-to-point ride. We selected New York City's Penn Station as our start. Team Captain, Mordecai Silver, designed a route which avoided much of the severely hilly terrain through upstate New York, Connecticut and Massachusetts. Our designated start time was 9am on Saturday for a Sunday morning finish in Westfield.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">The D&R Canal at Blackwell Mills Crossing on the way to the New Brunswick train station</span></b></i></td></tr>
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My team mates where, Roy, Jon, and Mordecai (team captain). We used our bikes and public transit whenever possible. I would share a ride on the train with Roy to meet the two New York City resident team mates at Penn Station.<br />
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We started the ride on 7th Avenue in Manhatten utilizing the Greenway bike path along the river. We would spend many miles on bike paths making our way to the north. Our first 100 kilometers were almost entirely on paved trails to the town of Carmel, NY. We continued our northerly trek utilizing both roads and trails through Millerton, NY and into Connecticut. A rolling section on Route 44 would deliver us to New Canaan, Ct. 117 miles into the ride. From there mostly gentle terrain would take us to North Adams, MA, near the Vermont Border. We arrived around midnight and spent time at a 24 hour McDonalds After a lengthy break we would undertake the hilly portion of the ride, including a 3-mile climb with gradient about 9%. As cool temperatures set in we plodded on to the 22-hour control in Northampton, MA. The rules required a 7am departure. We would spend over an hour and a half there awaiting our opportunity to move on to the finish. We did so promptly at 7am. The final section was mild., as the day rapidly warmed up. We arrived at 8:15 in Westfield for the finish. Another team arrived shortly thereafter having ridden south from Vermont. One of the riders Bill Russell is a regular on New Jersey brevets. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Roy, Jon and Mordecai on the North County Trailway</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Roy catching a nap at Bruegers Bagels in Northampton, MA</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<i><b><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></b></i>Roy and I would ride 10 miles to Springfiled, MA to catch a Peter Pan bus to NYC. Incredibly Jon and Mordecai rode 65 miles to New Haven, CT to catch a train. It was pleasing that despite finishing a ride far from home no one relied on a private vehicle for transportation. We may be Shiftless Vagabonds, but we know how to go green. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Boo-Ya!</span></b></i></td></tr>
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</tbody></table>Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-25589881394034587382012-05-18T06:44:00.000-07:002012-05-18T06:44:29.690-07:00Princeton 300k Pre-Ride - The Fixie Challenge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The fun part of agreeing to undertake this ride was that I wasn't confident I could do it. I've competed this route no less than four prior times, and, segments of it dozens of times. This time, I would be attempting it on the fixed-gear. Not my longest fixed ride, but, in my mind it would be the toughest. To my amazement three of my four riding companions also agreed to ride fixed. As the scheduled date approached, and my nervousness increased, the fact that others would be riding with a single cog kept me committed.<br />
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I'm not my best at three am. With all my gear ready, the Jamis Sputnik in the van from the night before, I drive to Princeton Forestall Village, arriving fifteen minutes in advance of the four am start. The four other riders are there already making final preparations. I'm riding with Todd, Paul, Roy and Jon. All but Todd will be on fixed-gear bikes.<br />
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<b>The Start </b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">The Village of Kingston at 4:10am</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<i><b><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></b></i>Exactly at the designated time of four am we take out from the quaint shopping village in the early morning darkness. The first thirty miles are fairly gentle, a nice smooth warm-up before the difficult miles ahead. The weather is reasonably pleasant with an air temperature in the low fifties and moderate winds. The humidity is high causing a misty fog. We spin quietly on roads that are totally void of traffic at the early hour. At times chatting with each other, but mostly just taking in the pre-dawn stillness. An overcast sunrise begins just prior to our arrival at Whitehouse Station. The designated control is the Bagel Junction in the Whitehouse Mall. We take the opportunity to partake in a nice breakfast of freshly baked bagels. While enjoying the respite we discuss the severity of the terrain on the next section. The four of us riding fixed are figuring there are hills we will be forced to walk. For at least some portion. We all agree that Ryan Road in Petersburg will likely be the first to take us out. Although, there are significant hills to climb before we get there. <br />
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<b>Whitehouse Station </b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Todd (L) and Roy (R) at Bagel Junction, Whitehouse Station</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Reluctantly leaving the comfortable environment of the bagel store we cross US-22 headed towards Oldwick. We work our way to Rockaway Road, which is a slightly uphill run along the river to the tiny town of Mountainville. The first lump of the day appears on Guinea Hollow Road which brings us up to Route 512 near Califon. While not a particularly difficult climb it is followed by a long fast high-cadence descent into the small town. With little chance to rest the legs we take on two quick kickers which lead to Route 513. A quick turn-off is made on Sliker Road. This begins a long challenging climb along the side of Point Mountain. We all manage to stay upright for the entire climb. A fast twisty descent to the Muscenetcong River follows on Point Mountain Road. We cross US-31 near Washington climbing again up to Rockport Road where we enjoy a pleasant rolling stretch into Hackettstown. Each mile brings us closer to the first real steep climb at Ryan Road.<br />
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<b>Ryan Road </b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Roy and Paul walking Ryan Road</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Traversing the western half of the town of Hackettstown on US-46 we climb up to Liberty Township. We turn-off on Petersburg Road and are quickly met with more steep kickers. A long gradual descent leads us to the turn onto Ryan Road one-half mile before the climb. Todd has fallen back. We all wait for him at the bottom of the climb, delaying the painful experience just a bit longer. When he arrives we immediately start up the hill. The road pitches up sharply very early on. It is all I can do to turn over the pedals until finally I feel stuck. I don't have the strength to move the pedal to the bottom of the stroke. Clip out, or fall are my choices. With little desire to break a hip I take option one (clip out). With feet firmly on the ground I look around to see my fellow fixie riders walking their bikes up the steepest section of the hill. Score one for the mountain. No one with a single cog stayed on for the entire climb up Ryan. Todd successfully climbed the hill with gears. Once at the top a fast descent delivers us to Allamuchy. We pass by sod and chickory farms on gentle terrain. Interstate 80 is just off to our right. The traffic there seems out of place in this farm community. I'm happy when we enter the small town of Johnsonburg and can no longer see or hear the interstate. We pass through the sleepy town headed for State Highway 94.<br />
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<b>Stillwater Loop</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuMuVpZtijB_xqb_fs5AWT5eLBjhoSPETAM3YIgULVd_l2bmzP3ANPzk9BOOkdg7DSj22uVfdFW3CQuy3YqssGS6ABDPbXEadk5OMPTIh5f5XsHh023-7Vc6buwbc0BnnhAB_vgSb-eFY/s1600/p300vol6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuMuVpZtijB_xqb_fs5AWT5eLBjhoSPETAM3YIgULVd_l2bmzP3ANPzk9BOOkdg7DSj22uVfdFW3CQuy3YqssGS6ABDPbXEadk5OMPTIh5f5XsHh023-7Vc6buwbc0BnnhAB_vgSb-eFY/s400/p300vol6.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Despite running the biggest gear of the group Jon climbed strong all day</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<b> </b>Once Route 94 is reached signs pointing the direction to Blairstown lead one to believe the control is near. Unfortunately, a cruel joke is played at this point. The cue sheet quickly directs riders to the north for a little venture known as the Stillwater Loop. This is twelve miles of challenging terrain in one of the northern most regions of the state. A substantial climb on Sunset Lake Road comes at a time which makes it hard to enjoy. None the less it is climbed successfully by our entire group. There is a payback for the effort which is in the form of breathtaking scenery. Millbrook Road has a view which seems to go on forever. The remaining miles to Blairstown pass uneventfully. We are soon enjoying a hearty lunch at the Gourmet Gallery in the small downtown area. <br />
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<b>Jenny Jump</b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Pain and suffering ahead</span></b></i></td></tr>
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The departure from Blairstown comes with the knowledge that one of the most notorious climbs on the course is looming in the distance. Seven miles of somewhat hilly terrain bring us to State Park Road, and the start of a long steep trek up the Jenny Jump mountain. Roy and I are climbing together. Jon is a bit ahead. Both Paul and Todd are a bit behind. Roy announces the percentage of grade as reported from his Garmin. We are climbing fine until we exceed 16% of grade. We are once again relegated to walking. We watch in awe as Jon continues the climb, without walking. We only walk a short way until the grade lessens. We resume riding to the top of the climb. What follows is a screaming descent down to Route 611. After which we enjoy mostly moderate terrain to the information control at the Anderson Hotel in Washington.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA_Xm2_5tbbMDJZKQlgrd5V6NjUXCuPP-KcQMlbMHnP23nz03M2TIEsimlIU3UHj-zGE8S0nlxZUsvruynn-rWovIgzyCWtnSF1VAdo1A3h7ysucFvyF1ouiAH3OaZb0Vj1sr9Y7t8J2Y/s1600/p300vol7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA_Xm2_5tbbMDJZKQlgrd5V6NjUXCuPP-KcQMlbMHnP23nz03M2TIEsimlIU3UHj-zGE8S0nlxZUsvruynn-rWovIgzyCWtnSF1VAdo1A3h7ysucFvyF1ouiAH3OaZb0Vj1sr9Y7t8J2Y/s400/p300vol7.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">A grimace on his face as Paul tops Westervelt Road in Washington</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<b>Penwell Road</b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Roy and Jon re-grouping at hill top</span></b></i></td></tr>
