12K

12,000 miles.   12K miles.   12 big ones.   62,496,000 feet.   That's how many miles I now have recorded on strava for riding my Fargo.   There'll be a few extra hundred miles or so of non-recorded riding too.  Overall that feels like a pretty good accomplishment.  Great bike.  Great fun.   Still feels like there is a lot left to this relationship for both of us.   Go Far.  Fargo. 

Finishing 327 miles in 25 hours on the Ohio To Erie Trail

Every Single Time

It gets me EVERY. SINGLE. TIME!   You would think I would be accustomed to riding in the wind by now ... some 10+ years into my "serious" cycling career, and more than 35 years as a regular rider. 

Yesterday I went out on a moderate 3 to 4 hour ride.  I had to go to the Trek Store in Westerville to pick up some new XT pedals I had ordered.  Figured I would ride over -- you know, combine the workout with the errand.   I diligently checked the forecast before I left and saw there was a 7mph wind coming from the ESE.  The direction was a little unusual for us, and 7mph is no biggie.  

I start riding West towards Cbus and I am flying.  I feel like a million bucks.  I am sure I am pro-cycling material, just waiting to be discovered.   A little voice in the back of my head was shouting out, "Hey, its just the tailwind, stupid!  You're not really this fast".   I was consistently hitting 18mph heading uphill and 22mph heading down.   All on my Fargo, a drop bar 29er mountain bike with 2.2 inch tires.  JRA -- nothing really serious.  No hard tempo effort.  Just enjoying the brisk fall day.  And despite that voice of reason in my head, I just couldn't manage to shake the feeling that I am really good at this cycling thing. 

Then, of course, I headed back home.  The return trip into the wind.  I had hoped that the wind would shift back to its usual west direction.  It didn't.   I had hoped that the wind would die down with the setting sun.  It didn't.   There I was with my heart rate sailing into the stratosphere and my average speed tumbling off a cliff, trying desperately to push a bike-sized hole into the headwind.  It was tough.  Character building tough.   No more easy-peasy 20mph.   Tough slog at 15mph. 

You'd think that I would have figured out this wind thing by now.  I guess not.   Maybe I need more practice. 

Rick Miller's Sunday Gravel Ride

Rick Miller hosts an awesome gravel ride from his house each Sunday morning.  I've been dodging his invites for several months, sometimes legitimately and sometimes because I had another ride plan in the works.   As I was supposed to log big miles on the fatbike and his distance/pace seemed compatible with that goal, I finally committed to joining his ride.  Rodney and Mike, ride regulars, also joined in the fun. 

It was a very chilly 24 degrees this morning.  Hard frost on the car windows and all the flora.  I had a hard time figuring out how to dress as it was supposed to reach 50 deg by noon.  I finally opted for regular shoes with booties, leg warmers, bib shorts + jersey, arm warmers, light windbreaker, thin cap under the helmet, and my "45 deg" gloves.   I was chilled at the start but warmed up about an hour into the ride. 

I chose my fatbike for the day knowing that I would be working hard to keep up with the other three on elite cross bikes.   We are all pretty equally fit so it was going to be an extra slog for me. 

We headed East out of Utica into the "valley of the cold" as Rick put it.  The temps dropped to 22 deg.  We wove our way East across regular hilly gravel routes towards Girl Scout.  I love this area and hadn't climbed in the Northeast direction in years. 

I talked the crew into heading North to the Chestnut Ridge area north of Walhonding.  We climbed Bats Nest and then descended Stone Quarry.  Both are abandoned roads that are more like ATV tracks.  Going up is easier on the cross bikes; I can't believe those guys made it down SQ on those skinny tires.  I was rocking the fatbike all the way down a wild descent.  We hit our first creek crossing at the bottom and my booties managed to keep my toes dry. 

We were getting on past 2.5 hours at that point and I was running through my food.  So we turned the corner at Cavallo and started heading home. 

The most adventurous episode of the day, was crossing the Kokosing River.   It is about 75 yards across; today the water was about 6" to 8" deep.  I was wary because my feet get cold more quickly than other people and I didn't want them to be wet.  Suprisingly my booties managed to keep most of the water out.  We had a very long climb out of the river valley over the ridge to the south.

We hit another small creek at Mill Creek Rd and then wound our way back Westward towards Utica.  I had 63.5 miles 7300' climbing at 12.9 mph.   It was an epic day!

No TransIowa This Year

The lottery for rookie entries in TransIowa was held last night.  I didn't make it.  It really never occurred to me that I wouldn't be racing 340 miles of Iowa gravel next April.  It was really a shock!  I'm kind of dumbfounded, really.

There were about 40 spots for rookie entrants this year.  I was #18 in sending in my postcard.  For most of October, there were more spots than entrants.  Then in the last week quite a few postcards filtered in.  All in all, 73 of us were vying for those coveted 40 spots.  Still my odds were greater than 50-50.  I just assumed I would be in.  And then I wasn't.  I am majorly bummed.  

Things have to come together in just the right way in order to want to tackle this race.  I am holding awesome late-summer form well through the fall.  I have a 150 ultra snowbike race in January.  All the things were aligning for a great run at the TI course and challenge.  And now it all falls apart.

