Wind and Hills in Wisconsin: Why I love the GLR 300k

There are 300k rides and there are 300k rides.  Though they are not my favorite distance, they are the first step towards a 400k (which is my favorite distance).  There is seldom the threat of late nights and sometimes they can even be completely in the daylight.  Of course, that depends on the ride…

The Great Lakes Randonneurs 300k is a very tough ride, particularly in a PBP year.  With the acceleration of the scheduling, it’s in mid-April at a time when snow can fall.  It is also a ride with some very challenging climbing at a time of year when the wind can be a monster.

Last year, this brevet was the end of a downward slide that ended in surgery and the following Monday, I’d given up and finally admitted that I was hurting myself by riding.  I finished dragging behind SpinBob unable to pedal faster than about 8 mph in the flats with no wind.  No energy left.  17 and a half long hours: unable to enlist any of my muscles, nauseated and weak.  It will always be a reminder of the point at which you have to admit that it’s time to back off.

This year was different.

I drove down on Friday night.  I had 2 nights booked at the Delavan Super 8, home of all GLR brevets.  It’s a great place to have brevets start at. 

I think I have been saying hello to the same managers for about 5 years now.   As has been my custom since last year, I brought my own food.  In this case, a new rice cake recipe with swiss cheese, coconut, sesame seeds and prosciutto along with some blueberry rice cakes and my very last Lisa Bar (so named because I don’t actually have a name for it, I just know that Lisa makes them).  I also hauled in a bunch of guacamole and chips for the end of the ride because I just can’t seem to eat enough avocados these days.

The weather forecast was for a lovely day temperature-wise with a somewhat unpleasant wind forecast.  A low was approaching from the west that was setting up a massive east wind off Lake Michigan.  Even at 7:00AM, it was already windy. 

Jim Kreps - Fearless RBA

The route heads pretty much due west for about 45 miles, then northwest for another 45 miles before turning and slowly dropping southeast back to Delavan.  Set up a lovely tailwind for the first half of the ride, not so much the second.

Over 50 people turned out between the 200k and 300k options.  Only 6 were on the 300k, including me, but SpinBob was amongst them and I thought we could catch up.  I saw his bike and was looking for him, but among 50+ people and bikes couldn’t quite find him in the parking lot.  What I did find in the parking lot was that my computer was non-functional!  What is it with me and bike computers?  I would be navigating with a cue sheet and would have to estimate distances, a throwback to LEL.

Until the first control at 43 miles, the 200k and 300k had the same route, so I got to talk to lots of people.  

Eric Peterson - GPS Man

There was the rider known as “E” whose actually name was spoken in my deaf ear and I don’t actually know.  He was riding with another man just getting into randonneuring and the two of them bantered back and forth like an old married couple.  It was truly hysterical.

The first 43 miles of tailwind plus sort of flat terrain (meaning endless rollers) went really fast.  So fast that I found myself sitting in Brodhead at the start of a long 150 miles of solo ride.  No sign of SpinBob.  I decided to forge on, bought some water, got my card stamped and chomped down a rice bar.   As I started pulling out, SpinBob pulled in.  I figured I would soft pedal it and he would easily catch me.  A previous email had mentioned a 13:40 on his previous weeks 300k; sure it was flat but that’s fast.

Fishing opener?

So I rolled out alone across the town of Brodhead enjoying the tailwind, even if it was a tad chilly.   I picked up the pace after 15 minutes or so to stay warm and 3 riders blasted by me in a paceline.  At least one of them was wearing a PAC tour kit.  PAC tour riders are universally fast and hard core and so I let them go and just continued on certain that Bob would catch me. 

Nye Road, big rollers in the distance

The hills of this part of Wisconsin actually remind me of France in some ways.  They roll gently with some steep pitches in places and I noticed that spring had indeed sprung in this part of the country.  Forsythia was in bloom and the occasional daffodil greeted me on street corners of the small towns.  It has been quite dry and streams were a little down, but still flowing.  Makes the watery side of my happy to ride near creeks and streams.

I pedaled up through Albany and into the larger rollers and past the many dairy farms and creameries of the area – this is Wisconsin, land of dairy.   I had to pay fairly close attention to navigation – it would not do to miss a turn here and my previous rides had been with SpinBob, who knows all the roads very well.  At the intersection marked Silver Road, I had to stop and consider the distance carefully, the road didn’t have an actual sign, just Cty D and I had to size up the meaning of that half mile.

As I sat there, SpinBob and another rider came up.  It turns out I was confused because this particular intersection had been the subject of debates past.  The other rider went one way and I followed SpinBob since I had been wanting to talk to him.