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From the turn off Route 57 in Washington to the top of Schooley's Mountain involves six miles of climbing on Penwell Road. The initial section, near the YMCA camp, is quite steep for about one mile. After which the remainder of the climb is considerably more moderate. All of the day I was thinking that the steeper section of Penwell would be too much for the fixed-gears. To my surprise we all made it without dismounting. When the gradient eased I felt strong and pushed a bit on the remaining miles to the top. I rather enjoyed the climb and a nice break at the General Store conveniently located at the apex of the mountain. <br />
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<b>Hacklebarney State Park </b><br />
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After a bit of rest at the store we descend off the mountain into the town of Long Valley. From there it is a short distance to Califon, where there is an information control followed by the final big climb of the day. The slow, steady grind up Route 512 actually buoys my spirits as I know that this is the last of the extended climbs. All riders make the climb upright. We continue on to Fairmount, near Chester and the control at Hacklebarney. Once on State Park Road we hit a few smaller hills, but nothing compared to what we've been through. Basically, the severe terrain is behind us. Upon arrival at the control we are greeted by Todd's friend Leslie, who has graciously volunteered to provide food and drink for our small group of pre-riders. We relax and enjoy warm slices of Pizza. After a nice break we reluctantly resume the ride. We have a couple of hours of daylight left and forty-five miles to the end. We plan to make an optional stop at Three Bridges to switch to night riding mode.<br />
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<b>Push to the Finish </b><br />
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A few steep kickers hit us on the way out of the park. After which we manage with a long, bumpy downhill into Pottersville. This is followed by a run along Black River Road. We are headed downriver, moderately losing elevation all the way to the crossing of US 22 at Whitehouse. We pass by the shopping center where we enjoyed bagels many hours ago. The final thirty-miles from this point follows the identical route as the outbound. Everything is familiar as we work our way to US 202 at Three Bridges stopping at the Wawa Market. We keep our stop brief departing with lights and reflective gear functioning. We still have some daylight left although the sun is quickly sinking. Like horses to the barn we are covering ground quickly and efficiently. We reach the tiny town of Neshanic Station as daylight yields to darkness. I've ridden this section so many times I've no need for a cue-sheet. Methodically, we work our way through South Branch, Montgomery Township, Franklin and Kingston. The final one and a half miles on Academy Street feels like a sprint. Although, night riding has the perception of feeling faster than the reality. None the less we are soon enough at the finish in the Forrestal Village Parking lot. We took 17 hours and 22 minutes to cover the hilly route. All said and done it's a successful day on a fix.<br />
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<b>Epilogue</b><br />
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My friend, and fellow Randonneur, Nigel Green posted a writing by Jane Flanders entitled the <i>Hard Way. http://eprider.blogspot.com/2012/05/friday-writings-for-randos-hard-way.html</i><br />
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I found the short piece thought provoking and relevant. Why would anyone do anything in a manner that would make the task more difficult? According to Jane Flanders this is done frequently in error, but just as often by intent. The point being; sometimes it's the difficulty factor that makes something fun to accomplish. <br />
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I confess that my fixed-gear season is somewhat of a fluke. I never originally set out to do this. It all began when I took a trip west and brought along the fixie as my only bike. I wound up spending months away from home in a very hilly region with nothing else to ride but a 46x18. I made the best of it. And, of a warm winter, by racking up many miles, and RUSA kilometers, on the single cog. When I finally returned to the east I had little desire to ride anything but the fixed. I expect at some point that will change, but for now my intention is to take it as far as a can. Hopefully, accomplishing a full series on fixed, and, possibly a repeat K-Hound award. With every one of the 10,000 kilometers ridden.......<i>the hard way.</i> <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>Boo-Ya!</b></i></span></td></tr>
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<br />Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-66537338460819759172012-05-01T09:08:00.000-07:002012-05-01T09:08:05.429-07:00Natchez Trace 400k - Nashville, TN to Cherokee, AL<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After a long stay in Arkansas I finally begin my trip home to New Jersey. Convenient to my plans is a stop over in Nashville. By amazing coincidence (not really) I find myself in the Music City the very weekend of the Nashville 400k. Of special interest to me was the fact that the ride would be held entirely on the Natchez Trace Parkway. Which, coincidentally, happens to be my favorite cycling roadway of all time. The ride would begin at the northern terminus of the parkway, in the suburbs of Nashville, and continue for 200 kilometers to Cherokee, Alabama, then return. I would be using my Jamis Sputnik fixed-gear, the only bike I've ridden so far in 2012. I've ridden on the famous roadway several times. The most recent was a 288 kilometer permanent done on the fixed-gear back in February. I was reasonably confident I would be successful at the 400k distance, although it would be my longest fixie ride ever. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">The highest bridge in Tennessee is on the Natchez Trace Parkway</span></b></i></td></tr>
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The 6am start is cool and damp. The rain which fell most of the night before was evident with wet roadways. Some twenty riders depart from the YMCA parking lot just a short distance from the entrance to the NT. Once on the parkway the large group begins to break up into smaller groups. Some light rain falls during the first ten miles or so, then things begin to dry out. The temperature is comfortable in the low fifties. I find myself in the vicinity of Alan, from Memphis and Jeff, the Nashville RBA. The rhythm of the fixed-gear is different than that of geared bikes so we don't spend a lot of time tightly together. Mostly, we pass by each other over the rolling terrain. Which at the northern end is constant. The geared bikes have the advantage on the downhills and flat sections. When the uphills present themselves I make up the deficit and pass by. This process repeats itself numerous times. Eventually on a series of uphills Alan falls back and never reappears. Jeff sails by me on a long downgrade and stays out in front until the control. In the meantime, I catch up to Anthony, a local rider, who does distance cycling as training for mountaineering. I listen with great interest as he recounts some of his experiences with mountain climbing around the world. We ride the remaining miles to the Collinwood control together (mile 90). There is a good number of riders already there. I opt for a quick stop. I leave before any of the others. I try to get Anthony to leave with me, but he's not quite ready. I'm sure with the wind being favorable, for the remaining miles to the south, he'll be able to catch me. I head back to the parkway alone. <br />
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I keep my pace steady without working too hard. There are a few mild grades, but mostly the terrain is flat. The day is very overcast, not warm by any means, but for now it is not unpleasant. Anthony catches me before the Alabama border. The turnaround point, Cherokee, AL, is thirty-five miles from the last control. We're making good time. It appears we will make the control before nine hours. As we near the exit we see the first rider on his way back. Soon thereafter two more riders together pass the other way. The control is only one-half mile off the NT. We see another rider depart as we arrive. We keep our time at the stop short and head out just as a group of four riders is coming in. Jeff is among the group. Our departure is right at the nine hour mark. If all goes dashingly well we hope for a finish by mid-night (18 hours). <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Anthony phones home from Cherokee, AL</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Back on the parkway we soon see Alan on his way south riding alone. The wind is now unfavorable, making us cold. We churn through it as best we can. Anthony is riding strong taking the lead for a number of miles. It's all I can do to hang on. Eventually, that becomes too difficult and he starts to gap me. I ease up a little to allow the gap to grow letting him ride his own pace. I know better than to push myself when there is almost 200k left and it's into the wind all the way. Settling in to a comfortable rhythm I work my way to the north. I marvel at how much colder it feels going in this direction. I begin to look forward to the Collinwood control again. I want a hot beverage, coffee or hot chocolate. With ten miles to go before getting there I pass the rider we saw leaving the control. In another few miles I pass a second rider who pulled off to don a jacket. I want to put on more layers, but will wait until the stop to do everything at once. A gradual upgrade for several miles precedes the exit for Collinwood. The control is less than a mile off the parkway. The flags on the NT Parkway welcome center are blowing stiffly to the south as I pass by. I'm happy to be out of it for a few minutes.<br />
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Sitting at a table in the store with a cup of coffee I pull out a jacket and reflective vest from my backpack to prepare for the cold. Darkness will arrive in a couple of hours at which point I expect it to get pretty chilly. One of the riders I past by earlier arrives saying he is freezing. A support crew who is waiting for their riders offers him some extra clothing which he gratefully accepts. Not wanting to waste any more daylight I head back out to the NT. As soon as I make the turn to the north I feel the cold headwind. I'm happy to be wearing the additional layers. There is an optional volunteer manned stop in fifty-three miles at the Gordon House, one of the NT rest stops. Using the markers on the right side of the roadway I begin counting off the miles. Daylight slowly begins to give way. The prediction is for a low temperature below forty. I'm hoping that it wont be quite that cold by the time I finish. I cover about half the distance to the Gordon House stop before it is fully dark. The NT is one of the darkest places I've ever ridden. There is no artificial light, with the exception of the rest stops. Occasionally, I hear animals moving about off to the side of the road, but it is too dark to see them. Thankfully, my lighting system clearly shows me the roadway. The rolling hills help keep monotony at bay. There is nothing steep to climb so mostly I'm enjoying the ride. There is almost no traffic at all. It is a feeling of total isolation which I have come to appreciate. An acquired taste of sorts.<br />
<br />