I have to scramble to find something else for motivation.  Maybe I'll travel to southern Utah in March for the True Grit 100 mile mtn bike race.  It is supposed to be ultra technical with tons of climbing.  I like both. 

2015 Dirty Kanza 200

Now that nearly six months have passed, it seems like a great time to write a race report from my DK200 experience.  Talk about procrastination!

This is my second time tackling this monster challenge.  For most of the last 10 years, I have been competing in 100 mile mountain bike races as part of the NUE series.  Deciding to branch out a bit, I went last year to try my hand at 200 miles of gravel racing. 

Last year's event (2014) was a blast.  It was SUPER hard.  Once I crossed the finish line I remember clearly promising "I will never do something that stupid again!"   It literally took every ounce of my energy last year to crawl across that finish line in 16 hours and 4 minutes.  But I was smitten on this new racing format.  What I didn't accomplish last year was to "race the sun" and win the special award/recognition for beating sunset to the finish line (about 14 hours 44 minutes).  Once my body healed and my mind returned to its regular version of insanity, I vowed to return to conquer the race-the-sun challenge.  What I didn't realize is that 2014 provided nearly idea weather conditions.

Fast forward to 2015 with a larger than normal field of more than 1500 total DK racers.  I think something like 1000 alone raced in the full 200 mile event.  It is remarkable how quickly Jim Cummins and his crew have grown this event.  It also speaks to how terrific is this racing format and this particular event.  My Dad came with me this year as support crew.  I was actually born in Emporia, KS and so my father wanted to return partly to see the town again that he had lived in so many years before.  We made the 12 hour drive out on a Thursday.

Friday is all about race preparations.  We stayed in the Emporia State dorms, ate breakfast, got my racing packet and attended the pre-race meeting.  What was painfully obvious was the weather.  For the prior two weeks, this part of KS had been inundated with solid rain.  Non stop almost all month.  Same thing in Ohio too.  A freakishly wet spring.  All the rivers on the course were so swelled that several re-routes were needed.  But clearly it was shaping up to be an epic mudfest of a ride! 

We depart at 6am on Saturday morning, still in the morning darkness.  It wasn't raining at that moment, but it had rained steadily most of the previous day and that night.  The ground was wet everywhere.  All 1000 riders headed out of town in the predawn light.  It was also chilly, but I like chilly.

We hit the first gravel section just outside of town and could see the pools of standing water everywhere around us.  The road was muddy and we immediately got sprayed by the bike tires in front of us.  Still we were managing good (20mph) speeds through the first 10 miles.

At mile 14 the world came to an end.  My racing buddies have told me stories of B-roads in TransIowa where the mud is so thick and gooey that you have no choice but to walk in the ditch.  It is one thing to hear about it, it is quite another to actually experience it.  I recollect arriving at that section of B-road and wondering why is everyone suddenly dismounting?  All these riders in front of me "going down" in waves.  It reminded me of the horrible opening scene of Saving Private Ryan when all the soldiers are mowed down by machine gun fire.

I ignorantly rode straight into the B-road mud fest (it looked so innocent) and my mountain bike doubled in weight almost instantly.  Thick goo covered my tires and immediately became encased in every nook of my bike.   My shoes tripled in size (cement shoes they call it) as goo stuck everywhere.  I joined the throngs and marched over the ditch on the side of the road, hoisted my now way-too-heavy bike on my shoulder and started walking.

It was four miles and 60 minutes of agonizing hell.  My bike was way too heavy.  I kept slipping.  People were piled up everywhere so there was no place to go around, or to stop and rest without clogging up the line behind you.  It seemed to go on and on and on far into the horizon.  In retrospect, the challenge was more mental than physical.  Because it was so unexpected, I think I handled it rather poorly.  It really seemed to defeat me.  Plus I realized, almost at the very start of the race, that I had little to no shot of my race-the-sun goal.  It turns out that this was the only real hike-a-bike section, but I had no way of knowing that then.  For all I knew, I would be carrying my heavy bike for the next 200 miles ... possibly into the next week.

 But that stretch eventually ended.  I made it to the first checkpoint (Mile 75) about 2 hours later than expected.  I regrouped mentally and checked my attitude into a "can do" frame.  And I got to work.

 The rest of the ride alternated between "rideable" and "very muddy but still barely rideable" sections.  I confirmed what I had suspected ... that I was in very good shape for this race.  I passed people all through the race once I got beyond the four mile hike-from-death.  I passed hoards of people, fast people even.

I ate well and kept the pedals moving.  A highlight was catching up to Tim Ek and chatting for about 15 miles as we rode into Checkpoint 2 together (Mile 150).  

