Ride Report

Ride report: Halfway, OR

The big push into Baker City took a lot out of me.

I was staying at the Churchill School bike hostel, and rolled out late because I did laundry there. I stopped in town for breakfast and discovered how weird my appetite has gotten. I was beyond hungry. I was at a nice restaurant having food I liked. And I still had to force myself to finish it. I don’t understand.

I planned on making the day’s ride shorter, but between the late departure and my low speed, it wound up being really short. It’s known that your peak heart rate and power go down when you’re exhausted. Two days ago, I couldn’t get my HR over 120 bpm. In the ride into Halfway, I could barely get it over 100.

Much of the day’s riding was through Hell’s Canyon, and the name is apt. It was hot and humid, and no trees, no shade. Nowhere to stop and take a break until the town of Richland, about 40 miles in, and the only shade there was the awning in front of the grocery store.

When I got to Halfway, I had an early dinner and went to bed. I slept long and hard, and I’m hoping I’ve pushed a reset button.

I will admit that I am feeling discouraged about this undertaking. Part of the reason I wanted to do this was to find out how I would be changed by the experience at the end. But I also have to admit that I romanticized the suffering. I am at the point where the suffering has lost whatever romance it may have had, and I am asking myself whether what I will get out of this will be worth what I put in. I didn’t enjoy being on the bike yesterday–it was just a slog.

My goal for today is to see if I can at least enjoy being on the bike, and forget my mileage targets.

Ride report: Halfway, OR Read More »

Ride report: Baker City, OR

I am writing this post the day after the ride–technically, my ride ended after midnight, so arguably it is the same day.

I reached Mitchell–home of the Spoke’n Hostel–pretty early and had their spaghetti for breakfast, although the 30-mile climb out of Prineville meant I wasn’t too early. Mitchell is in a valley, so after that long climb, you give up all that altitude, and then climb it again to get out. By the time I left, the day has heated up.

Most of the rest of the day is a blur. The three big climbs after Mitchell were all late in the ride, well after the halfway point. By the time I finished the second of them, it was chilly enough that I needed my jacket for the descent. After the third, it was cold enough that I needed to add more warm clothes, and my sweat-soaked jersey was chilling me, so I needed to take that off. Finding a place I could even lean my bike took a while, and then I was working in complete darkness. I was exhausted enough that I knew to be concerned about dumb mistakes, and tried to be very methodical. Even so, I rode off without my bone-conduction headset on, but it was hooked around my handlebars, so no loss there.

One minute after I passed the Baker City City limit sign, the sky opened up. I was only in the rain for about 10 minutes but got soaked.

I had set the goal of reaching Baker City because there’s a bike hostel there. I knew it would be a big push.

It was too long. 195 miles with 5 major climbs. My appetite has been hit-or-miss, and my last solid food of the day wasn’t sufficient.

Ride report: Baker City, OR Read More »

Ride report: Prineville, OR

Slept well and woke up at 5:30. Got rolling about 45 minutes later. Not great efficiency. Rode to Lewisburg and stopped at a greasy spoon for breakfast.

At some point while riding along the McKenzie River, I pulled over to strip off my warm clothes, and was passed by another racer, Richard. We rode together for a bit and stopped at a convenience store shortly before the turnoff for McKenzie Pass, the day’s main event. As we pulled in, another racer was pulling out and yelled his recommendation for the chicken tenders.

I rolled out a little before Richard and reached the turnoff. A couple of guys from Portland were getting their bikes ready; we chatted for a bit about whether the road was really closed due to a recent rockslide that needed to be cleaned up. We all agreed it was worth chancing it. I rode in ahead, knowing they’d pass me quickly.

The pass is at an altitude of about 5200 feet; the base is at about 1000 feet. As you ascend, you pass altitude markers every 1000 feet. At about 3500 feet, I had to take a break–I was whipped, my back hurts, and I ran across a rail I could use as a bench and prop for my bike. Before reaching 4000 feet, I came upon the Portland guys. I assumed they had already reached the top and were coming down. Nope. They were taking their time, I guess. There were a lot of cyclists on the climb–it’s a well known destination, especially right now when it is closed to motor traffic. There are gates at the east and west sides partway up that cyclists and peds can bypass.

I ran across a couple more racers, Mike and another guy whose name I didn’t catch. Mike and I rode together for a bit; I learned he’d read my blog entries about the 2021 race.

The top of the mountain is like Mount Doom–no life, just broken lava rock everywhere.

On the way down, I chatted with a rider going the other way, and later, at the eastern gate, there was another rider coming the other way. We chatted for a bit too. Something seemed familiar about him, and after he asked my name, I told him and said “and you’re Evan Deutsch, aren’t you?” He was. He’s won the TABR and has some very high placements when he didn’t. Nice guy, very down-to-earth.