I notice a sign for the Gordon House announcing it is two miles further. As I get closer I see the dim lights of the rest area off in the distance. There is one car parked there which belongs to the volunteer. When I arrive he prepares a cup of hot chocolate and offers a variety of food. The warm beverage really hits the spot. I munch a couple of cookies for good measure and head back out. There are about forty miles left to the finish on the hilliest section of the NT. <br />
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I resume the practice of counting the mile markers. It gives me something to focus on. Keeping my mind engaged helps me ward off the sleepiness which begins to set in about now. The rest stop was at mile 408, the end of the NT comes at mile 442, thirty-four of the carved wooden markers remain to be counted. After about ten miles of rolling terrain a car eases up alongside me. The passenger rolls down the window and asks if I am okay. I recognize the car as the support vehicle for one of the riders. I assure them that I am fine. I give the situation no further thought as I am way too busy counting mile markers. At mile 427 my headlight goes dim indicating the rechargeable battery is low. I pull off at the next bridge to replace it with a fresh one. The darkness is so total on the NT the task could not have been completed without my helmet lamp. I'm quickly rolling and my quest of the wooden posts continues. The largest hills are on the last ten miles. I feel good surging up them and a little chilled on the way down. Overall, the effort feels good and the miles quickly pass by. The post marked 442 is reached with mixed feelings. The end of the ride is near, but I have no more markers to seek out. Shortly after the NT comes to an abrupt end at a "T" intersection with McCrory Lane. The finish of the ride is at a different location than the start. This requires a final climb to the top of the ridge. It may be the steepest of the day, although not all that bad. A private home belonging to one of the volunteers serves as the finish control. I miss the turn for it and almost descend the other side of the ridge. Fortunately, before doing this I check my cell phone GPS to learn I had passed by it a half a mile earlier. I turn around, find my way to the finish, and am greeted by Bill. A heated and furnished barn, which is more like a bike shop with a variety of machines hanging from the rafters, makes for a fine spot to warm up. Food and beverages are available. The support crew is there waiting on their riders. They comment on my lighting saying I was very visible on the road. Soon after the two they were supporting arrive. I learn they are from North Carolina. We all chat for a bit. It dawns on me that my car is about two miles away at the YMCA. Given it is after 2am I decide to call it a day. It's a cold ride back down the hill. My starting location at the YMCA is a welcome sight after a long day.<br />
<br />
The ride was finished in a time of 20 hours and 8 minutes. I was genuinely pleased to have completed my first fixed-gear 400k, even if it took a bit more time than I had hoped. <br />
<br />
<b>Epilogue</b><br />
<br />
This was my third official RUSA ride on the Natchez Trace, and my fourth time riding on it. There is and indescribable draw that the famous roadway has on some riders. I feel like I need to ride the entire distance. Every inch from Nashville, TN to Nathcez, MS. I am hoping an planning to do this in September. There is a series of permanent routes that offer RUSA credit for every kilometer ridden. That would be over 700 of them in one direction. With the option to double that by reversing the permanents to return to Nashville. The exact date and ride format is yet to be determined. Contact me if interested in joining. <br />Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-31701888252651523772012-04-19T08:16:00.000-07:002012-04-23T05:57:54.151-07:00Gilt Edge to LaGrange 208k Permanent - Memphis, Tennessee (Graceland)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghpQX9RlkWVAD-xGGw8wjRz-HLoTxC-ZTcn-vFe3KJtDF6kg3-UPoesqNl_iiKuvN3bWT9iT9TECBnrpAb7bBtA-8b54HvsPV8JHOlstTJSXZh6Eou8yQSPagKXzLtYrtJtY0ZwZEcoT8/s1600/mph9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghpQX9RlkWVAD-xGGw8wjRz-HLoTxC-ZTcn-vFe3KJtDF6kg3-UPoesqNl_iiKuvN3bWT9iT9TECBnrpAb7bBtA-8b54HvsPV8JHOlstTJSXZh6Eou8yQSPagKXzLtYrtJtY0ZwZEcoT8/s400/mph9.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
Looking at a second successive weekend of potentially dangerous thunderstorms for Arkansas and Missouri I began searching for a region with reasonable weather and RUSA permanents. All information pointed to Memphis, two-hundred miles to the southeast, with a dry forecast, and predicted temperatures from 60F to 80F. A 208k permanent was available. The route owner, Alan, very kindly accommodated my last minute request for a 7am start on Saturday.<br />
<br />
I would leave my motel on my Jamis fixed-gear at 6:30am for the one-mile ride to the start. I was contentedly topped up with oatmeal, waffles, and coffee from the breakfast buffet. The Kwik-Stop convenience store served as the start/finish control. After documenting my start I took to the roads at 7am sharp. Despite having reviewed the course on Google Maps within the first few miles things starting going wrong. There was a road closure, which I rode through, after which the street markings became confusing. At about 4 miles I was sure I went off route. After backtracking 1.5 miles I concluded that I was initially headed correctly. Three bonus miles were added in the fiasco. The remainder of the distance to the first control in Gilt Edge was mostly flat, aided by a light tail-wind, and passed without incident. I arrived at the cafe, which specialized in barbecue ribs. Given it was shortly after 9am, and I adhere to a vegetarian diet, I limited my purchase to a coffee. I was quickly underway to the next control in Mason.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2rVEpdZ8aVEUYD1ffShlZ_AxJuYo-jPbNdXJK_ov7D1Vl5m5pWc-iyHOpiJvYvYrecmm9Z1kh7igiCVFwKb6MD3qyYe0Y1es2l_w-QRabnhdkBVKLUPMIU5QGcv4r-q5bGgufFh3FA1E/s1600/mph2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2rVEpdZ8aVEUYD1ffShlZ_AxJuYo-jPbNdXJK_ov7D1Vl5m5pWc-iyHOpiJvYvYrecmm9Z1kh7igiCVFwKb6MD3qyYe0Y1es2l_w-QRabnhdkBVKLUPMIU5QGcv4r-q5bGgufFh3FA1E/s400/mph2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">The Gilt Edge Cafe in Gilt Edge, TN</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Some light rolling terrain on Tennessee 54 was enjoyed along the way. This section was easy to navigate being almost entirely on state highways. I relaxed and worked the moderate rollers which were well suited to my gearing and riding style. The day had warmed into the seventies. I was soaking up sunshine in a short sleeve jersey, sans arm warmers. The wind, which was still beneficial, had picked up some. The wind profile was my one weather concern. Blowing from the southwest it was predicted to be 19 mph sustained by afternoon. In just a few miles my direction of travel would be to the southeast and continue in that direction for about 45 miles. No doubt this would be a factor. But, for now everything was quite pleasant. The small town of Covington at mile 42 marked the change in direction to the south. Due south for a few miles than veering off to the southeast on highway 59. My perceived effort increases only marginally. I adjusted to the new work load and quickly relaxed into a nice rhythm. From my perspective the town of Mason consisted of one intersection with two gas station convenience stores. At the Tiger Mart I refilled my water and documented my passage. With minimal delay I departed for the next control in La Grange. I couldn't prevent the ZZ Top song of the same name from playing in my head ("HOW HOW HOW")!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiks9ORXTxw_cHnbeddbrYM0Mo6h_kaOznbeQ_N3X8rmOqjT0wYp7qnnORRAF48Ky1An0mHSK_0LppRTJ2LgdDXdGRhZjO-IHuGnqOAl-bsA6v_ZIP2kvULHShG2uYcra_XrWCmva1pQvY/s1600/mph4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiks9ORXTxw_cHnbeddbrYM0Mo6h_kaOznbeQ_N3X8rmOqjT0wYp7qnnORRAF48Ky1An0mHSK_0LppRTJ2LgdDXdGRhZjO-IHuGnqOAl-bsA6v_ZIP2kvULHShG2uYcra_XrWCmva1pQvY/s400/mph4.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Tired of pedaling? Hire the Hillbilly Limozene!</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Leaving the little town on quiet rural roads which are mostly flat. The wind hampers my progress, but not significantly so. The next ten miles is a quiet traffic free setting. After which the route uses lightly traveled state roads (TN 222, TN 59, TN 76) to the town of Somerville. There was much difficulty navigating through the town. I was supposed to take the TN 76, although there was no road leaving the town marked as such. It took me some time, and another bonus mile, to discover that South Main Street was the road I needed to follow. I was then instructed to turn onto La Grange Road for almost 15 miles ("HOW HOW HOW"). This was another great road with rolling hills, none gaining more than about 75 feet of elevation, perfect for a fixed gear. I make good time to the tiny town and find the information control, an historical marker, at the intersection of TN 57. With the question answered on the brevet card I then follow the TN 57 for 9 miles to the next control in Moscow. The ZZ Top tune playing in my head was replaced by the Beatles "Back in the USSR."<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Not as tasty as advertised</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Nyet! I must be lost again!</span></b></i></td></tr>
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The terrain on the 57 was more lightly rolling. Heading due west into the southwest wind was not too hampering. I covered the nine miles efficiently arriving in the town of Moscow ("dont know how lucky you are boy...back in the USSR"). I refill water and document my passage at the small gas station market. I am on the road in about 10 minutes. In less than a half mile the TN 57 is left in favor of more rural roads. There are 31 miles left to cover. I long ago abandoned any though of a fast time. I lost a lot of time with navigation problems. I had expected a tail wind assist over this last section. The reality was more of a cross wind coming from the west across my left side. The terrain remained predominantly flat as I approached the city of Memphis. I was riding through the suburbs on nice roads with pleasant surroundings. The cue sheet was spot on for this final leg. It was smooth sailing to the Kwik Stop where I began my day over 10 hours earlier. After documenting my finish I would ride the one mile back to my hotel. There was a Panera Bread in the area I planned to visit.<br />
<br />
<b>Epilogue:</b><br />
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Initially, I had thought of riding a second 200k permanent on Sunday starting in Knoxville, TN, ninety miles to the east. I gave up on the idea in favor of visiting the home and burial place of Elvis Presley, the undisputed King of Rock and Roll. On Sunday at 10:00am a shuttle bus drove me and dozens of other tourists through the front gates of Graceland. For the next hour and a half I toured the large home and massive grounds where the King resided until his death in 1977. While I was never an Elvis fanatic his music and movies surely had some influence on me during my teen years in the 60's. I learned a lot more about him and his lifestyle on that tour. It was well worth the time.<br />