I once again needed lights to finish.  I once again crossed the line in 16 hours and change.  Had the weather been better, I would have easily beaten the sun-setting goal.   Some things I learned:

• I was in great shape.  Probably the best cycling shape of my life.  The course felt easy all the way through.
• My GPS died at night.  This cost me about 25 minutes because I needed to stop and wait for a GPS person behind me to catch up so I could follow them.  I had to stick with them for the rest of the race even though I had energy to jump ahead.
• I had a great nutrition/eating plan.  No bonking, no cramps.
• I could finally ride into the wind strongly.  This is my nemeses as a cyclists.  But I plowed through 40 miles of a 10 mph headwind without trouble, averaging 15mph over rough sloppy terrain.  
• I'm glad I rode my mtn bike tired Fargo instead of my cross tired Warbird.  The bigger tires helped in the sloppy mud and I could plow through the rough creek bottoms at the bottom of each hill without worry about flats.  The Fargo only hurt me in the hike-a-bike where it's heftier mass was literally a pain in the neck.  I think in dry conditions I might try the Warbird.
• I am so coming back next year to kill that silly race-the-sun goal! 

GAP + C&O Trip ... in 24 Hours

Trip Planning

For several years I have had my eye on a trip on the GAP and C&O.  These two trails form a 340 mile "soft surface", off-road trail linking Pittsburgh and Washington DC.  My first foray on the trail was about 15 years ago.  A professor at Penn State runs a cycling class where the final exam is a century ride on the GAP trail.  The college student riders would start near the Salisbury Viaduct and ride Northwest to end in McKeesport.  I joined them for the final ride.  At that time, the trail had significant missing pieces near Pittsburgh, so we ended the route early.    I was primarily a marathon runner then, so I managed to squeak out the 100 miler on "running legs" but always vowed to return someday to explore more.

The GAP is the Great Allegheny Passage.  It follows an abandoned rail line that used to serve the coal and steel industries that once made this part of the nation the most concentrated area of industry and wealth in the entire world.  The 150 mile trail ends in Cumberland, MD where it immediately joins with the C&O trail.  The C&O trail is comprised of the abandoned Chesapeake & Ohio Canal towpath, a 184.5 mile trip down to Washington, DC.  All told, the combined trails span 336 miles from end to end and provide a great trip through American history and some amazing scenery.

I've been wanting to do this trip for more than two years, but bad weather and a busy schedule have all conspired to keep it at a distance. This weekend I was supposed to go race the Wilderness 101 mountain bike race in State College PA, one that I've done several years in a row now.  I decided at the last minute that I'd much rather try this trip instead and so switched gears at the very last minute.  I already had the weekend "reserved" and the weather was super.  I figured now was the time if I was ever going to do the trip. 

I absolutely love my Salsa Fargo.  I use it for road rides, gravel rides, exploration, casual riding, and even through two extremely hard Dirty Kanza 200 races.  I cleaned her up and loaded her with a good selection of bags.

I had to pack light enough to be quick, but take enough provisions to make it through.  On my Fargo, I had a gas tank bag, a feedbag and and tangle bag, all Revelate Designs.  I had a garmin GPS and a Spot tracker so my friends and family could follow my progress without me having to stop all the time to text them.  I had a SP dynamo hub hooked up to a super bright headlight and also a USB charger to keep the GPS juiced.  I took just a few tools, a very light change of clothes for the end, and tons of food.  I risked it by not taking any cycling clothes to change into, no jacket, and no other footwear.  The one place I didn't skimp was water carrying capacity; I mounted four water bottle cages and was glad I did. 

I had read an article in Bicycle Times about a tandem couple trying to complete the whole trail in 24 hours.  I thought this sounded like a neat challenge and would give it a try.  I have been wanting to explore more of the extreme adventure racing genre, expanding my horizons beyond a "long day race".  This trail and trip seemed to be the perfect distance and opportunity to try my first thru-night ride.  The tandem couple had a support crew following them along, providing food, water and support at very regular intervals.  Instead I opted to follow the "self-support" mantra of adventure racing relying only on what I brought with me and what I could buy or scrounge while enroute (in reality I had no choice -- no one was stupid enough to volunteer chasing me along the route all day and night).  With regularly spaced towns, I figured I always could bail safely into some B&B for the night if I couldn't make it through; the risks were as about as minimal as possible. 

My general plan was to drive to Pittsburgh early on Friday morning.  Start riding from Pittsburgh around 9am.  Get through Cumberland by dark.  Ride through the night and finish in DC sometime around 9am the next morning.  Logistically I had to figure out a way to get back to Pittsburgh with my bike.  Shuttles were expensive (about $500).  There was a Greyhound Bus leaving at 11am each day and an Amtrak train leaving at 4pm.  Both of these options required disassembling and stuffing my bike in a box, which I didn't have.  I guessed that I would be able to figure all this out once I got there and trusted that in an adventure like this, you just figure things out.  (Note: I have since learned that Amtrak just equipped their trains for roll-on service early this Fall). 

5am Friday, July 25

I woke up very early on Friday, July 25.  After walking the dog (one hour) and stuffing my face with my regular two breakfasts (another hour), I left home at 5am and drove the three hours from central Ohio to Pittsburgh.  I got settled into the First Center garage and hauled my Fargo out of the back of the car.   A guard monitoring the garage wasn't eager to let me in, figuring that I was going to be "on trail" for several days leaving my car to fill up his garage.  I managed to convince him that I would have it out of there by tomorrow night and he let me in.   I found the GAP path right behind the garage and easily followed a few street signs that led me the two miles or so down to Point State Park, the official start of the GAP trail.  There was only one other father/son team there heading out on the trail.  Official depart time 8:50am Friday. 