I made it to the next town of Sisters, a very cute town blessed with two bike shops, which is pretty rare. Only one was open, so I went there. Blazin Saddles. My shifting has been off, and I hadn’t been able to fix it myself, so I suspected the derailleur hanger was out of alignment. It was. They dropped everything and got me fixed right up. Another racer was in there buying spares.

As long as I was making a stop in Sisters, I decided to eat. I found a food truck serving Mexican food and ordered a taco plate. Weirdly enough, I had to force myself to eat it–i just don’t have much of an appetite. This is a problem. There’s only so far I can go on stored fat.

My original goal for today has been Mitchell OR. What I realized was that I’d be arriving after nightfall, and the descent into town is scary enough in the daylight. I wound up stopping 40 miles short, in Prineville.

Ride report: Prineville, OR Read More »

Ride report: Springfield, OR

A big day on the bike. We had a strong tailwind almost all day, and it’s clear many of the racers are making hay while the sun shines. The guys at the pointy end are all around 300 miles for the day, and probably not stopping.

A lot of climbing too, including a couple of very long, steep grades. I saw one racers going up the first of these on foot. Somehow, much later, I saw he had beat me to a road–but was on the wrong side of it. There was another racers I kept swapping positions with. I rode faster than him, but stopped more often.

My goal has been to average 180 miles/day, and it’s nice to start off with some extra miles in the bank.

I stopped in Tillamook for an early lunch at the Safeway, where I encountered my first dot-watcher, had a few snacks along the way, and stopped in Corvallis for dinner at a semi-fancy pasta place called Pastini. It was nice pretending to be civilized. I pushed on another 40 or so miles to Coburg, and am actually a little off course at a Motel 6 in Eugene. The place reeks of despair.

I’m going to sleep until I’m done sleeping.

Ride report: Springfield, OR Read More »

Pace Bend Ultra 2022

On February 5–6, I competed in the Pace Bend Ultra. There were a number of divisions: 6-hour, 12-hour, 24-hour, solo and teams, men, women, and mixed (for teams). The idea is you ride around a loop as many times as you can until you reach your time limit. I competed in the 24-hour solo division. This was my first attempt at anything like this.

This would have been difficult under ideal conditions, and the conditions were not ideal. The overnight low was forecast to be 25°F; I had the temperature displayed on my bike-computer app, and when it was showing 31°F, I heard that the actual temperature measured on the course was 27°F. That’s really cold. I’ve commuted at roughly that temperature, but my bike commute takes 22 minutes each way. I was very anxious about the cold in the days before the race, and I wasn’t sure if my preparations would be adequate.

The course is a 6.2-mile loop inside Pace Bend Park, about an hour’s drive outside of Austin. Apparently the course used to be notorious for it’s “meteor impact” pavement, but a couple of years ago it was resurfaced, and is currently pretty nice.

The race started at noon on Saturday, with all the 12-hour and 24-hour riders departing together. This being a time trial, drafting is not allowed, but because of the relatively crowded mass start, we had a pass for the first lap.

My first two laps I was running hot—the trick with distance riding is to keep your level of exertion in a limited range—not too high, so you don’t burn all your matches prematurely. I was a little worried about that, but by the third lap, I was able to get it under control. I later heard from another racer who felt the same.

I had looked at the course elevation profile beforehand, and was not too concerned about the hills: 312 feet of climbing per lap, or about 50 feet per mile. No big deal. What I didn’t realize until I was a few laps into it is that while none of the hills are particularly difficult, you’re never not on a hill. You never have a chance to hunker down and motor. I was constantly finding I was in the wrong gear.

My fueling strategy worked pretty well. I spent a fair amount of time researching that, and while I learned a lot, I ultimately went with my gut (sorry). I made up a batch of big oatmeal-raisin cookies, and a bunch of small chicken-salad tacos. Every 2nd and 4th lap, I would eat a cookie, and every 6th lap I would eat a taco. I would need to pull into my pit station to eat the taco, which was fine—on the advice of a more experienced ultra rider, I planned on taking a pit stop every six laps anyhow; I’d refill the cookies I was carrying when I did that. Eating the cookies while riding was a little more difficult to manage than I anticipated, but I’m sure I could solve that problem. My hunger went up and down—there were points when I was really hungry, and then later, not too hungry. I was able to stick to this eating schedule pretty closely for all my time on the bike, but once it got dark, I decided it would be better to stop to eat my cookies than to eat them on the fly. I thought about using liquid fuel, and ultimately decided against. During training, I experimented with some liquid options, and they didn’t sit well in my stomach. I also tend to under-hydrate, so even on a hot ride, I wouldn’t get a lot of calories that way. According to the Training Peaks estimate (I don’t have a power meter on my bike), I burned 10,500 calories, which sounds about right. About half of that probably came from stored fat (which would be less than 2 lb).