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I ended my visit to Memphis, and Graceland, by standing aboard the Lisa Marie, which was the private plane, a Convair 880, which flew Elvis to his concert dates world wide. The decor, which dated back to the 70's, would be considered gaudy by today's standards. I really liked it. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>The Elvis Car Museum </b></i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Boo-Ya!</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<br />Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-29989033361556187762012-04-12T08:45:00.000-07:002012-04-12T08:45:29.361-07:00Springfield Missouri 300k - A Wet and Wild Pre-Ride<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiXhnYc0Dq_7r8f-nZgYzi-92pcdSkVrqyG3pAyMUOltM00OB96cHbCXiWcT0O2HF6WiqPBA3WIiV4W36vw6taZglv6h2BKzAnh1-4HKAtlYo6OQKXIxcC_doO9krgj58UciZOfPPWUzs/s1600/Dan+%2526+Joe+300K.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiXhnYc0Dq_7r8f-nZgYzi-92pcdSkVrqyG3pAyMUOltM00OB96cHbCXiWcT0O2HF6WiqPBA3WIiV4W36vw6taZglv6h2BKzAnh1-4HKAtlYo6OQKXIxcC_doO9krgj58UciZOfPPWUzs/s400/Dan+%2526+Joe+300K.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> During my extended stay in Arkansas the town of Springfield, Missouri, one-hundred miles to the north, has been my local region for randonneuring activities. Since the beginning of the year I'd ridden four permanents, and a 200k brevet, mostly in the company of the small group of local randonneurs. Ralph, the brevet organizer and owner of numerous permanent routes typically hosts a ride every weekend. As I regularly joined in on these rides I was welcomed and accepted as one of the group. As the 300k approached I was given the option to join the pre-ride, one week prior to the scheduled date. Riding with the small group of riders I'd come to know was appealing to me.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Training</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>There were three of us at the 6am start. Ralph and Dan were my riding companions. It was a cool 47 degrees as we started out in darkness from the York Elementary School in Springfield. Our first control stop would be in Miller thirty-eight miles to the west. After just seven miles we hit a railroad crossing with a stopped freight train. It's a common event in the area. Long freight trains pull into side outs to allow trains passing in the opposite direction to go by. This process can block the crossing for as much as 30 to 40 minutes. Fortunately, this time the wait is less than ten minutes. Back underway, now in daylight, the sun has an immediate warming effect. As the terrain changes from flat to very rolling the internal heat starts to build. The hills feel good on the fixed gear. Just the day before it was outfitted with an all new powertrain (see epilogue). After riding some miles on the historic section of Route 66 we transfer to farm roads which lead us to the control. While taking a short break I notice that Dan is running a set of radial laced boutique wheels with a low spoke count. I mention to him that a broken spoke on one of the wheels would surely end his day. I would later regret making the comment.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyBfx7aVP2VN55M8laQIkddJUiqHYVSJvnFUnVF97bNHXvLo6XS76ZrRu91QtqQ8TYgbJ2nZkwdMjD7WrkD_BVE30V9gAyZCwEVCOegEJWAynUYoEwMHKb_aYk5hgzcqyBA6hgiB5tdJA/s1600/spr30015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyBfx7aVP2VN55M8laQIkddJUiqHYVSJvnFUnVF97bNHXvLo6XS76ZrRu91QtqQ8TYgbJ2nZkwdMjD7WrkD_BVE30V9gAyZCwEVCOegEJWAynUYoEwMHKb_aYk5hgzcqyBA6hgiB5tdJA/s400/spr30015.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Ralph riding mustache bars</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Dan with dark clouds ahead</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table> Back on the road we are headed for Jasper, thirty-three miles to the northwest. The terrain is moderate with a light tailwind. The skies cloud over as the thunderstorm threat predicated for the afternoon appears more likely. The temperature remains comfortable. We continue to make good time without working all that hard. The area is quite rural with views of farm fields and there is little to no traffic. We follow roads that are designated with letters "UU", "NN", "K". They are flat and open to the wind, which for now is in our favor. As we near the control I point out the dark clouds looming ahead. Soon we see lightning off in the distance. In the final mile to the control we begin to feel the first raindrops fall. I expect that a thunder storm will blow through quickly.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Approaching control</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>At the point we are ready to depart the rain has picked up a little. We all take to the roads with our rain jackets on. Our next destination is Joplin, twenty-nine miles to the south west. The terrain is moderate most of the way. The rain steadily increases as does the wind coming from the west. After about ten miles I begin to feel somewhat chilled, especially my fingers which are unprotected in short gloves. Lightning and thunder explode around us as we continue without thought of seeking shelter. Things go from bad to worse when Dan fails to see a pot hole that was filled with water. The result is an immediate crash to the ground. Unhurt, he quickly gathered himself and resumed riding. We were now dead into the wind and getting pelted by strong rain. I was freezing cold and my hands were two blocks of ice. When I saw we were approaching a convenience store I assumed it was the control. I pulled in followed by Ralph and Dan. As it turned out the actual control was more than a mile further up the road. We were all happy to be here just the same. Dan had a flat on the rear due to the crash. After removing the wheel a broken spoke was discovered as well. After repairing the flat the wheel was too warped to ride. Dan would have to call for a ride home. I couldn't help but feel like my earlier comment about his wheels put the jinx on him. Ralph and I departed continuing to the proper control. I was wearing every piece of clothing I had, including winter gloves. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Trouble ahead</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>We breezed through the official control quickly heading back out towards the east. Thankfully the wind was now at our back. With the rain stopped and no headwind I quickly became too warm. Ralph also complained about being overdressed. Neither of us wanted to stop before the control in Pierce City thirty-two miles away. This being another moderate section we thought we could survive being a little too warm. We navigated our way on mostly flat farm roads and efficiently covered the distance to the control. I removed a layer of clothes, purchased a Snickers bar and was ready to start the last section. With fifty-five miles remaining it was certain we would not make the finish in daylight. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Ralph on the Rivendell</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table> This leg of the route featured continuous rolling terrain. Nothing particularly big to climb just constant rollers for the next 25 miles to the town of Aurora. For the first time in awhile I had the right amount of layers on. The hills on this section are spaced just right for my gearing. Dan and his wife pass by in the car on their way home. He pulls alongside to wish us luck. Before driving off he jokes that he still has an opening on the bike rack. Two hours ago I might have taken him up on it. As for now I'm having fun. The hills continue to just before Aurora. As we approach the town the skies are foreboding with flashes of lightning around. It begins raining as we pull in to the convenience store at the junction of the K Hwy. Although sunset is still over an hour away it appears quite dark. We switch to night gear and once again I don the rain jacket. We resume riding in the rain. <br />
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The remaining 37 miles are over mild terrain. Much to my surprise the rain ends after just a few miles. The wind begins to die off as well, which is fortunate as we are traveling to the northeast. With the clearer skies we enjoy additional daylight until almost eight o'clock. The clouds blocked the full moon so once darkness came it was quite dark. We made decent time over the flatter farm roads that would lead us to the town of Republic, and, finally the outskirts of Springfield. The final few miles are on Nicholas Street, which is a slight upgrade to the Elementary School where the ride began. We pull in at 9:34. The ride took a total of 15 hours and 34 minutes. Given the circumstances both Ralph and I were satisfied with that. Although, more miles were ridden dry than wet the feeling of being soaked and freezing hangs with you for a time. I would have a four mile ride back to my hotel. I love commuting on a fixed-gear.<br />
<br />
<b>Epilouge:</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimIA-HZdR7tjjbNZEfDkaxHk2nP35nlaSisGboUfRfgimFSYdeauPMJGC9PlSClR2wBEYZ8v0FrMXF-VMukMXjdX2rUbRPcRL6Fe6wnPGQKREsn8sW5akXzynlmtrtqrAVz9bRRtHXfjE/s1600/spr3004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimIA-HZdR7tjjbNZEfDkaxHk2nP35nlaSisGboUfRfgimFSYdeauPMJGC9PlSClR2wBEYZ8v0FrMXF-VMukMXjdX2rUbRPcRL6Fe6wnPGQKREsn8sW5akXzynlmtrtqrAVz9bRRtHXfjE/s400/spr3004.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">A first rate downtown bike shop</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table> I felt it prudent to perform some maintenance on the Jamis Fixed-Gear before the 300k. I noticed the chain was not seating properly on the chain ring. Just sort of riding on the top of the teeth instead of sinking in. On closer inspection it was clear the ring was seriously worn and shark toothed. Concerned about riding a long distance with the drive train in that condition. I departed for Springfield ahead of schedule in search of a bike shop with the hardware I needed. I went to Queen City Cycles in the downtown area. I'd been there before and knew that they do a good amount of business with fixed-gear bikes. It was a lucky day for me as they had what I needed in stock and were willing to install everything quickly. Jeff, one of the mechanics, replaced the entire drive train; front ring, rear cog and chain. I was pleased an impressed that they had a ring and a cog with the same tooth count, so my gearing would remain the same. A five mile ride around the city streets with everything spinning smooth and quiet had me feeling confident that my machine was up to the task the next morning. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfoHR1w-PCrEWqEIuAFDgX8hTp3rPT8872SdOpWckgRQpajuMNpinK2VOmvfsqEIBLJntr-lKbGgev8cQMritaO6n06XIL9hdm6SbW-CxyhvONh_6ps6o1W5o7OiR9Vtii-fRcjtKr0d4/s1600/spr3009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfoHR1w-PCrEWqEIuAFDgX8hTp3rPT8872SdOpWckgRQpajuMNpinK2VOmvfsqEIBLJntr-lKbGgev8cQMritaO6n06XIL9hdm6SbW-CxyhvONh_6ps6o1W5o7OiR9Vtii-fRcjtKr0d4/s400/spr3009.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Smooth</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table> This being my fifth trip to the city I began to notice things that were missed on prior visits. I discovered that there is a significant bike culture there. Near my hotel there is a combination bike shop and coffee bar. The owner at one time rode PBP. The city has numerous bike lanes and a police department that maintains a dialog with the local bike clubs. Combined with the historic Route 66, which passes thorough the town, there is a lot for cyclists to enjoy. I selected a vintage Best Western Motor Court as my hotel on this venture. It was on historic 66 and played to the theme. It was a fun to be temporarily blasted back in time. I get the appeal of riding the famous roadway from end to end. Embracing a time when things were a lot less complicated. Sort of like riding a bike with only one gear.