It was easy enough to follow the trail out of town and I had only a few minutes of traffic lights and things to negotiate.  Pittsburgh puts you on a dedicated trail fairly quickly.  I crossed the Hot Metal bridge just a few miles into the trip.  

The trail was paved for a while, maybe 20 miles or so.  I went by about 50 or so "through riders" in this segment who, like me, where all headed to DC albeit on a longer time scale.  Once I got through McKeesport, it got more remote and turned to crushed cinder / dirt.  Trail traffic became much sparser except for close proximity to a few towns. 

12:10pm Friday July 25th

I met this snake sunning on the trail just outside of Connelsville where I stopped for two cold drinks, a bag of chips and to refill my bottles, mile 60 or so.  I seem to need more food than my other fit riding buddies.  And I seem to need to eat earlier in a ride/race.  So I was keenly aware of loading up on calories constantly during this first 100 miles. 

 Before I knew it, I was sailing through Ohiopyle (Mile 75).  I had expected it to be more congested, more people.  There were a few crowds, but I got through quickly with only a stop for a photo op.  Last time I came through was a Saturday and it was so packed I had to walk my bike through. 

2pm, Friday July 25

At Confluence (Mile 87) I was planning a meal stop.  I had pictured the trail going right through town with numerous quick food choices, but it wasn't how I remembered.  I think the trail must have been re-routed away from its passage directly through town.  I had to go off trail for a half mile to find a barbecue joint.  Given my time constraints I didn't explore further into town.  I spent 20 to 30 minutes at the barbecue place, about 2pm or so, mile 90ish.  They actually had a porta-john with piped in music!  This was the only time I had to heed nature's call on the trip ... again, every stop is another few minutes I am not making progress towards Washington.

5:10pm, Friday July 25

Next up was the Salisbury Viaduct (Mile 117).  This is an impressively loooooong span.  There was a noticeable uphill grind most of the way on this first third.  I had been scaling the Western face of the Eastern Continental Divide for the last 40 miles or so.  The grade was not steep, but it was noticeable.  Worse there was a headwind, about 5 to 7 mph.  Again, noticeable.  The sun was hot where there was not shade.

I didn't take too many pictures on this trip and there were so many things to photograph.  Pursuing the 24-hour goal kept me humming along and kept the stops to an absolute minimum.  At this point I was roughly 35 min ahead of the sub 24-hour goal.  I was almost at the top of the divide too and looking forward to a downhill tilt.

Having grown up in Central PA and spending too much of my childhood on a mountain bike in the remote foothills, I have become aware of the subtle changes in flora and geography as the trail/road nears the top of the numerous ridges.  I could definitely "feel" the elevation I had achieved over the last few hours.  Finally I hit the Contintental Divide, about mile 127, 6pm or so.  

 I took a quick pic of the Big Savage Tunnel, not bothering to get off the bike. 

 And a quick snap of the Mason Dixon Line.

 After the Continental Divide, it was 2% downhill for 20 miles or so.  I really enjoyed sailing down this stretch.  After about 4pm, I saw very few people on the trail.  I think most people quit early in the afternoon.  Here the trail parallels the famous steam railway, but it wasn't in operation at the moment.

During this GAPt phase I must have passed a hundred or more riders.  Most were day riders, only about 10% looked like they were carrying gear for the whole trip.  Only one rider passed me.  He was on a Salsa Ti Warbird and went by at 22mph or so.  During this first phase I had been managing just over 16mph average rolling speed.  My legs felt very solid -- I had taken it easy and felt well positioned for the 60% of the trail that still lay ahead.

7pm, Friday July 25

I made it to Cumberland around 7pm.   In Cumberland I had to again go off trail to find some quick food.  I had to settle for Wendy's (yuck) and snarfed a burger and extra large lemonade.  I hit a gas station for two bottles of ice tea and stuffed a 10 piece chicken nugget into my feedbag.  I topped off my four water bottles.  I was planning on stopping at a C-store somewhere before midnight but that never happened. 

I was more than an hour ahead of schedule at this point, mostly due to the high speed descent into Cumberland.  I burned about 25 min in Cumberland knowing this was a key stop to refuel before the long night ahead.  

Dusk was arriving as I settled onto the C&O.  The trail was in better shape than I had anticipated.  Yes, there were patches of mud most all the way, but three days without rain had dried most of them up.  The GAP trail is largely crushed cinders.  It is a flat and relatively smooth surface.  You could do this trail on a road bike, but a cross bike (28mm to 35mm) tires would be perfect.  My 2.3" mtn bike tires were overkill, but I don't think they slowed me down much at all.  The C&O is a bit rougher.  This trail is some gravel, but I would say it is more dirt than anything.  As it was dry, the surface was relatively firm.  There were numerous potholes all along the way which I could dodge or ride through.  Most were dried up but some were still slick and gunky in the bottom.  I remember several moments in the middle of the night where my bike slid sideways, fishtailing slightly, and I had to pull myself out of a fall.  There were enough roots and potholes to keep me on my toes.  It was difficult to settle into a rhythm as the bouncing was just enough to disrupt me and keep me out of the saddle.  Here I am glad I had the mtn bike tires.  In the daylight I am sure I would have been fine with cross tires (or even road tires).  But in the dark, when it is hard to see relief in a flat, uni-dimensional headlight, I could trust my mountain bike tires to roll through things I couldn't see well enough to dodge. 