At 6 hours, I felt like there was a turning point in the event. It was getting dark and cold, everyone had burned off the last shred of nervous energy, and we were all settling into the pace that we’d maintain for the rest of the race. It was at about this point that I started adding layers for warmth. I started out wearing a high-tech base layer, a jacket, cold-weather shorts, leg warmers, cool-weather gloves, insulating wool socks, and lightweight booties. At around this point, I added a beanie under my helmet and a wool base layer. Later I would add a fleece neck buff, my rain jacket, and a pair of running tights; I also swapped my gloves for warmer ones.

At 11 hours, I discovered the warming tent. It was not especially warm—I could see my breath in there—but it was warmer. It wasn’t provided by the event organizers, but by a team: there were some people helping their teammates providing de-facto neutral support, and they gave me soup and hot chocolate in addition to a warm place to sit and socialize with other racers taking breaks.

At 12 hours, I had all my extra layers on and still couldn’t get warm—I was shivering uncontrollably in my core. One of the guys in the warming tent who was there in a support capacity lent me his jacket (which was big enough to fit over the 4 layers I was already wearing) and it made a huge difference.

At 13 hours, I was riding a little erratically on the road, and I was really worried about my ability to ride through the coldest part of the night. When I stopped in the warming tent, I realized I could take a nap and just sleep through that part, and I gave myself permission to do that. My attitude and riding improved immediately.

At 15 hours, I decided to take that nap in the warming tent, where there was a cot. I had a sleeping bag with me, but I never really got comfortable enough to sleep. It was miserable. At some point I moved from the cot to a reclining folding chair, and while I didn’t sleep there either, I found it more restful.

At 20 hours, just before 8 AM, I ended my pretend-nap, at which point the sun was out and the temperature had risen to the freezing point. I was not very refreshed, but I was riding a lot better than when I had stopped for my so-called nap.

At 21 hours, the 6-hour division started. While there were obviously some hardcore time-trialists in the 12- and 24-hour divisions, the 6-hour division had a higher percentage—I think that was the only division where people were using disk wheels. They would rocket past me on their TT bikes like I was standing still. There was also one hapless guy in the 6-hour division who must have seen an ad for the event and thought “that sounds like fun.” He was riding a hybrid, wearing basketball shorts and knee socks. It was clear he was not an experienced rider. I think he rode two or three laps and packed it in. I can only imagine how he felt lining up at the start with guys who looked like they were riding spaceships.

Gwen also showed up around this time with food. She crammed a homemade biscuit with gravy in my mouth. I was glad to see her.

At 23 hours and 15 minutes, I packed it in. At that point, my lap time was about 30 minutes (partial laps are not counted), so I could have squeezed in one more lap, but I was starting to ride erratically, and decided it wasn’t worth it.

At the end of the race, I learned that I was one of only two competitors who didn’t have a car to warm up in. I think that made a difference. There’s no telling how I would have fared if I had been able to warm up every few laps, or if I had been better insulated, but if I had ridden through that five-hour pretend nap at my last-lap pace, my distance would have been right around 300 miles, which I had predicted to be my “realistic-optimistic” distance.

I knew, but kind of forgot, that my body cannot regulate its temperature when I’m exhausted: if it’s the slightest bit cold, it’s hard for me to warm up. I definitely experienced that in the race. Part of the problem is that as I get worn out, I can’t push myself as hard and can’t raise my heart rate, so I’m generating less heat, but there’s something else at work too. I’ll need to be careful to be better insulated if I do anything like this again.

Final results: 241.8 miles, 39 laps. 2nd place in the men’s solo 24-hour upright-bike division (out of five), first in my age group. My actual time in motion was 15:34.

Pace Bend Ultra 2022 Read More »

Epoch-Caldwell 300K

After scratching in TABR 2021, I decided I needed more experience with distance riding before I attempted it again, so I joined the local randonneuring group. Randonneuring has two kinds of ride—brevets, which are organized date-and-day events, and permanentes (or perms), which you can ride whenever you want. There are certain standardized distances in either case, and yesterday I rode a 300-km perm. I covered about the same distance on Day 1 of TABR 2021, although that was cold, rainy, and windy; yesterday started out cool and warmed up to be pretty hot, with a slight tailwind on the outbound leg and a stronger headwind (it certainly felt stronger) on the return. In any case, this was only the second time I’ve ridden this distance.

I started out at 6:00 AM in darkness and rode for about an hour before there was any sunlight. After that, the morning was very misty, and whenever I would ride through a low-lying spot, visibility was probably only 50′. The mist burned off by 8:30 or so. Riding through that was surreal. I was mostly on roads I know well up to that point, but not being able to see around me made them unfamiliar territory.