Kent just after New Glarus

Unfortunately, he was in considerable stomach distress from the flu.   New rando rule, don’t try a hilly 300k after 30 hours of the stomach flu expecting a miracle (not everyone has 8 years of colitis to toughen them up for the experience).   We passed along Nye Road which has 3 very intense rollers – the end is nye…..

As we turned to descend to New Glarus, Bob was on the phone (he can do that while riding, I can’t).  He’d just called Melissa to come pick him up at New Glarus.  But at least we got to chat for a few minutes.   We said our goodbyes, though I did wind up seeing him briefly in New Glarus.

Things you can do with PVC and spray foam

I caught up to the other rider, whose name was Kent, outside of New Glarus.  The 3 riders that had passed us were still there having a break.  Kent and I agreed to ride together that night.  I’m into safety at night and there is nothing safer than numbers.  Kent also had a PAC tour kit on so I was a bit worried about being able to keep up.  However, I did have climbing lessons from Lisa to fall back on and a certain amount of fitness built up from my winter SR.  These guys were fresh out of the gym, if that. 

The strategy worked pretty well.  Indeed, climbing lessons from Lisa helped me be slightly less hamster-like and more goat-like on the hills.  I’ll have to thank her as I shamelessly beg for more climbing lessons and her recipe for bars.   I found myself climbing far more easily than I had any of the previous years.  After San Diego, the hills seemed quite a bit tamer.  And we still had a tailwind….

Kent was a very fast descender and I had to be in the drops and pedaling to keep up.  We rolled along at a very fast clip through Blue Valley and closed on Barneveld with somewhat alarming speed.   No way that is really because I am a great cyclist.  I had a sneaking suspicion we might be paying for it soon.

We crossed the 3 ridges easily and just kept going, the BP Station in Barneveld came too quickly and I rolled in to have my card stamped at 1:55pm.  Gulp, a sub-7 hour century.  My thighs are not museum grade – well maybe the Museum of Old Bike Parts grade, but not National Museum of Art or the Louvre.  The flag was straight out from the east and rippled like it was going to shred into pieces at any moment.

 

The 3 PAC tour guys were once again at the control and sitting down for a Subway.  I had rice bars and my very last Lisa bar.  Sad to see it go, it went for a good cause. 

We took some pictures and I got some names for the PAC Tour:  Mark, Michael and Jim. 

Road Pixie: BP to PBP?

Kent and I left first on the now eastbound trip back to Delavan.  Turning into the wind was a shocker indeed.  I found myself very happy that I had no computer to be able to tell how fast we were going.  The ten miles of rollers to Mt Horab were a major slog, not much of a windbreak, climbing and straight into the wind.  There was quite a bit of traffic and a limited shoulder as well, making it difficult to impossible to switch places.  About 4 miles out of town, the other 3 riders grated by in their paceline, but they were working pretty hard to do it.

Mt Horab is an interesting town known for its Trollway, a collection of carved trolls on the main drag.  I’ve always thought of stopping here, but never quite had time and wouldn’t this time either.  Kent and I stopped briefly to pick up a charging cable for his GPS.  Since I had no computer, I heartily agreed that was worth the time.   Goodness knows how I got so technologically challenged.

As we descended the road out of Mt Horab through the forest, there were deer watching us pass.  Early in the year, before the leaves are out, it’s much easier to see them.  We passed several other cyclists stopped in the road watching them as well.

The next section to Oregon was about 30 miles and the hills continued, providing some shelter from the wind.  At the top of one ridge, smoke was blowing in the distance and some other cyclists were also watching.   Thinking of last week’s fire ride, I asked if they knew what was on fire, the response a shrug and “the British are coming”.  Hey, they might have been tired too.

Small towns - 855 people

The rest of the way to Oregon was hilly and the final stretch was busy and we were glad to pull into the control.  As expected, 3 bikes right there.  We all had a nice discussion as we ate various foods (rice cakes and some carrot cake for me and hot dogs for them).   The next leg was 25 miles to Edgerton.  Still going due east. 

That section actually passed very easily and it wasn’t 8:00AM when we got there: only 28 miles to go.  At this point, it was time to put on reflective gear and Michael realized that his new reflective vest was not actually reflective.  Bummer.

Trolls in Mt Horab

So I rooted around and we attached everything spare I had that was reflective to his body with staples and other methods.  In the end, he had lights, tape, even gloves attached to his body.  Sure it looked weird, but darn, it worked really well.  The 5 of us also decided to just ride the last 28 miles as a group.  This made me really happy because I had given away my spare light and now I couldn’t see my cue sheet.

It was a good thing we did because the wind then proceeded to pick up.  Sections of M had dirt blowing all over them, visible even in the dark.  In sections it was like riding against a wall.  Jim, who had done the PAC Elite Transcontinental, would get ahead, but apparently he didn’t have a cue sheet or a GPS so no one was concerned that he would get too far ahead.  Apparently, he had been pulling the trio all day.