I stopped taking pictures at this point because it was dark and I didn't see any major landmarks.  Clearly this was not going to be a trip that wins any photography awards.

The C&O has a very different character than the GAP.  Much more remote feeling.  I had expected to go through towns, see gas stations and meet lots of people.  But I was enclosed in this very dense tree canopy and felt like I was a million miles away from anyone else.  There were hardly any structures on or near the trail, let alone businesses.  Looking at the map, there are towns nearby, but you don't see them on the trail.  I only saw campgrounds about every 10 miles or so.  The signs for towns off the trail are all so small that I couldn't read them in the dark.  It is hard for me to tell how much of this is attributable to real character difference and how much is due to the darkness. 

Throughout the day there was lots of wildlife to see.  I caught view of two snakes, a trail chicken, a wild turkey, and zillions of bunnies (rabbits will not become extinct anytime soon).  On the C&O I spotted many many deer especially at dusk, three possums, and two hoot owls.  There were tons of small bugs, clouds of them, on the C&O.  I suspect this was partly because of the night hour.  But I had to ride with my mouth shut or I'd be swallowing them the whole way.  Squeeters too, all over the C&O which provided extra motivation to keep the wheels rolling.

9pm July 25 - 7am July 26

I did fine with my first thru-night ride.  I had no issues with nodding off or hallucinating.  The trail conditions meant I had to constantly scan the trail for mud pits and dodge them all night long.  It was like a 9 hour video game marathon session -- spot a pothole and dodge it, look for the next one.  The last two hours, between 4am and 6am were the hardest mentally, mostly because I had expected to encounter daylight much earlier than it finally came.  There were several sections of the C&O that were a bit tricky to navigate.  It looked like there might be sharp drop offs on the side of the trail, but it was so dark that I couldn't tell.   The PawPaw tunnel and surrounding area was a bit difficulty to navigate in the dark; I think it was a chunkier rock surface here on the trail.  Again, I was glad I had the mountain bike tires and many years of mountain bike racing experience to draw upon.  Only once did I round a bend a bit too fast and almost fall off into the black abyss.  I had no idea if it was a 1 foot drop or something much worse.  I had to keep the speed in check.

I saw almost no one.   As I was passing campgrounds in the early evening, I would spot a few campers still up, circling around fire pits.  Early on Saturday morning, I saw a little trail traffic -- usually fishermen getting an early catch.  Between 11pm and 6am I saw only one couple.  It was about 1am on some remote stretch of the trail.  I think they were smoking a joint or something.  My headlight is so bright that I am sure it was blinding them.  I tried to deflect/cover it a bit so I wasn't so offending. Other than that couple, I felt like I was a million miles from anyone else for most all night. 

My biggest issue was lack of services.  I knew that by riding at night most of the regular stores would be closed.  But I thought I could find a late night or 24-hour C-store somewhere.  No such luck.  I ran out of water around 1am and had to search.   The park service has pumps at the campgrounds along the trail.  I tried one at 1:30am and pumped for 10 minutes ... nothing came out.  I tried a lodge of some kind ... no spigot.  So I rode another 45 minutes to find another pump.  This one had water after about a minute of pumping.  I filled all my bottles and made it through to the end.  I think I "wasted" about 30 min or so searching for water inefficiently; that was frustrating as I was watching the 24-hour goal tick away.  I was getting sick of Cliff Bars and wanted a real meal.  I started to feel low on energy with about six hours to go.  Those last six hours were a slog, and I suspect it has as much to do with lack of food than overall leg fatigue.

I had wanted desperately to try for the magical 24 hour mark.  I was ahead of schedule arriving in Cumberland.  A long stop there put me just ahead of schedule.  The bumpiness of the C&O made it hard to keep my 15mph goal pace, especially at night.  With about 6 hours to go, I could see it slipping away from my grasp along with my fading energy level.  I knew I wasn't going to make it.  So at that point I kind of mentally gave up on that goal and went into a slower mode instead of suffering greatly only to miss the mark by five minutes. All my years of race experience was helpful to let me do the "mental math" accurately so I knew how close I was to my goal and when it was reasonable to give up.

7am, Saturday July 26

The last few miles of the trail had some increased traffic.  The sunny pleasant Saturday morning had brought out tourists and locals running, dog walking and biking on the trail.  They slowed me a bit, but I was so shot at this point, I didn't care.  And I knew my 24 hour mark wasn't happening.

I pulled into Georgetown and made my way over to the Thompson Boat Center where the trail ends at Mile Marker 0 at 9:27am.  People had warned me that it is actually hard to find the official terminus of the trail.  I am glad I researched it ahead of time, because it was still difficult.  It would have been frustratingly impossible otherwise. 