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqbDHn9Us5eLSkxfwQ9E-PBbrSCcUn1oTOkN8ec655UMKkgPasW8YzLw7k2eGmVGqiAThmN74dXoqzJDv0TJQl6FZFPwp2RSAXlRisgv7qz70kzJluEyvBbRQv2ilm5AMf1eiGJl47bFU/s1600/spr300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqbDHn9Us5eLSkxfwQ9E-PBbrSCcUn1oTOkN8ec655UMKkgPasW8YzLw7k2eGmVGqiAThmN74dXoqzJDv0TJQl6FZFPwp2RSAXlRisgv7qz70kzJluEyvBbRQv2ilm5AMf1eiGJl47bFU/s400/spr300.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">A motel from another Era</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUSpEz9qJhLj9tjbZ9bRi7e3jj_BFxeFKLfOSv2D2J3rMHzSA6Y0fCEdoCF28KLT8oRD60Lqb3Q-0P49-2pbYHYPLcxiEsnCsGimM66pi6xWpQxiLAkSYjxgmkW9Wc-8dxM6YYyks3SB8/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUSpEz9qJhLj9tjbZ9bRi7e3jj_BFxeFKLfOSv2D2J3rMHzSA6Y0fCEdoCF28KLT8oRD60Lqb3Q-0P49-2pbYHYPLcxiEsnCsGimM66pi6xWpQxiLAkSYjxgmkW9Wc-8dxM6YYyks3SB8/s200/004.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Boo-ya!</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-54047610912651205702012-03-30T07:04:00.000-07:002012-03-30T07:04:40.249-07:00A Missouri Weekend of Riding - Springfield 200k + Boltons 115k<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwb9-OsONjknUlmdXatKnK4WtYpRjgl57VkK7Gmi5eWfBVeklmVK39f8rBiEGYDCN8faMuVfTA6DcREG1MM6i9WXivVJW1FIrr7pyYAKYoIN48ocRo1qsjgRVVGxD8WX8wbUDr8N54tw/s1600/moflowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwb9-OsONjknUlmdXatKnK4WtYpRjgl57VkK7Gmi5eWfBVeklmVK39f8rBiEGYDCN8faMuVfTA6DcREG1MM6i9WXivVJW1FIrr7pyYAKYoIN48ocRo1qsjgRVVGxD8WX8wbUDr8N54tw/s400/moflowers.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> From northern Arkansas to the nearest brevet activity is a bit over one-hundred miles. With a perfect weather forecast for the entire weekend, and a 200k brevet on the schedule, I felt a strong urge to make the trip. When I got word that a small group would be riding a 115k permanent the day after the brevet I made plans to be there for both events.<br />
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<b>Saturday -The Springfield 200k</b><br />
<br />
I'd actually ridden this route as a permanent for my February R-12 ride. With the exception of a different start/finish, and turn-around control, the majority of the course is the same as Rt 66 & Cooky's Pie, which I rode solo last month.<i> (see February blog report).</i> On this occasion there were 12 other riders at the start. About half the group were from a local racing club. They were training for an attempt at a four hour century. At the starting signal they were off like a shot. Knowing better than to go out fast I started out alone at the very back. After two miles I passed four riders. Then, I came across Jamie who was dropped by the fast group. We rode together through the hilly first section to the control in Miller. Although, I kept my time at the control short Jamie took even less time. I walked out of the market to see him riding up the road. I was able to see him up ahead for most of the way to the turnaround control. With this being a pretty flat section we both faced headwinds. It was too bad we were riding alone at the same pace. A few miles out of Golden City I saw the fast group, already on the return. They were in a tight pack and moving quickly. I thought I might re-group with Jamie in Golden City for the ride back. But, a navigation error in the small town caused me to lose about five minutes. As I approached the market he was already on his way out. With a tailwind on the return I didn't expect to catch him. With only 70 gear inches to work with I would not have the same advantage.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Rolling</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>The day had warmed to about 80 degrees. I removed my arm and knee warmers and left the control for the ride back. Unbelievably, I made the same navigation error on the return through Golden City. Another bonus mile. I finally found my way out of town on highway 37. The wind advantage was immediately noticeable. Even better on the "A" Highway going south. Looking at the time, I calculated that another sub nine-hour finish was possible today. With that as motivation I used as much of the wind assist as my gearing would allow. Certainly, I was making better time than on the way outbound. A few hills arise just before the control in Miller. I arrive there as the only rider. Jamie was already through.<br />
<br />
Taking no more time than what it takes to refill a water bottle I am on my way. The final section features some substantial rollers. Using the Electronic Cue Sheet <i>(see Epilogue in previous blog post)</i> my navigation through a sequence of Farm Roads goes flawlessly, as does the Historic Route 66 section. At mile 107, I turn onto Farm Road 156 which is a seven mile stretch of steep rollers. I remember it as being the most tiring succession of hills on the course. Once again it meets my expectations, although the tailwind helped some. The remaining Farm Roads which bring me into the city of Springfield are considerably less daunting. Soon enough I am back at the Fire Station where the ride began. Ralph is there to sign me in. My time is 8:44, another fixed gear personal best.<br />
<br />
<b>Sunday - Bolton's 115k Permanent</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLDGu2OjZA2_yk2H0BrNu0O9HL5HMiRyGcwB4FmtJpNM6V3QgJT0aUjldPGwMRvevZM__0aqAD6FKRAF69sNGknOtCRU5OmKoxeTdOi1HkfJY54-G5if5-cbFULVevJX7SkXLQyKUOaXo/s1600/mo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLDGu2OjZA2_yk2H0BrNu0O9HL5HMiRyGcwB4FmtJpNM6V3QgJT0aUjldPGwMRvevZM__0aqAD6FKRAF69sNGknOtCRU5OmKoxeTdOi1HkfJY54-G5if5-cbFULVevJX7SkXLQyKUOaXo/s400/mo.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">A good name for a bike club</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table> Feeling somewhat beat up from the effort of the previous day I arise early and work through a one-half hour yoga routine in my hotel room. The stiffness of my leg muscles is greatly reduced after the session. I ride the 3.5 miles to the start, at a Fast & Friendly convenience store. Shortly before the scheduled 7:30am start my three riding companions arrive. Ralph and Dan I've ridden with before. I meet Tammy for the first time. All the riders are experienced, but Tammy and I are new to the route. The group departs on time for the first 19 mile segment to Fair Grove. There are a few medium sized climbs and a couple of big descents. It occurred to me that I would be climbing those descents later on the return. Once at Fair Grove we took a short break at the convenience market, then departed for the next section to Willard. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrEIHaP0Ct6oMsbbz3dB782t9vEWyE8PGzlU9CfoB5iKjE_DQVHa5xOJM8wGIfDQsjj2ggPEX_r31B2KkBagH82UNjbxBsclokqATijBSuWbkWh6BrIbVtsqCLleiDdr4U-WqkqYdisM/s1600/moralph2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrEIHaP0Ct6oMsbbz3dB782t9vEWyE8PGzlU9CfoB5iKjE_DQVHa5xOJM8wGIfDQsjj2ggPEX_r31B2KkBagH82UNjbxBsclokqATijBSuWbkWh6BrIbVtsqCLleiDdr4U-WqkqYdisM/s400/moralph2.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Ralph works his way through rolling terrain</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSgeDhF33utQkFI64AHIyKyP_uwjtRjV28iiFVpwV8FJDsqXph5s60k4pUxL58dvpZ1maXkR1Fq-DbtYYfGzp4x5idIgr8Luvr9ZIS4OpmoamQJYdk25d-HJdwlOh-nd_UfsYc4bEOcbM/s1600/moboltons2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSgeDhF33utQkFI64AHIyKyP_uwjtRjV28iiFVpwV8FJDsqXph5s60k4pUxL58dvpZ1maXkR1Fq-DbtYYfGzp4x5idIgr8Luvr9ZIS4OpmoamQJYdk25d-HJdwlOh-nd_UfsYc4bEOcbM/s400/moboltons2.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Control coming up</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table> The next segment is on the Trans America Bicycle Trail. Ralph commented how difficult some of the hills are for the loaded touring bikes that frequent these roads. I was thinking they were not so easy for a fixed gear either. There were no turns until we reached the highway just a little more than 1/2 mile from the control. It was basically a 15 mile roller coaster ride to the turn-around point. The thought of returning via the same route was a bit daunting.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKYDJBTNskPBxj47mxZSt9PGsk20Q4fTVEA-9tHfI4Lz0S8hwBX89Z9ihG27AhE_b4fnq3Hyo5VhM8B9bDwtRUVvvkXQX2uoUOyaFSl00xJLzqhG-MsnNXpinIpHy5w7Vlow9737ZPD3s/s1600/motammy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKYDJBTNskPBxj47mxZSt9PGsk20Q4fTVEA-9tHfI4Lz0S8hwBX89Z9ihG27AhE_b4fnq3Hyo5VhM8B9bDwtRUVvvkXQX2uoUOyaFSl00xJLzqhG-MsnNXpinIpHy5w7Vlow9737ZPD3s/s400/motammy.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Tammy</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis_Yi4h4K7Rr2NKhQgFcQfxiIN3tcZSMxuFjH-kv2gGYKx7VbntL1YjWsv9y6dpUY6o5c91dJY1X6hzoGBmPjB7NzbR9-q-1hN3x-UUqIE8L0ozvwXTAFj1PY5JDYRD1QvLtZPw61kmO4/s1600/modan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis_Yi4h4K7Rr2NKhQgFcQfxiIN3tcZSMxuFjH-kv2gGYKx7VbntL1YjWsv9y6dpUY6o5c91dJY1X6hzoGBmPjB7NzbR9-q-1hN3x-UUqIE8L0ozvwXTAFj1PY5JDYRD1QvLtZPw61kmO4/s400/modan.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Dan</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKp4E2G-D0I1QBTVtTGVhuJjsZMf5nA2pvSp82ISn8QCwJNZVun2xrnwY07epN4KrTcbt5uqaWVaRr0EIivABSfuEU8s2cvIQpfZV65BhZYOLYkFRkYvFXuSeixe1er8jy0uQfggu0NUI/s1600/mobuds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKp4E2G-D0I1QBTVtTGVhuJjsZMf5nA2pvSp82ISn8QCwJNZVun2xrnwY07epN4KrTcbt5uqaWVaRr0EIivABSfuEU8s2cvIQpfZV65BhZYOLYkFRkYvFXuSeixe1er8jy0uQfggu0NUI/s400/mobuds.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Ralph, Tammy and Dan at Bolton's General Store</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table> The control was a quaint gas station and general store. They requested we sign their log book reserved for cyclists. We took a nice break to rest our legs. After the rest we somewhat reluctantly resumed riding heading back over the same terrain. The back side of the hills were somewhat easier than in the other direction. We arrived back in Fair Grove in good time. I discuss keeping the control stop quick with the hope to finish the ride in under six hours. The group was agreeable and we are off on the final leg. Even the big hills didn't feel too hard after all the prior climbing. We were able to maintain a steady pace over the final 19 miles to the finish. We clocked in at 5 hours 55 minutes. A new course record.<br />
<br />
<b>Epilogue:</b><br />
<br />
Traveling to events out of the home area has advantages. RUSA recently announced the American Explorer Award recognizing members who have completed brevets and permanents, of at least 200 kilometers in length, in 10 or more states. Thirty-two RUSA members immediately qualified upon announcement of the award. Yours truly with a total of 16 states. It was an unexpected bonus to receive this award. Since it didn't previously exist it wasn't one I was chasing. Hats off to the volunteers at RUSA for coming up with another imaginative incentive. <br />
<br />