I pushed on past the first control in Taylor, about 40 miles in, without stopping. After that point, the route took me on unfamiliar roads to get to a familiar place—Apache Pass—and then to Rockdale, where I did stop for a snack at the second control. Pushed on from there through the community of Black Jack, which I had never heard of, to Caldwell, where I discovered I had crossed from the burnt orange zone of football allegiance to the maroon one. Stopped at a Subway for solid food, topped off my hydration pack, had a Snickers bar for good measure, and headed back.

I had been making pretty good time to this point for relatively little effort, but knew I’d be facing a headwind on the way back. I can see now that my average heart rate for the first half was 120 bpm, 125 bpm for the second half. In hindsight, I think I could have pushed the pace on the outbound leg a little more, but I was mostly concerned about having enough in the tank to make it home.

When I made it back to Apache Pass, at mile 132, I was dealing with hotfoot and stopped to give my feet a break. That helped a bit, but not enough, and not for long enough. I stopped again in Taylor to fill up on water, even though I probably had enough to make it the rest of the way back. I wanted to give my feet another break, and I wasn’t sure how long the next 40 miles would take, since my speed was dropping steadily.

Sometimes I can ride through hotfoot and get comfortable again. That didn’t happen. I just toughed it out. Apart from that, and being generally sore and tired in all the ways you’d expect, I felt pretty good when I finished. My left knee felt a little tweaked over the last 30 miles or so, but was not concerning. I didn’t feel any of the Achilles’ tendon trouble that I did in the TABR. I ate half a family-sized King Ranch Casserole from Central Market for dinner, and went to Bobo’s for a beer.

This morning when I woke up, I did not feel pretty good. I had a headache and nausea, in addition to fatigue. I can get by for a long time on a deficit of water, electrolytes, and calories—I rode the recent 200K brevet on four Clif bars, one Snickers bar, a bottle of Gatorade, and the water and electrolytes I was carrying from the start—and I think I set a personal best for 200K. But clearly my limit for riding on deficits is somewhere short of the 300K mark, and I’m pretty sure it was the insufficient water and electrolytes that did it. I took in a couple glasses of electrolytes (I use Vitalyte, fwiw) and felt a lot better.

This was a lucky shot. The light was changing very quickly, and as soon as I stopped moving, my glasses fogged over.
You don’t usually see a lot of longhorns. Unlike most cattle, these guys were curious about me and were approaching as I shot this.

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Mueller-Lexington-Mueller 200K

I’ve been vaguely interested in randonneuring for a long time—after I completed my first Austin-Houston ride, I met a guy who was into it, who suggested I ought to check it out. More recently, I started lurking on the local randonneuring group’s mailing list. After my failed attempt at the TABR, I decided I needed more experience at long distances, so I finally joined RUSA. The first ride organized by the local group after that happened to be on the 100th anniversary of the first brevet organized by the sport’s governing body, Audax Club Parisien. That seemed like an auspicious beginning.

Most (all?) of the local brevets start and finish at a convenience store that’s barely a mile from my home, which is convenient for me. Yesterday’s ride had 16 people sign up, which I understand to be a good showing.

I had laid out my stuff the night before, aired up my tires, etc, so I’d have a minimum of things to do in the morning. Got up at 5:00, ate breakfast, got suited and booted, and was out the door by 5:20.

We were all at the start with time to spare. Jeff, the ride organizer, gave some preliminary instructions. It seemed as if everyone else knew each other—I was clearly the only first-timer, and there were quite a few PBP veterans. Jeff pointed out a couple of guys to me and told me they’re fast—that he knows I’m fast, but I shouldn’t feel like I need to hang with them. I told him I was planning on riding my own ride.

We were rolling on time 6:00 AM. We agreed to ride together for the first 20 or so miles, at which point we’d stop at a picturesquely decrepit old store for a group photo, and then ride at our own pace.

This and the neutralized start at TABR are the only times I’ve ridden in a group in many years; this was the first time I’ve ridden in the dark in a bunch perhaps ever. Our route out of town was mostly new to me—occasionally we were on streets that I’d ridden before, but for the most part we weren’t. The dark, the new streets, and the riding in a pack all made the first hour or so a new experience.

After the photo op in Cele, we got back onto the road in small clots of a few riders each. I was in the first group back on the road, and after just a mile or two, I wanted to get moving. Partly this was to warm up. Partly this was to make good time before the day got hot. Partly because I’m out of the habit of riding in a group and was ready to ride on my own. And partly this was because, although brevets are not races, I do know the riders pay attention to times, and as the new guy, I wanted to lay down a marker. So I shot off the front.

At this point, I was mostly on roads that I’ve ridden before. I hunkered down on my aerobars and jammed. Despite having had a cold for the past few days, I felt good.

At mile 40, one of the two guys Jeff had pointed out to me as being fast rolled past me like I was going backwards. We said “hey” to each other and he was gone. I forgot his name. Very tall, very thin, weird setup with bars set super-high using what I think is a Bike Friday stem. In any case, I didn’t see him again.