My final stats were 336.5 miles.  24:37:00 elapsed time, 22:49:00 riding time.  14.8 mph riding pace.  Almost 6k feet of elevation gain.  Here is the link to my strava page and GPS file for this ride.

10am, Saturday July 26

I had almost no time to stop and celebrate or rest.  I still hadn't eaten since 7pm the night before in Cumberland.  I was filthy and tired.  But I also had to shift into "get home" mode. 

I wanted to make the 11am bus, so no time to stop and rest.  I "borrowed" a hose at the Thompson Boat Center to spray off my bike and legs.  I was covered in tons of trail dust!  I rode through downtown DC over to Union Station.  This was harder than I imagined because there is a highway that cuts behind the Lincoln Memorial.  It took me a while just to make the first mile or two, then I was fine once I got onto the Mall.  I arrived at Union Station about 25 min after finishing the trail.

It took a while to find and get my bike up to the Greyhound station at the top floor.  I bought at ticket at 10:15am (45 min till the bus departs) but had to get a bike box; the Greyhound clerk said I could get a box either at the Amtrak counter or at the Post Office.  Since the Amtrak line was hugely long, I decided to aim for the Post Office.  First I went into a bathroom to wash myself down and change into my regular clothes out of my scuzzy biking clothes.  Then hustled down to the US Post Office and waited in line for a few minutes.  No bike box.  Ugh!  Now it was 25 minutes till bus departure.   I went to the Amtrak counter where there was a long line. Bought a bike box and waited for it to be delivered at the freight entrance.  Finally got the box with like 7 minutes to spare.  Carried the box and my bike back upstairs to greyhound and started scrambling like mad to get it into the box.  Off with the seat, the bars, the pedals.  Stuffed everything in the box.  No tape to seal it, so just dragged it through the terminal.   Arrived just at 11am with my bus pulling out.  Ugh again!

At this point I still haven't eaten since 7pm the night before.  There is another bus leaving for Pittsburgh in 20 minutes.  Not enough time to run downstairs to get food and get back up ... I wasn't leaving the line to miss my second bus.   Unfortunately this bus was 45 minutes late, but we were never given any status updates.  So I never felt like I could step out of line to get food at the risk of missing a bus.  Finally got on the bus (with some rustling getting the sort-of-boxed bike on the bus).  We stopped at a Highway rest area for about 20 minutes.  Finally some food (sort of)!

7pm Saturday, July 26

We arrived in Pittsburgh about 7pm.  I got another bite to eat and then retrieved my car from the parking garage.  Seems strange to think I had just dropped it off about 36 hours ago, so much had happened in that small amount of time!  I drove the three hours back home and arrived back in central Ohio around 10:15pm on Day 2.  Funny thing -- my wife was hosting a party at our house (we do this like once a year at most), and so I walked in to my house (still filthy) to join the party in progress.  Beer never tasted so good!  I ended up going 44.5 consecutive hours without sleep.  It caught up to me over the next few days.

Parting Thoughts

I like to think that adventure riders and racers cosmically mix with their events.  When I do something huge like this, I think a little part of that trail comes home with me.  I feel like a different person.  At the same time, I think a little of me stays out on that trail, scattered out there somewhere over all those dusty miles.  

I would like to do this trip again as a three or four day option.  I know I missed a lot by zipping by everything and by riding half of the trail in the dark.   There are so many places to visit, explore, photograph and enjoy when you aren't whizzing by them at 16mph in the middle of the night.  In the years that I had been planning to do this trip, I had been reading about the trail history.  There are two excellent texts that I would heartily recommend to the book nerds out there.  The first is An Uncommon Passage written by Edward Muller.  It is a great history of the GAP trail and lays out all the important historical figures and settings during the big steel/coal era.  The second book is Home on the Canal by Elizabeth Kytle.  It details the long history of the C&O canal.  I love riding my bike through ghost towns and post-industrial landscapes after having done a bit of research to learn about the people who used this land before me. Otherwise I would only be gawking at the pretty scenery blissfully unaware of all that had unfolded there. 

I would also like to try the trip again to bag the sub-24 goal.  I know I could do this now I know what to expect.  Self-support definitely has a cost, because it does take time to find food and water and such.  But it is totally doable.  I would pack more food (real food) and spend more time locating late night food options so I know where they are ahead of time.  I think this trip is easier going East, getting the hill over with in the first half.  But it might also be easier to do the C&O in daylight as it is a rougher surface.  I might also take my cross bike next time which is usually about 1mph faster for me.

I also would like to bring my family to do parts of the trail on a multi-day, easier tour.   I'm lucky to have a cycling wife and two adventuresome kids. 

This is a fantastic trip!  My journey spurred my father and sister into action.  They attempted a 3-day crossing only to be outdone by the remnants of a hurricane which dumped buckets of rain on their head on Day 1.  I would highly recommend it to anyone looking for a little cycling adventure.  What an amazing asset this trail is ... and to finally have all the pieces in place.  I hope more long-distance trails like this pop up!  Join Adventure Cycling and Rails-to-Trails to help promote the development of experiences like this.

A New Direction

I've been off the blog for a while, over a year, so there is a bit of catching up to do.  I also decided to start blogging again following a new direction in my cycling.