With the season at hand this is the time I settle on my goals for the year. My primary focus is on the Ultimate Randonneur Award and the Mondial Award. A single SR series will cinch the first of the two. To accomplish the latter I will need to accumulate 11,000 total RUSA kilometers by December 31. My year to date total is 2464. I believe both goals are manageable, however with the unpredictability of life nothing is a sure thing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4np5ZH3i6VA4tnhDoGhvQ0kIAmcTON8uDAuUr-ej50WVFtWBZIczKEhd4lRjEUPoddAbYQy9A9FCPwnDmV-SxrdY6Zui_FnYCfZXA8JyXFdqMvS-ZOlApXaStX4mBhB65zoLcN-d7h0A/s1600/mome1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4np5ZH3i6VA4tnhDoGhvQ0kIAmcTON8uDAuUr-ej50WVFtWBZIczKEhd4lRjEUPoddAbYQy9A9FCPwnDmV-SxrdY6Zui_FnYCfZXA8JyXFdqMvS-ZOlApXaStX4mBhB65zoLcN-d7h0A/s200/mome1.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Boo-ya!</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-61060929880850577242012-03-21T19:24:00.002-07:002012-03-22T05:41:16.628-07:00George Dickel 200k - Nashville, Tennesee - A Fixed Gear Personal Best!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Z_7Kvl1OVUry_dnIHCSv6VhOErSsGGSPcN0snHl298ytrEvoQYqrrVymr41p3KEItblm4gp-BEj-JMvPqXDuGSc820DEpuZg9wqAuBSQ9HTr0sQ6oNONJkhJQUGeYiigwSfQaYrqqtk/s1600/GDlowbridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Z_7Kvl1OVUry_dnIHCSv6VhOErSsGGSPcN0snHl298ytrEvoQYqrrVymr41p3KEItblm4gp-BEj-JMvPqXDuGSc820DEpuZg9wqAuBSQ9HTr0sQ6oNONJkhJQUGeYiigwSfQaYrqqtk/s400/GDlowbridge.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> Once again I find myself passing through the famous Music City. As luck would have it there happened to be a 200k and 300k brevet scheduled which fit nicely with my travel plans. I hadn't been on an actual brevet since last November when I rode the Turkey Trot 200k with this same group. All my rides since then where 100k-200k permanents. Twenty-five of them to be exact.<br />
<br />
There was a nice turnout with close to 30 riders waiting for the start at the Brentwood YMCA. Only two riders were there for the 200k, myself included. I had ridden the 3.5 miles from the hotel to the start in the darkness. It was a warm humid morning, almost 60 degrees at 6am. The forecast called for a high temperature in the 80's with a strong chance of thunder showers for the afternoon and evening. I was hoping to make good time on my fixed gear and avoid the worst of the wet stuff. As I listened to the RBA give pre-ride instructions it occurred to me that the 300k riders might not be able to hold out that same hope.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeUtRvG-MSsCGvXR7xxH-xwGRGoYBie9T-XVQbxoaTsTjy8mGRH3UXgEQwVfzrlGViZtdJ3LIQRwT_ot9tAXHa00IKFRY00DYC3kq1TmNcI0BlARnYVoq9MbbRjw_E7QvN9gNjTDEcR5s/s1600/gdrd5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeUtRvG-MSsCGvXR7xxH-xwGRGoYBie9T-XVQbxoaTsTjy8mGRH3UXgEQwVfzrlGViZtdJ3LIQRwT_ot9tAXHa00IKFRY00DYC3kq1TmNcI0BlARnYVoq9MbbRjw_E7QvN9gNjTDEcR5s/s400/gdrd5.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">One of numerous moderate grades on the r</span></b><b><span style="font-size: small;">oute</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>We were given the signal to start right at 7am. Both rides start together and share the same route for the first and last 100k. The Nashville group likes to go out fast from the start. Which is contrary to my preference. I watch the majority of the group quickly gap me as they head out. There is some moderate climbing, but not much. I warm into the ride and begin picking up speed. After about ten miles I start passing riders, some in small groups. The first control, a grocery in College Grove, is at 20 miles. This comes up quickly. There are about eight riders there including the RBA Jeff Sammons. Needing nothing I manage a five minute stop and leave the control with Jeff and three other riders. They are all on the 300k. We ride together and chat for a few miles. They maintain a relaxed pace which is reasonable for the early stages of a 300k. I start to lose them off the back on some of the upgrades until finally they are out of sight. The sun makes a strong appearance with the temperature rapidly heating up. The wind is a very light cross to tail. I am managing a nice pace rolling at 18 to 20 mph on the flatter sections. I don't encounter any other riders to the next control at mile 48 in Bell Buckle, Tennessee. As I prepare to depart a few pull in. I leave alone after a total stop of ten minutes. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi49OBIMNRPnTCoiNo9A6Pw76m_jJeEuhERum3JUs_IE7BPCNrN6Ze0hxi2f7j-1SQLy3YuzNxnLazKKHhxGgDXNsJsD-Vi6qUWArGkEt9VVRiUMIMAP8l5KX6ako3fJ9lT9G6GW_xXrKM/s1600/GDfarmsign2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi49OBIMNRPnTCoiNo9A6Pw76m_jJeEuhERum3JUs_IE7BPCNrN6Ze0hxi2f7j-1SQLy3YuzNxnLazKKHhxGgDXNsJsD-Vi6qUWArGkEt9VVRiUMIMAP8l5KX6ako3fJ9lT9G6GW_xXrKM/s400/GDfarmsign2.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Plenty of farms around</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>The largest rolling hills of the day present themselves on this section. State Road 269 is a five-mile stretch with some rolling hills. The road surface is smooth with light traffic and the effort feels good to me. A similar long stretch follows on Bugscuff and Cortner Roads. After which, I negotiate my way to Cascade Hollow, Tennessee, where the George Dickel Distillery is located, The Visitor's Center of the whiskey manufacturer is the half-way control of the 200k It is a quaint storefront where guided tours of the facility start and end. I arrive in time to see a small group tagging along behind a guide. Despite the temptation to join in, I manage a 10 minute stop and am on the return. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrlXkiEqWqOytNRm7ICxt2GCtC4VeFikUfecqofeCPtN3oe2RpROmEECjNArjpkItPGtRSk95tC2gZP6d_V_QZMtvafi6HtBi9CIjJJ6vqA1HtQgnki29GGoWfHsmsshkXtqZt2RId4uY/s1600/gdstore2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrlXkiEqWqOytNRm7ICxt2GCtC4VeFikUfecqofeCPtN3oe2RpROmEECjNArjpkItPGtRSk95tC2gZP6d_V_QZMtvafi6HtBi9CIjJJ6vqA1HtQgnki29GGoWfHsmsshkXtqZt2RId4uY/s400/gdstore2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">The Visitors Center of Geroge A. Dickel Distillery</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Retracing the route I pass by riders headed outbound on the 300k. It occurs to me that I have a chance at finishing the brevet in under nine hours. This has appeal as it would represent my fastest fixed gear result. To make it happen I just need to keep moving. I vow to keep the control stops to the bare minimum. The only part beyond my control is the weather. If the forecast is accurate thunder showers are likely. How much that may slow me down remains to be seen. In the meantime, I'm working the rolling hills section hard. I come across two outbound riders at the top of the hill. I assume they are the last ones. I'm not aware of the location of the single other 200k rider. I assume he is behind me as I did not see anyone coming back on my way to the turnaround. I expect I will ride solo to the finish. The control in Bell Buckle is quickly reached. Needing only a water bottle refill I keep the stop to less than ten minutes. There is only one control left before the finish. The skies begin to darken as threatening clouds roll in. I see a few lightning flashes off in the distance. Soon thereafter a brief shower douses me. The temperature remains warm so I leave my rain jacket in the pack. This section is the most complex to navigate with lots of turns, many unmarked. Thanks to well detailed directions from the organizer, and the Electronic Cue Sheet device that I've been testing (see epilogue) I arrive at the control in College Grove without error.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEgXk9xKPAfY_4RcI0AQpW-X3tebJuDhO5E_xCfN2Z1-r1BDDizHJdZoYdtCJTCdlY9UsiBc5WpBWQNP4MZdig2Q2x1krg_P4pCeSWY815B2mJ7QMcdigzRIRkGaGdaACS0G0hYY2RWhM/s1600/gdrider.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEgXk9xKPAfY_4RcI0AQpW-X3tebJuDhO5E_xCfN2Z1-r1BDDizHJdZoYdtCJTCdlY9UsiBc5WpBWQNP4MZdig2Q2x1krg_P4pCeSWY815B2mJ7QMcdigzRIRkGaGdaACS0G0hYY2RWhM/s400/gdrider.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">An unknown rider on the 300k wearing a PBP jersey</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>In less than ten minutes I am rolling again. Twenty miles to go with a thunder shower or two along the way. I'm on target for the sub nine hour finish, as long as nothing goes wrong. The rolling terrain is handled aggressively with me pushing my 70 inch gear on both sides of the hills. The traffic is heavier as I near the Nashville suburb of Brentwood. A myriad of turns gives the ECS unit a hardy trial, for which it performed flawlessly. The final two miles is on a bike path that connects to the parking area of the YMCA. I fly along the wet paths and pop out at the back of the parking area. I sprint to the front entrance to get my brevet card verified. This is done quickly by the two ladies working the desk. My official time is 8 hours and 54 minutes. A fixed gear personal best, done all on my own.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Epilogue:</b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Ujqou_jt-p7qpIkOaXF1R0wUCX058opyWc_tMHottXhg_xM5qR1ogyvX6tuOwxtkIUdHlVluW5a75AenRtE4g8FtUm3wPJi407wsqjvUpAMu0JASzxKD-h5MzHB8fvW-izWkVbDbnwo/s1600/GDecuesheet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Ujqou_jt-p7qpIkOaXF1R0wUCX058opyWc_tMHottXhg_xM5qR1ogyvX6tuOwxtkIUdHlVluW5a75AenRtE4g8FtUm3wPJi407wsqjvUpAMu0JASzxKD-h5MzHB8fvW-izWkVbDbnwo/s400/GDecuesheet.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">The Electronic Cue Sheet by Rick Lentz</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>I must confess to having a little technological help on my first brevet of the season. I used the Electronic Cue Sheet designed and built by fellow NJ Randonneur Rick Lentz. I was asked to test out the unit to help Rick determine its readiness to be marketed to randos everywhere. I am somewhat technically challenged and have until now limited my electronic accessories to a basic Cat Eye computer. Following the directions I was capable of downloading a route into the unit and displaying the cues throughout the ride. It functioned great, and, no doubt saved me some amount of time. At no point did I have to stop to flip cue sheet pages. Also, I did not have to continually search down the page for the next cue causing me to slow in the process. The scrolling feature of the ECS allows one to continually keep the next cue at the top of the screen. I made no navigational errors on a route that was totally new to me. That was a big plus. I'll continue testing the unit on other rides, but so far I'm impressed with it. <br />
<br />
The winter of 2012 has been all fixie. While I find it takes a bit more of a physical toll on me I've been able to keep the same pace with last years mileage totals. At which point I will finally give this bike a rest is uncertain. I will likely continue through the early spring rides and evaluate my feelings after that. It is not beyond the realm of possibility to stay fixed for the entire season. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd7zE7tOwa5abl1cxKJwo9Be5lajxPg62Z7ly4gQInHbj_tJKREH3f-MJtA62g3vxb-akj2m0trGXmYsy5hyphenhyphenIQFewkOsIeZqUsdaSGivsoGU22tf4HwMRr1KNb9upjsTJ7qXyaiyOToZQ/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd7zE7tOwa5abl1cxKJwo9Be5lajxPg62Z7ly4gQInHbj_tJKREH3f-MJtA62g3vxb-akj2m0trGXmYsy5hyphenhyphenIQFewkOsIeZqUsdaSGivsoGU22tf4HwMRr1KNb9upjsTJ7qXyaiyOToZQ/s200/004.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Boo-ya!</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-51124769348810117042012-03-02T06:42:00.001-08:002012-03-02T06:50:13.490-08:00Natchez Trace Tour - 144k Permanent X 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO9_xihwMQCkesgZi90OZhEd4ow8vqRdOtXBLyEpvt5YaVZDy4KS4PX9pWugi7BnKqgInY0khXCaxUAeengZOqRi7-6mpymNvot-330EQ9VOvh7Kk4MrDvXBAgU78GCHZeYplZUVcxCek/s1600/ntsign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO9_xihwMQCkesgZi90OZhEd4ow8vqRdOtXBLyEpvt5YaVZDy4KS4PX9pWugi7BnKqgInY0khXCaxUAeengZOqRi7-6mpymNvot-330EQ9VOvh7Kk4MrDvXBAgU78GCHZeYplZUVcxCek/s400/ntsign.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br />