Made it to Taylor and kept going. The route after that was mostly roads that are new to me. I had my bone-conduction headset on, reading me directions and playing DJ sets that I’ve downloaded to my phone.

The country between Taylor and Lexington is pretty flat, agricultural, not a lot of trees, and a lot of the fields had been harvested recently, so were bare dirt. I was mostly just in the zone, focused on my riding.

Made it to Lexington, where the ride turns around, at about 9:30. I think there’s a restaurant in Lexington where I could have gotten solid food, but I didn’t look for one and the only one I knew of—Subway—was closed at that hour. Stopped for a big Snickers bar and a bottle of Gatorade (I’d eaten a couple of Clif bars up to that point). As I was rolling out of the parking lot, another one of the brevet riders—on a heavy-looking Soma with flared gravel bars—rolled in. We said “hey” and I kept on going.

There’s a spot just outside Lexington where the road is under construction and narrowed down to one lane; instead of flaggers, there are stoplights controlling traffic. When I rolled through this on the return leg, I saw most of the other riders were waiting to get through on the other side. And a bit further on down from them, I saw the one guy participating on a recumbent trike.

Made it back to Taylor, thought about stopping for tacos, didn’t. Kept going. Had an energy bar when I got just past town, in the shadow of a privately operated prison.

When I got back to that old store in Cele, I saw there was a couple of cyclists there hanging out. Initially I thought they might be part of our group, and was puzzled that they would have gotten past me. It turns out they weren’t, and we had a nice chat. It seems that the Cele store is only open weekends, and has good barbecue. Which was tempting, but I still had 20 miles to go and didn’t indulge. My legs had been threatening to cramp up a little before this, and stopping for a bit seemed to hit the reset switch on that, but I didn’t want to linger for too long.

Most of the remainder of the ride was on the new-to-me roads we had rolled out on, but now I could see them and place them in context. They avoided some unpleasant roads that I’ve ridden on many times just out of habit—I’ll need to add them to my repertoire. I made it back to the starting point without incident, and then back home.

Early in the ride, I thought that I might be able to hold my average moving speed at 18 mph for the ride. I have the RwGPS app report my stats every 15 minutes, and I had a few 15-minute periods where I was rolling at 19.9 mph, which is great, and was keeping my average at 18 mph for pretty much the first half, but it slipped slightly on the return, and over the last 10 miles, it slipped considerably. My rolling average wound up being 17.7 mph—I’m still quite content with that, and this was by far the fastest 200K that I have the receipts for. I didn’t eat enough (4 Clif bars, 1 Snickers bar) and maybe didn’t hydrate enough during the ride. Writing this the next day, after a big post-ride snack, a big dinner, and solid night’s sleep, I’m still a bit tired.

The weather wound up being perfect. A little on the cool side to start. The day did warm up, but wasn’t brutally hot. The wind was that rarest of things, still for the outbound leg and a slight tailwind on the return.

Mueller-Lexington-Mueller 200K Read More »

Ride report: John Day, OR

I had hoped to make it to Prairie City today, but the hotel there was full, so I stopped a little early.

Stopped in Prineville to visit the bike shop, in order to replace a missing bar plug. Seems like a minor problem, but their absence has caused some vicious injuries.

Today has its ups and downs, literally. There were two passes, closely spaced, flanking the town of Mitchell. The first climb was long and gradual. The descent was seven miles long and a screamer —it was nerve-racking, mostly due to the buffeting winds. At one point, the wake from a semi going the other way almost blew me off the road. I was slightly light-headed by the times I reached the bottom.

Mitchell is home to the Spoke’n Hostel, one of the most popular stops on the Trans Am. The folks there pretty much put themselves at the rider’s disposal. The feed me, we chatted, it was really nice. Glad I could be a part of that tradition. I left there feeling much more like a human. I was heartened to see that the two race leaders stopped in to sign the guest book.

The climb out of Mitchell was long, steady, and straight. It led to a descent that must have run at least 20 miles. Like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

These two passes seem like the dividing line between pine forests and high desert. The plant life and geology seem different on the two sides.

My ass is still a lava field, and my Achilles’ tendons are more swollen. If anything knocks me out prematurely, it’ll probably be that. My body’s ability to regulate its temperature seems to be all messed up. But today was the first day where I could enjoy the ride some.

Ride report: John Day, OR Read More »

Ride report: Corvallis, OR

My goal in the TABR is to average 210 miles per day. Today I managed 185, considerably short of this goal. But I did ride the longest distance I’ve ever ridden, under very poor conditions, in mountainous terrain (and let me just say: mountains are different than hills). So I feel ok about today’s performance.

I’m going to sleep until I’m done sleeping and then see if I can do it again.