NUE Series

My primary focus in the last few years has been racing in the National Ultra Endurance race series.  I typically do 2 to 4 of these races each year.  My results have been gradually improving as my conditioning improves.  And I've gotten to ride in some totally awesome venues. 

To date, I've done the following NUE venues:

1. Wilderness 101:  This is one of my favorite races.  It is on my home course of State College PA.  I am not normally a rock hound and this course has LOTS of rocks, but since I grew up here I am used to them and they don't bother me.  The course has good fire road climbs followed by harrowing steep rocky descents.  There is just enough variation to keep things from getting stale at any one point.  Plus I get to stay and eat at my parents' house so that takes off some of the logistical pressure.  I've done this race 6 times in the last few years, in addition to the 1993 effort (a totally different race experience).
2. Cohutta 100: I've done this twice.  It is not my favorite race.  Logistically it is hard for me since it comes early in the season (still cold here) and during the school year.  Plus it is a good drive distance.  Mostly it lacks variation.  There is a big singletrack section in the beginning, then just tons and tons of fireroads until the very end with a little more single track. 
3. Shenandoah Mountain 100: This is a good race.  I've done it twice, only completing the race once.  Both times suffered from wet weather, not my favorite conditions.  This course is probably the closest to the W101 in feel, but lacks the rocks and has a big hike-a-bike section that isn't fun.  It also comes during the school year, so logistically it is harder.
4. Hampshire 100:  My least favorite course.  It just isn't my style.  There is such a lack of single track so the course feels like a whole bunch of other stuff (roads, paths, bike rail trails, and lots of just bushwacking ) to piece together a 100 mile experience. 
5. Tatanka 100: I love this course, maybe my favorite venue.  It is really beautiful!  Challenging.  There is an impossible climb-a-bike part in the middle which is ridiculous, but otherwise I'd love to do this race more often it if weren't 19 hours of driving each way.
6. Breckenridge 100: This is the hardest venue hands down.  The altitude (9600 to 12600) makes it very hard.  It also has tons of climbing.  Very beautiful and typical of Colorado high country.
7. Mohican 100: This is my local course but I've only done it once.  It tends to be wet this time of the year.  It kind of feels like the Hampshire 100 course a bit, but not nearly as bad.  By far the easiest course for me to get to (45 min away), but just not my favorite race.
8. Lumberjack 100: I just did this race this year.   Nice course.  It is all single track (maybe a little double track).  Flowy, with some small climbs that add up to respectable climbing totals. 

I have gotten burned out on this race venue.  I've kind of plateaued in fitness and will need some serious training to get much better.  My race weapon (Superfly100) is showing a bit of age and I'm not eager to keep the expensive maintenance up or to replace it.  And I've gotten interested in some other kinds of riding.

This season I was supposed to do four races.  Starting in April, I skipped Cohutta since it was supposed to be raining during the race.  Sure enough, it rained.  Glad I skipped the expense and time.  Racing 100 miles in rain and mud is not for me. 

I then did the Dirty Kanza in late May.   More on that later.

Next up was Lumberjack 100.  This is a nice race course.  It reminds me of 6 Hours of Warrior Creek with a flowy trail that still has some rolling climbs.  Three loops of a 33 mile course. 

I did fine, but not terrific, finishing in 8:21.  This is my 100 mile PR, but it was the easiest course to do it on.  I was kind of hoping for sub 8-hour time, but I just didn't have the giddy up in the legs. 

Then I was supposed to do W101 this coming weekend.   Just didn't find the love for it and I wanted to take my cycling in a different direction (read below).   I was also thinking of Fools Gold in late September, but I almost certainly won't do that now. 

Dirty Kanza 200

I've raced the Dirty Kanza 200 in the last two years.  The first year was a learning experience.  Not enough fuel, probably not quite enough training/conditioning, probably just a bit too fast to start and too little confidence in the "tough middle section".   I raced in 16:01. 

This year I went back for a second try.  I felt a little fitter.  I took both the Fargo and the Warbird, not sure which I would ride.   DK had epic rains in the weeks leading up to the race including rain the day before.  So with muddy conditions expected I took the Fargo.  It is a very rough course so I think the Fargo (heavier but with mtn bike tires) is probably a better bike in general.

This year's race was VERY tough.  The course was super muddy with tons of slick deep mud puddles everywhere.  The race director had added more "track" and less gravel road, which didn't help with the poor conditions.  It is almost a mtn bike race.  The toughest part was a 3 mile section of clay-mud that created a hike-a-bike for an hour.  It took me nearly 3 hours longer than expected to complete the first leg (mile 75) because of the mud.  But I ate well, drank well, and felt super strong all through the race.  I went by tons of people in the second half.  My GPS died this year (not last year) so I had to slow at the end to wait for someone with a GPS.  I also stopped eating once it got dark which was a mistake as I ran out of gas just a bit in the end.

Overall the race gave me great confidence that I can ride hard for 200 miles under very difficult conditions and still not feel totally destroyed by the finish.   I can't wait to go back next year to earn my award for beating the sunset.  I would have easily made it this year under "normal" conditions. 