I can't seem to pass through Nashville, TN without spending a day riding in the area. My favorite venue is the Natchez Trace Parkway, which is a 442 mile roadway extending to Natchez Mississippi. The roadway is designated an Historical National Park. It features a smoothly paved surface, meticulous landscaping, and very minimal vehicle traffic. There are several RUSA permanents that utilize the famous roadway as the primary route. I arranged in advance to ride one leg of Michelle Williams' Natchez Trace Tour. A 114k free route between Pasquo, TN and Collinwood, TN. The shortest and most desirable passage between the two points is the NT Parkway. The return from Collinwood, if undertaken by bike, counts as a second permanent, which I opted to begin one-half hour after finishing the first one. From control to control would be 90 miles each way. If completed within the time limits, I would earn 288 official RUSA kilometers.<br />
<br />
I left the convenience store adjacent to the NT Parkway promptly at 6am. It was dark and 42 degrees. The weather forecast called for a high of 67F with showers beginning in the afternoon. Strong, and potentially dangerous thunderstorms were predicated at night. It was my hope to be finished before the heavy stuff moved in. The northern portion of the NT is a bit hilly, but nothing daunting. I enjoy riding it on my fixed gear using 70" gearing. Sunrise began just fifteen minutes into the ride, with full daylight by 6:45. I could feel the morning sun warming me up. I quickly fell into a nice rhythm on the bike. The moderate grade hills felt very nice and I was making good time. With thirty miles behind me I had the sickening feeling of my rear rim hitting the pavement. I stopped at a bridge and inspected the tire. It had about 10 pounds of air left in it. An apparent slow leak. I used a mini-pump to pressure up to about 85 lbs. The tire felt firm so I continued to ride. In ten miles I felt the rim hit again. This time I would change the tube and look for the offending problem. After searching extensively for something in the tire I could find nothing but a small hole in the middle of the tread. I used the US Treasury Department tire boot before putting in a new tube. Back on the road I was now confident that my problem was over and the rest of the ride would go smoothy. The next twenty miles were perhaps the most enjoyable of the day. I felt like one with the bike. Rolling smoothly like butter on an impeccably clean two lane. Then I felt the rim hit the pavement. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitF4Q8i0tddDTXMHdQLalDrvz5s5JfPadd8kNjzV8RH8kGTd_srkS5PQq69FuUzJRAAx5nV90t7AUXjgXh5K84HPNIFFoHlhJfzhVBIpCQizIcf8eu33-fb_juZdllEggtQF2tI8Rm1uQ/s1600/ntsunrise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitF4Q8i0tddDTXMHdQLalDrvz5s5JfPadd8kNjzV8RH8kGTd_srkS5PQq69FuUzJRAAx5nV90t7AUXjgXh5K84HPNIFFoHlhJfzhVBIpCQizIcf8eu33-fb_juZdllEggtQF2tI8Rm1uQ/s400/ntsunrise.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="font-size: small;">Sunrise on the NT Parkway</span></i></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table> I cussed loudly as I peeled the tire from the rim again. I was upset that I had not taken an extra tire with me. I had decided to leave it in the car as the roadway was so clean that flats were unlikely. The hole in the tire, which I had booted, was apparently not the root of the problem. I could not discover what was causing the pin hole sized puncture in the tube. I combed over every millimeter of the tire, finding nothing. I put in a new tube and pressured with a quick fill to 120 lbs. The tire felt rock hard as I got back underway. With forty miles to Collinwood and one spare tube remaining I believed I would be able to finish the first permanent. However, I was having serious doubts about the return permanent. The little town hosting the control does not have a bike shop. If another flat occurred my plan would be to get a taxi from Collinwood to the nearest bike shop to purchase a new tire. If time allowed I would take the cab back to start ride number two. Although, I was not sure the little town would even have a taxi. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8G0MB3wGjQOyQzG50uuhM6GKNTnIpGM7WaVV1V5S-F-9v71vxxBoJB3yEt-J3NoUfNzTyupryG3HK6_THmXVI7NRGlWfuOKwnYZMjWvEJbGxl8AXkHneLZNLIPWyZioRGkfSUwS97wOk/s1600/ntroad2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8G0MB3wGjQOyQzG50uuhM6GKNTnIpGM7WaVV1V5S-F-9v71vxxBoJB3yEt-J3NoUfNzTyupryG3HK6_THmXVI7NRGlWfuOKwnYZMjWvEJbGxl8AXkHneLZNLIPWyZioRGkfSUwS97wOk/s400/ntroad2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Many miles of smooth road lay ahead</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table> As luck would have it the remaining miles to the Collinwood exit went without a hitch. Less than half a mile from the parkway I pulled into the gas station convenience store that served as the control. I pushed my thumb into the rear tire that still felt rock hard. I allowed myself to hope that my day would be getting better.<br />
I checked into the control at 1:30pm. Permanent number one was done in 7 hours 30 minutes. I could start Permanent number 2 at 2:00pm, which allowed time for lunch. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjve0Fmc9Pv1Zl5UCVuOZ9VeW2rivHKX0kQWSC3W1xG_CZtf7RYquY5aGh1hBeeBV6FqtDkBz6KCA6Q64dsb5lUGD9ihbpKhSZCxT-KiY5swHrZgZvVSWkjoXMflpIANG_UPIyUd9swz88/s1600/collinwood2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjve0Fmc9Pv1Zl5UCVuOZ9VeW2rivHKX0kQWSC3W1xG_CZtf7RYquY5aGh1hBeeBV6FqtDkBz6KCA6Q64dsb5lUGD9ihbpKhSZCxT-KiY5swHrZgZvVSWkjoXMflpIANG_UPIyUd9swz88/s400/collinwood2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Collinwood, Tennessee</span></b></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KmUjMednRbkcGMclgZDzhczDiQjfigAfLO4vdLtGgbuh8fkrlkKRWShF3MKdsbcUjwJPpe-MKV0u1rme5sbJcQe6UPrB2ILXOyilF2YjR_wdwaiQ64MSRGLpYGBe_b6cHj9W8Y6EG24/s1600/collinwood1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KmUjMednRbkcGMclgZDzhczDiQjfigAfLO4vdLtGgbuh8fkrlkKRWShF3MKdsbcUjwJPpe-MKV0u1rme5sbJcQe6UPrB2ILXOyilF2YjR_wdwaiQ64MSRGLpYGBe_b6cHj9W8Y6EG24/s400/collinwood1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Official Park like building in Collinwood, TN</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table> Heading back out to the NT I noticed the cloud cover rolling in as predicted. It was plenty warm, in the upper sixties, so a passing rain shower or two would not be that bad. Although, I was still hoping to stay ahead of the more severe weather. The wind direction from the south would help me meet this goal. Providing, I could keep air in the tires. As the miles ticked off I became more confident that I would make it through without further problem. It is quite isolating out there on the lonely roadway. I rather enjoyed the feeling and the quietness of the place. There would not be a stop sign or traffic light until the finish. Darkness fell shortly after 5:30. I had about 40 miles remaining to the finish. The NT is even more isolating at night. Other than a few dim lights at the comfort stations every 10 miles or so there is no artificial light. My bike lighting was the only source. Occasionally deer would jump out of the blackness into my headlight beam. It was a little startling for both the animals and me. Otherwise, the air temperature remained comfortable, no rain fell and my tires were holding air. Life was good. I really was enjoying the pleasant night.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9aAcN6m6kgUY0yN6_Bn2NA1odbMbmdSxuxqfqGiDAjZL4cxSOJj6SGqj7oen65hPn-O4xIiI3ey-W3ba4_t_q-frqxK5YdVDNbYyT1QngjcJFHKeXccUBqPn3vDbaRyMh5WQVwrL1KLM/s1600/ntmudhole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9aAcN6m6kgUY0yN6_Bn2NA1odbMbmdSxuxqfqGiDAjZL4cxSOJj6SGqj7oen65hPn-O4xIiI3ey-W3ba4_t_q-frqxK5YdVDNbYyT1QngjcJFHKeXccUBqPn3vDbaRyMh5WQVwrL1KLM/s400/ntmudhole.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">I opted not to visit the Mud Hole</span></b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> The NT features sign posts on the northbound side designating each of its miles. My exit would be just past the 442 marker which is the last one. I looked forward to each mile as I neared the end. The terrain is the hilliest near the norther terminus. I climbed a gradual upgrade aggressively and was rewarded with the appearance of mile marker 438. I then felt my rear rim hit the roadway. After many miles my problem tire finally lost its pressure. I calmly but quickly worked to re-pressure with the mini-pump to 80 psi. I only needed it to hold for four more miles. It did. Going flat again on arrival at the finish, which was no longer a concern. That tire would never roll another mile. I intend to dissect it, if necessary, to find the small invader that cost me much time and trouble. However, that could wait for another day. This day I rode 180 miles on fixed. Permanent number two was finished in 6 hours 40 minutes. <br />
<br />
<b>Epilouge:</b><br />
<br />
I have a strong urge to ride the Natchez Trace Parkway from end to end on fixed gear. Permanent route owner, Michelle Williams has a network of RUSA approved rides that allow one to ride every inch of the famous road, and receive credit for it. Four permanents strung together traverse the whole thing in one direction. The routes can be reversed for a return, if desired. The multiple permanent concept allows for a more leisurely experience than a single route. Instead of a continuous ticking clock one can take a time out between rides, including a full nights sleep. I'm not sure if I want that, or a more traditional sleep deprived rando experience. Either way, my intent is to do it. I will ride alone if need be, but company is always preferred. Anyone interested in joining me on the adventure can let me know. I'm open to riding one-way or round trip. The ideal time would be the fall. Tennessee, Alabama and Mississippi can be deadly hot in summer. Let's pick a date. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg83BBNFyn7rvC3tR58D9t625GPqE3Y8bd5G4qBAeBZJeBdK_vV-6wQyfAzOZWXM1KfYzkHl_HvQdEql6K7inBh50ntDBF7UzH1zuAGolt5_YTvyGDvo_k8oTtYgTu0QPG_A77uSdo4OE8/s1600/0202121355.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg83BBNFyn7rvC3tR58D9t625GPqE3Y8bd5G4qBAeBZJeBdK_vV-6wQyfAzOZWXM1KfYzkHl_HvQdEql6K7inBh50ntDBF7UzH1zuAGolt5_YTvyGDvo_k8oTtYgTu0QPG_A77uSdo4OE8/s320/0202121355.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Boo-ya!</span></b></i></td></tr>
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Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425273995260012240.post-74465624548678229342012-02-20T14:56:00.000-08:002012-02-20T16:22:03.018-08:00Route 66 & Cooky's Pie 205k Permanent<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmoRcUr7pEzsyMC1k82E_0qTieUxGS36Sftqdtm4usbRxS34v6JS_ughR2uUEuhwJIa6VbFlO3mldvf41mrcEGebGWGtyD2ev43_TC9haPn1kLf5BtlDw_c-VgKznYP6Y-XbOdOemyX3c/s1600/rt667.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmoRcUr7pEzsyMC1k82E_0qTieUxGS36Sftqdtm4usbRxS34v6JS_ughR2uUEuhwJIa6VbFlO3mldvf41mrcEGebGWGtyD2ev43_TC9haPn1kLf5BtlDw_c-VgKznYP6Y-XbOdOemyX3c/s400/rt667.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><i><b>"If you ever plan to motor west,<br />
Travel my way, that's the highway that's the best,<br />
Get your kicks on Route 66."</b></i><br />