Ride report: Corvallis, OR Read More »

Day 35: Palatka to St. Augustine

Started: Oct 26, 2010 7:30:26
Ride Time: 3:09:35
Stopped Time: 36:48
Distance: 46.52 miles
Average: 14.72 miles/h
Fastest Speed: 42.08 miles/h
Climb: 868 feet
Calories: 1803

I made it.

Once I reached Austin, there wasn’t much doubt in my mind that I could make it—the hard parts were all behind me. Still, there’s a difference between being sure that you can do a thing and actually doing it.

Today’s riding was short and uneventful, mostly on a country road that hugged the St. John River. Jenny Nazak had agreed to meet me in St. Augustine, and in fact she parked on one of the country roads I came in on, so we actually met about 5 miles before I reached the city. We then made our way down to the beach via our separate conveyances for the ocean-dip ritual, and then had some lunch. It was really good to have an old friend on hand for that moment.

The fact that I’m done hasn’t fully sunk in yet. What it all means isn’t entirely clear to me yet. I’m sure I’ll have more to say on the subject soon.

One thing I do know that I want to say now is this: as much as an endeavor like this seems to be in individual effort, I received a lot of help and support in it, for which I am very grateful. My Warm Showers hosts, and the people I met on the road who spontaneously offered me a place to stay. Manako at my starting point. Carlos in Phoenix. Jenny here at my end point. And most of all Gwen, who supported me materially and emotionally the whole way, when my absence made her own life that much more difficult.

I’m glad I did it, and I’m glad I’m done with it.

Day 35: Palatka to St. Augustine Read More »

Day 34: Gainesville to Palatka

Started: Oct 25, 2010 7:54:46
Ride Time: 4:53:49
Stopped Time: 58:32
Distance: 69.09 miles
Average: 14.11 miles/h
Fastest Speed: 89.46 miles/h
Climb: 1505 feet
Calories: 2879

The distance above is understated by 2 or so miles because I paused tracking and forgot to turn it back on for no good reason.

Today was an easy day, and a day for reflection. I managed to sleep later than usual this morning, which is good—many mornings, I’ve found myself awake at a ridiculously early hour and unable to get back to sleep. Today I didn’t wake until after 7:00. Had breakfast with my Warm Showers host Ann and got going. The riding through the city of Gainesville wasn’t bad, and at the edge of town, the route put me on a bike path that runs with minimal interruptions for 16 miles to the neighboring town of Hawthorne. Very pretty riding with lots of tree cover. I saw very few other cyclists on the path, and none at all after mile 10 or so.

As I’ve mentioned before, my route is broken into detailed maps that each cover 30-40 miles. My map holder can show three of these maps at once. So every 80 miles or so, I refold them to show what’s coming next. Today on that bike path, I refolded my maps for the last time. I had to let that sink in for a minute when I thought about it.

The rest of the riding was unexciting. I wound up missing a turn, which added 3-4 miles to my distance today. Made it into the town of Palatka on the early side, so after I got cleaned up, I went wandering around. The entire downtown is shut on Mondays though, so not much to see.

I’m not done yet, but tomorrow already feels sort of like a victory lap. Victory over what, I can’t say. In fact, the experience and the near-completion of it bring up feelings that I can’t quite get a handle on myself, much less describe. It’s good to have done it, and it will be good to be done with it and get back to my everyday life.

Day 34: Gainesville to Palatka Read More »

Day 33: Madison to Gainesville

Started: Oct 24, 2010 7:50:03
Ride Time: 6:39:42
Stopped Time: 2:00:46
Distance: 92.28 miles
Average: 13.85 miles/h
Fastest Speed: 140.53 miles/h
Climb: 14192 feet
Calories: 4112

I started my ride today a few miles off the ACA route, and when I looked at a map of the area realized that i could easily take a completely different route and get where I was going a little more directly. My original goal for today had been the town of High Springs, but by taking some of the bends out of the roads, I could easily make it to Gainesville, where I’d be able to find a Warm Showers host. So that’s what I did.

I started off at first light, and the morning was extremely foggy—visibility of maybe a quarter mile. I turned on my taillight. Not ideal riding conditions, but it was beautiful with the sun coming through the trees, filtered through the mist, and the temperature was just cool enough to justify my long-sleeved jersey without being cold enough to make me uncomfortable.

I rode through a lot of farm country before getting to High Springs, a cute touristy town, where I had lunch. At this point I was only about 20 miles from my host’s place, and would probably beat her home if I kept up the pace I had been going, so for the rest of the way I took it easy. I hadn’t been riding particularly hard up to that point—it’s more like the riding had mostly been very easy, so I could click off miles quickly.