A New Direction

My riding and athletic life needed a new direction that wasn't so focused on the NUE format.  I made a list of the kinds of activities that I have most enjoyed recently, and mountain biking in general and specifically 100 mile mtn bike races weren't tops on that list.  Then I made a list of the things I still wanted to do -- a running/cycling bucket list -- and figured out that I am spending my time doing the wrong things.  I should be concentrating more on the things I want to do and not get stuck in the rut of competing in the NUE races.    So I have a bit of a cycling mid life crisis ... ok a mini-crisis or new direction.

My Quiver

I've made some changes to my bike quiver.  About two years ago, my wife made a reasonable suggestion that my new bike purchases be "bike neutral" and "budget neutral".  I had to sell a bike to get a bike and I had to do it in a way that didn't dent the family's discretionary spending budget. 

Two years ago, I sold my KLR650 dual sport motorcycle and bought a Salsa Fargo.  I was sad to see the motorcycle go, but I just wasn't riding it hardly any more.  And it was getting older and needed $ for upkeep.  And I just LOVE my Fargo.  It is perhaps the "best" bicycle I have ever owned.  By best, I mean the one that gives me the most overall enjoyment.  There is little this bike can't do. 

I sold my old Masi Cross bike and bought a Ti Warbird in return.  Ok, so this purchase wasn't exactly budget neutral, but my wife let me pick this one up.  It is one of the original brushed Ti models that was deeply discounted at Freeze Thaw after sitting in their showroom for a couple of years. 

I most recently sold three bikes: my old Cannondale cyclocross bike (that was on loan to my dad for 5 years), my carbon Masi Team Pro road bike (I just don't ride road much at all), and my Gary Fisher Superfly 100.  I was most sad to see the superfly go, but I just wasn't riding it much at all and I don't want to race mtn bikes any more.  And if I do, I'll ride the El Mariachi which has an old-school underdog vibe going. 

In exchange I just purchased a used Beargrease xx1.  I am expecting its arrival soon.  My wife has kind of taken over my Mukluk since it is way more ridable than her Pugsley.   And my daughter is riding that bike anyway.  Plus I really want to do some snow racing.  I love fatbiking and my gen 1 Mukluk -- a great bike -- is just behind the times in geometry, gearing, wheel options, etc. 

So my new quiver consists of:

• Fargo 2 (gen 2, steel)
• Ti Warbird
• Mukluk (gen 1, 1x9)
• El Mariachi (steel, 1x10)
• Beargrease xx1
• Karate Monkey SS (commuting duty)

 Too bad I don't have a sponsorship with Salsa!

Bucket List

Things I still want to do.  

I want to do more running again.  Not the marathon circuit I did for 10 years.  That was fun but that's not what I'm after.  I want to do more trail running.  I want to try some ultras.   I also want to be in better shape and not rely on cycling as exclusively.  It is easier for me to do intensity in running too, which is largely missing from my cycling training.  My kids are getting older (12 and 10) and just now becoming more serious about running.  Both kids look like they've got some talent.  I've been running with them during the summer XC training and my daughter has taken 2nd women overall in two medium sized races (she's 11).  She ran a 33:41 in the Granville Firecracker 5 miler on the 4th of July and 20:20 for a 5k at the Arts Fest race in State College.   

I want to do more gravel grinders.  For the past two years, I've done the Dirty Kanza 200 and have just loved this race.  Great spirit.  Great course.  Beautiful beyond belief.  The distance is a real challenge.  I want to try some others: Almanzo, Land Run, Black Hills Gold Rush (mother lode).  I want to do D2R2 and Rebecca's Private Idaho. 

I would like to try some snow races.  I have my eye on Birkenbeiner 47k in March.  My wife's friend is moving to MN and so I think I can convince her to fly there with me and she can visit her friend while I race.  Could I possibly do Arrowhead 135 some day?  Or maybe Jay P's backyard fatbike pursuit? 

I am thinking (still) of adventure races.  My distances are getting longer and I am getting more comfortable with longer distances.  Tour Divide is still the big carrot hanging out there.  The Allegheny Mountain Loop looks promising.  Arrowhead 135.  And just more touring on the Fargo and more bike packing.


I have also enjoyed riding with my family.  Dylan (my daughter) has really taken to cycling this last year.  We got her a mid-level hybrid bike for her birthday last year and she rides it like a banshee.  She also rides mountain bike like trails with Laura on the fatbikes.  Eli (my son) has ridden with me lots in previous years, but not so much this year.  I need to get him on the trail if it ever stops raining around here. 

GAP / C&O

One of the things I've been thinking about for 3 years is a trip on the Great Allegheny Passage and Chesapeake and Ohio tow path.   By cancelling my W101 trip, I've opened a window to give it a try.  It has also been raining here all summer (literally almost every single day) and I don't want my first bike packing trip to be in the rain.   But these next few days look perfect, if a bit warm.

My goal is to start in Pittsburgh and ride towards Washington DC.  It is 340 miles.  I am still not sure if I will try it all in one go or break it into two parts.  Probably decide as a I go and see how I feel at mile 150 at Cumberland.