</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Upon waking at 5am I tuned in The Weather Channel on the motel room television. A variety of cycling clothing was laid on the bed awaiting my final decision. The local report for Springfield, Missouri called for a high temperarture of 43F with 10 to 20 mph winds and a 50% chance of showers. This was not the news I was hoping for, With a slightly soured mood I selected the days attire and readied myself for the 06:30 start.<br />
<br />
The designated convenience store, which serves as the start, was locked up tight despite the posted hours indicating it should be open. I rode to a second location just a few blocks away to obtain my documentation. I was the lone rider signed up for the out and back permanent known as Route 66 and Cooky's Pie. A portion of the route is on the Historic Route 66. Despite the less than perfect weather I was excited about the ride. With my store receipt safely tucked in the pack I started out through the city streets, which were wet from an early rain shower. My Jamis fixed gear rolled smoothly through the quiet of the morning. At that moment no precipitation was falling and the temperature was a comfortable 42 degrees. A cloudy daybreak occurred just fifteen minutes into the ride. The route passed by the Springfield-Branson Airport on the outskirts of the city which appeared quite still at the early hour. Soon thereafter the surroundings became more rural and considerably more hilly. The roads began to dry with the increasing wind. Mostly blowing across my right side as I traveled west. At mile 17 I reached the Historic Highway. Now designated as the MO 266 since the decommissioning of US 66. There were occasional historical markers indicating one was traveling on the famous road. Just to the south was the I-44, which accommodated all the serious traffic. The 266 was strictly for locals, and, for those folks seeking a less rushed, more nostalgic travel experience. The historical theme prompted some businesses to sport a vintage look. I passed an old store (mercantile) in Halltown that played to the Route 66 theme. Also, a couple of filling stations authentically depicting a time long past. The advertised 15 cents per gallon gas price at the Sinclair made me smile.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrdmvWGhcMbOzkz8hnJz3td1g33XJmlwjmwZsZyA4J2BKj0JfZLSakzS1Cz7lrp021hSQzmk_bsvFkZZN_mrR5qXZMPUxQfKLzHPdVw39M5z09xxQX40U6_Q-Q3ueijHeMs44xb-BD0YQ/s1600/rt665.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrdmvWGhcMbOzkz8hnJz3td1g33XJmlwjmwZsZyA4J2BKj0JfZLSakzS1Cz7lrp021hSQzmk_bsvFkZZN_mrR5qXZMPUxQfKLzHPdVw39M5z09xxQX40U6_Q-Q3ueijHeMs44xb-BD0YQ/s400/rt665.jpg" width="300" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><i><b>"It winds from Chicago to L.A.,<br />
More than 2,000 miles all the way,<br />
Get your kicks on Route 66."<br />
</b></i></span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>I worked my way up a number of good sized rolling hills on the first section. The roads were pleasantly traffic-free. The only creatures up and about were cows, horses, and dogs. Some of the latter were free to roam and took the opportunity to join me for exercise as I passed by. After leaving the Route 66 portion a series of local farm roads designated by the "FR" prefix, followed by a number, lead me to the first control in Miller. At the Casey's General Store I enjoyed half a peanut butter sandwich and a coffee before continuing.<br />
<br />
The next section to Golden City featured more northerly travel, which was dead into an intensifying wind. The route flattened out and became more open. The rural roads in this area were marked with letter desingnations, ie; UU, N, A, NN. Rain began falling lightly as I worked my way through this quiet region. I could hear the raindrops hitting my jacket, and the wind in my ears. There were no other sounds. I thought of the Simon and Garfunkel song "The Sounds of Silence". I even sang a couple of verses aloud, purely for my benefit. There was no one else to hear it. The lettered roads brought me to the MO 37, just four miles south of Golden City. The push into the wind felt good. I looked forward to arriving at the control. The sign at the city limit indicated 865 people resided there. A sleepy little downtown area included the control known as Cooky's Cafe. From the outside the place was an old looking diner. Upon entering I noticed about 15 fresh baked pies lined up on the counter. There was a quaint, authentic look about the establishment. I estimated that half the town's population was seated at the booths and tables. I seated myself at an empty table and was quickly approached by a waitress. I assumed the permanent owner put the words "Cooky's Pie" in the route name as a suggestion. I took the hint. In short order a generous slice of blueberry pie was placed in front of me. After which the waitress brought me a quest book to sign. This was exclusively for cyclists. I read a few of the entries and added one of my own. I lingered a few minutes with a coffee enjoying the atmosphere, then reluctantly departed for the return trip to Springfield.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">"Now you go through St. Looey, Joplin, Missouri"</span></b></i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp-SKOI7UiwTDlP-F_O5ppvmdCwBr13ZxnNdcgVAge_KjpKOYN3Yog7VYHezPLja9dD0SmD1GIUf67-8xc89FRynrm0VnqIAFDEIP-DAKSw-Au8D4WJur62rlSD2drFadAWNk5qIpm6n8/s1600/rt6614.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp-SKOI7UiwTDlP-F_O5ppvmdCwBr13ZxnNdcgVAge_KjpKOYN3Yog7VYHezPLja9dD0SmD1GIUf67-8xc89FRynrm0VnqIAFDEIP-DAKSw-Au8D4WJur62rlSD2drFadAWNk5qIpm6n8/s320/rt6614.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><i><b>"And Oklahoma City is mighty pretty.<br />
You'll see Amarillo, Gallup, New Mexico,<br />
Flagstaff, Arizona, don't forget Winona,<br />
Kingman, Barstow, San Bernardino."</b></i></span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>My exit from Golden City was expedited by a spiffy tailwind which blew me to the turn-off of the Missouri A. The resulting cross wind was not nearly as pleasant, but was managed effectively with Cooky's pie fueling the way. Another turn onto the "N" brought me more wind assisted travel which was abruptly interrupted by a flat tire on the rear. Not a single vehicle passed by while I was working on the side of the road changing the tube and pressuring the tire. Just as I was tightening the rear hub bolts a farmer in a pick-up pulled up next to me and asked if I needed any help. The offer was much appreciated.<br />
<br />
Back underway I began to fret about the time I'd lost. The second cup of coffee at Cooky's, plus the flat repair, were jeopardizing my goal of finishing by dark (5:50pm). I would be driving over 100 miles back to Arkansas after the ride. Finishing as soon as possible was desirable. The remaining lettered roads were ridden smoothly and efficiently thanks to some occasional wind assist. I arrived at the control in Miller just past 2:30pm. I took a total of about ten minutes to get back underway. With 38 miles to go I liked my chances of meeting the goal. But, everything else had to go right.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_43eBhsOSYA13rj8z4KG8uV1xtRnNh2l1jSLBo790qeayeNN3a-eQ9UoXefytSvFlHCCpgrlKPsq7J2yxKfDAD4XkF0_loNXvugBN4-k77kpYW09AUtVb1XzwdhglffziarAV70UyJto/s1600/route66two.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_43eBhsOSYA13rj8z4KG8uV1xtRnNh2l1jSLBo790qeayeNN3a-eQ9UoXefytSvFlHCCpgrlKPsq7J2yxKfDAD4XkF0_loNXvugBN4-k77kpYW09AUtVb1XzwdhglffziarAV70UyJto/s400/route66two.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><i><b>"Won't you get hip to this timely tip:<br />
When you make that California trip,"<br />
</b></i></span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>The opposite sides of the same hills I climbed in the morning presented themselves for the return. I felt fine and climbed aggressively. A few more raindrops fell, but same as before they never materialized into anything. Despite riding the same roads earlier in the opposite direction I had a navigation problem. My first of the day. I passed by a familiar looking intersection that was incorrectly marked. The road I was on turned to a dirt surface about a mile later. I retraced and turned at the previous intersection which was soon confirmed as the correct direction. I scored two bonus miles on that one. Just two miles later I came to another intersection that was unmarked. The cue sheet called for a right on the M Highway. I wasn't sure this was it. I took the time to confirm my location using the GPS in my cell phone. The intersection was right and I resumed riding. The hills persisted through the historic portion of the MO 266 and I kept pushing with a good energy level. A few of the same dogs from the morning came out to greet me again. I was focused on my goal and paid them little mind. With sixteen miles to go I felt my energy fade a bit. I stopped to fish out a Snickers bar from my pack and quickly continued. The rural area yielded to the suburbs and soon I was passing by the airport on the outskirts of town. Daylight was fading quickly with the overcast skies. The final long stretch was almost four miles on Nicholas Street. I could see the beam from my headlight on the road, although I didn't need it to see. I arrived at the finish at 6:10 pm. Beyond the official sunset time, but there was still some useable daylight. I'm a little fuzzy as to whether I made the goal or not, but I did finish my 35th consecutive R-12 ride. To quote Metallica; "Nothing Else Matters".<br />
<br />
<strong>Epilouge:</strong><br />
<br />
Living in an area with multiple brevet regions within a 100 mile proximity is something I've taken for granted. In more sparsely populated areas of the country it can be a bit more challenging to get to an RUSA sanctioned permanent, or brevet. The city of Springfiield, MO, located in the Southwest corner of the state, is not a region with an RBA. Fortunately, for myself and other like minded folks the area does have Ralph Rognstad, Jr., the owner of eight RUSA permanent routes all starting in, or near, Springfield. They are a collection of creative, interesting rides ranging from 100 to 200 kilometers. Flat, hilly, and hillier variations are all on offer thanks to Ralph's tireless efforts. He routinely e-mail blasts his regular riders with his choice of ride for the weekend. Inviting any or all to join in. While Springfield is over 100 miles from where I am staying in Arkansas it has been well worth the trip. I've completed three of Ralph's permanents. One of which was in the company of Ralph, along with Dan, one of his regular riders. These guys travel over three hours to Kansas or Illinois to complete their brevet series each year. It takes serious dedication to be a randonneur in this region. I'm certain the local riders have appreciation for what Ralph has put in place. I know I am grateful for the opportunity to keep my R-12 streak alive. Thanks Ralph!<br />
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To learn more about Ralph click here: http://www.rognstads.com<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVpNKda5LBZBVhlYFH9fou5TaYUSOQ3fj35hTXX5JyBpCOKPH_K9c_BEwwmP4mW4s9KyPdG6edZf_czvjPUgaoCH-dUfI3LTRWwzsnzwbUeJQd9dxvucWPPuV6BuUh45QyNF6XuBlppOw/s1600/0202121355.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVpNKda5LBZBVhlYFH9fou5TaYUSOQ3fj35hTXX5JyBpCOKPH_K9c_BEwwmP4mW4s9KyPdG6edZf_czvjPUgaoCH-dUfI3LTRWwzsnzwbUeJQd9dxvucWPPuV6BuUh45QyNF6XuBlppOw/s320/0202121355.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><i><b>"Get your kicks on Route 66."</b></i><br />
<em><strong>Boo-Ya!</strong></em> </span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Rando Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13203112659017722051noreply@blogger.com0