I have to give Florida credit: the state may have ruined the 2000 presidential election, but almost every mile of road I have ridden so far here has been excellent. They generally have shoulders of adequate width, with smooth, clean pavement. I doubt Florida drivers are that much more fastidious than other drivers (and the amount of litter I see in the grass would corroborate this), so I must assume there are cleanup crews out there constantly. Road kill is also conspicuous by its relative absence, which is a welcome change from East Texas, where the frequency, variety, and pungency of dead animals made that smell a constant companion. This is one of the negative aspects of riding such a low-slung trike. I’m right there at eye and nose level.

Two days until I reach the Atlantic. Three days until I’m home. I am ready.

Day 33: Madison to Gainesville Read More »

Day 32: Tallahassee to Madison

Started: Oct 23, 2010 10:43:02
Ride Time: 4:52:34
Stopped Time: 1:41:37
Distance: 69.43 miles
Average: 14.24 miles/h
Fastest Speed: 64.10 miles/h
Climb: 20438 feet
Calories: 2910

An easy and really pleasant day of riding today. My Warm Showers host Kevin had promised me one of my best days of riding, and he was good for his word.

He and his wife Susan are long-time cyclotourists and know the local roads of course. So they recommended a route that would take me to the nearby town of Monticello, where I could reconnect with the official ACA route. This would take me down canopy roads, heavily shaded by trees.

I didn’t set out until fairly late in the morning, after Susan had fed me an almost comically large bowl of oatmeal—on par with the bowl of pasta she fed me last night. Both of which I consumed gratefully, eagerly, and completely. I also got Susan, Kevin, and their son to take a spin on my trike. Kevin was a little reluctant, and wasn’t entirely sold on the experience. I really enjoyed staying with them and hearing about their own cycling experiences, and about Susan’s work on particle physics.

Once I finally did get rolling, I took it easy. I didn’t have a lot of miles to cover (by my standards) and was pretty sure my destination town of Madison was nothing I was in a hurry to arrive at (I was right). Despite that, I made good time. Arrived at the town of Monticello, which seems like a really nice place. It has something resembling the courthouse squares we have in Texas and seems pretty lively. I stopped in a bakery that apparently was the starting point for a local farms tour that was going on, so it was extremely busy. Had a sandwich and a sticky bun.

Got going on US90—that road again—toward my destination of Madison. A few miles along I came across four westbound Southern Tier riders, all college guys who have taken the semester off. They actually began their ride in Virginia, rode down to Florida, and just got on the Southern Tier route a few days ago. They were all riding pretty nice racing bikes that have been kind of jury-rigged to carry racks and panniers. I admit I was looking at their rigs with a bit of concern: those skinny tires don’t provide much shock absorption, and those low spoke-count wheels seem to be asking for trouble. And I didn’t even get a good look at their gearing, but I have to wonder how they’ll manage the five miles of 7% grade they’ll encounter out of Three Way AZ. Then again, they’ve made it this far already and they’re full of youthful vigor. I did not voice my concerns. We had a good chat and I told them a little about what they had ahead. They congratulated me on almost finishing, which in hindsight gives me kind of a funny feeling.

While we were chatting, another guy rode up on a hybrid bike. He said he’s planning on doing the Southern Tier next year and is getting in shape for it. I also think I overheard him saying he’s been riding 100 miles at a stretch and averaging 18 mph. I wanted to tell him to get a better bike, but I held my tongue.

The rest of my ride in to Madison was uneventful, as is Madison itself. Tomorrow will be a ~90 miler to High Springs.

Day 32: Tallahassee to Madison Read More »

Day 31: Bonifay to Tallahassee

Started: Oct 22, 2010 7:00:05
Ride Time: 7:15:19
Stopped Time: 2:07:49
Distance: 101.14 miles
Average: 13.94 miles/h
Fastest Speed: 35.09 miles/h
Climb: 2371 feet
Calories: 4339

Today was much like yesterday in terms of riding. Some time on US90, some on back roads to relieve the monotony. Riding conditions were very similar, though today felt a bit hillier—certainly hillier than I was expecting. I felt better on my ride today than I did yesterday, so that’s good. I have to admit that at this point, I’m mostly riding to get to the end, not to be in the moment.

Ending the day in Tallahassee has a couple of good points: one is that I found a bike shop where I could replace the rear-view mirror that mysteriously fell off my trike while I was riding yesterday. Recumbents really need them in a way that conventional bikes don’t because it’s almost impossible to do a head-check on a recumbent. The other is that I wound up with another set of Warm Showers hosts, Kevin and Susan, who are enthusiastic bike tourists, and have the first triple I’ve ever seen in person.

Tomorrow will be a short day, so I may bum around Tallahassee for a while before I get rolling. After that, two full-length days, and then a short ride to bring me in to St Augustine.

Day 31: Bonifay to Tallahassee Read More »

Day 30: Pensacola to Bonifay

Started: Oct 21, 2010 7:23:15
Ride Time: 8:00:49
Stopped Time: 1:51:32
Distance: 115.22 miles
Average: 14.38 miles/h
Fastest Speed: 32.45 miles/h
Climb: 2811 feet
Calories: 5496

Hello, my name is Adam, and I think I may be turning into a distance addict.

My plan when I started today was to finish in DeFuniak Springs, which would have been an 85-mile ride. A perfectly respectable distance. When I arrived, it wasn’t even 3:00 PM yet, and I felt like that was just too damned early to quit for the day. Plus the fact that for the first 70 or so miles of my ride, I just couldn’t get into a good groove. My legs felt heavy. This might be exhaustion, it might be that rotten fried-oyster po’boy from yesterday having an effect, I don’t know. Anyhow, when I got to DeFuniak, I took a break, changed maps (because it is the transition between Sections 6 and 7), and considered my options. The small,evocatively named town of Ponce De Leon was only 11 miles away—less than an hour—and Bonifay only about two hours. So I pressed on.

In fairness, DeFuniak looks like it might have been worth stopping at. The town is built around a small lake, with a ring road circumscribing it and some park land, ringed in turn by residences and some city buildings. Idyllic.

The day’s riding to that point wasn’t much to remark on. I could have stayed on US90 all the way from Pensacola; the ACA maps zigzag around on a bike trail and some country roads for a while, mostly to break the monotony, I suppose. US90 is actually quite good for riding, with a reasonably wide, smooth, and clean shoulder. But it’s a long straight line of nothing much. It also runs parallel to I-10 (my guess is that I-10 along here was laid along US90 intentionally), so the string of towns along the route still have interstate-exit traffic. I could often just see I-10 traffic through a row of pines.

At this point I have just under 400 miles to go. If everything goes according to plan (knock wood), I’ll be dipping my wheel in the Atlantic on Tuesday morning and be home the next day. I’ve been working out some of the tour-end logistics, and my old friend from high school, Forrest, will be coming up from his home in Miami to meet me at the end. Looking forward to it.

Only chased by one dog so far in Florida—in that respect it’s not so deep-south. But in another, it is: I’ve seen three instances of the stars and bars here so far, which is two more than I saw in either Alabama or Mississippi, and as many as I saw in Louisiana during the four-odd days I spent there.

Day 30: Pensacola to Bonifay Read More »

Day 29: Bayou La Batre AL to Pensacola FL

Started: Oct 20, 2010 7:18:53
Ride Time: 5:12:50
Stopped Time: 2:55:29
Distance: 82.53 miles
Average: 15.83 miles/h
Fastest Speed: 75.99 miles/h
Climb: 3969 feet
Calories: 3973

A fast day. The mileage above is a little low because I paused recording for a couple miles before remembering to turn it back on.

I got rolling a few minutes later than intended, but I wasn’t worried about racing the sunset today, and the fact that the day was a little warmer when I got going didn’t hurt.

Made very quick progress as far as the Dauphin Island ferry, and then had a pretty long wait (Dauphin Island is “the birdiest small town in America”). The only vehicle ahead of me was a duallie covered in an Air Force graphics wrap. The two young airmen driving it were the support team for a memorial march by a few other airmen from Texas to Florida in memory of fallen comrades.

The ferry ride across Mobile Bay was about 30 minutes, and went past numerous oil rigs.

Once across, Fort Morgan and Gulf Shores were pretty much as I remembered. A lot of vacation homes up on stilts, painted in pastel colors, and a lot of condo towers, all lining the beach. More than a decade ago, I spent a couple of long weekends in one of those condos, owned by the parents of a friend. I’d had a tailwind as far as the ferry; now I was bucking a bit of a headwind but still making good time. But I was also feeling really hungry. I passed by a few fast-food chains that I wasn’t interested in, and came upon a clearly local seafood place.

Back in college, I took a trip to New Orleans and had a fried-oyster po’boy. It was one of the best things I’d ever eaten. This place had fried-oyster po’boys on the menu, and against my better judgment (deep-fried food just doesn’t make good fuel when I’m riding), I ordered it. It was awful. Complete waste. And now I’ve used up my cadmium and mercury allotment for the next decade. But getting some food in me—even bad food—re-energized me. I pushed on and made the Florida border, and then the edge of Pensacola in very good time. At one point I noticed that the ACA map seemed to be taking an unnecessary detour; i decided to try the obvious direct route. I quickly found out the reason for the detour: the direct route was a busy two-lane road with no shoulder. I turned around and got on the route like a good boy, chastened.

I had booked a hotel room for tonight through Priceline; unfortunately I didn’t research the location, and I’m in an anonymous interchange-land filled with chain businesses. Could be anywhere. The best I can say is that I’m well-positioned to continue with the route tomorrow, which will take me to DeFuniak Springs and the beginning of Section 7. Home stretch.

Day 29: Bayou La Batre AL to Pensacola FL Read More »

Day 28: Poplarville MS to Bayou La Batre AL