I was just shot at this point and so was Micheal (who I was following).  We dropped back a little for the final trip up the Delavan mini-wall.

The five of us basically dribbled in together and we all got a picture.  Which was really fun.  I’ve never finished with so many people.  We got a nice picture with the box of brevet cards.  10:30 PM - everyone together!  And it wasn't even midnight yet!

Epilogue

I was too tired to do anything except get my bike into my room.  It was too much energy to chew the chips I had in the room so I ate all the guacamole with a spoon.  And the two teens in the next room were in a massive case of teen angst; since we had a connecting door, I got to hear every word they said and we would have all gotten more sleep if they had had a little more experience....but there is only so much a tired randonneuse can do. 

What a ride and a different from the previous year!  My thanks to Jim Kreps who puts so much energy into creating and running these rides; with 60 people total and almost half of them showing up on the day, that’s amazing.  I hope that I do as good a job as he does someday.  And my thanks to Kent, Jim, Michael and Mark who spent the day with me.  I thought I was going to spend 150 miles all by myself.  And hopefully, SpinBob will recover from the flu soon.

The Fire Ride

“Hey, does that feel good on your legs?”

“Yeah, it kind of does, like a campfire”

I have ridden in all kinds of conditions.  I once finished a 200k in a snowstorm during rush hour.  I’ve been in lightning, tornadoes, hail, rockslides, and epic heat.  But until Saturday, the route had never been on fire.

Now I have seen it all.

Truthfully, the fire was only a small part of a really nice ride.  Let’s face it, no one remembers rides where everything goes perfectly.  So some spice is very nice to have.  This particular 200k is sort of a season opener for me.  My original plan was to do it on the tandem as a populaire with IronK.  However, as it worked out 1) she wasn’t confident her backside was up to 70 miles yet and 2) she had surgery the day before to finally remove her chemotherapy port.    So she had good excuses to stay home and pet cats.   Most people were doing the 200k so 2 days before the ride, I upgraded.

Of course it just wasn’t challenging enough to ride 200k less than a week after finishing an amazing 600k.  The Summer Knight (my rando bike) wasn’t even back from San Diego.  So I hauled out the Princess and made plans to drive both directions in one day.  It was only 3 hours to the start so if I left at 4:00 AM, I would easily make an 8:00am start.  I figured 10 hours to ride it and three hours driving back.  I’d be home around 9.   Gee, what a masochistic twit I am sometimes.

So I got up at 3:00AM, drank coffee, ate breakfast and cruised for Ames, IA.  At least there was absolutely no traffic on the way down and I got to see a very nice sunrise.  Minnesota was just on the cusp of spring and dry as a bone.  Iowa had seen some more rain and is generally a few weeks ahead.  By the time the sun came up, the grass was much greener than my still-dead front lawn.

I had plenty of time at the start.  The forecast had no rain, but it was only in the low 40s with the high forecasted in the high 60s.  I had brought an extra jacket just in case.  Besides, it had pockets.

I did the registration and saw some people I hadn’t seen in quite a while.  There was Scott, who I had ridden a very hot 400k with a couple years previously.  I hadn’t seen him in ages and he had a different bike with wider tires and a very rando friendly setup.  Marlin, who I had also ridden with years before was also there.   About 30 people were crowded at the start.  There was even a recumbent tandem trike – not something you see every day.  The RBA, Greg, is a super nice guy and I enjoy his routes.  He had the travel bug even worse than I do – he may be up to about 30 states in the American Explorer. 

Ride Briefing - Greg and some midwesterners dazzled by the sun

After registering, I realized my jacket was just going to overheat me.  So I threw it in the car and locked up.

We had a ride briefing and rolled out right on time.  There was a fast group planning on doing the ride in under 8 hours.  I would not be riding with them – though I can appreciate the body it takes to do such a thing.  I pulled out behind them with Scott right behind me.  Without the jacket, I rolled up to about 15 mph to stay warm.

The wind was from the south-southeast and was already revving up.  Flags were approaching taught by 8:30 as we rolled by small farms.  The route took us east to Nevada (that’s Na-vey-da, by the way) then we turned south for about 15 miles as the start of a big loop.  Turning south right into the wind dropped the pace a bit, but Scott and I stuck together and eventually settled into something in the 13-14 mph range, it was early in the ride – good pacing early in the ride makes for a nicer “later” in the ride.  The wind was picking up fast.  Forecasts were for 25-30 mph gusts in the afternoon: a real Great Plains kind of day.

Scott - It's only 40 degrees

In contrast to my paranoia about being too cold, Scott was wearing shorts and short sleeves.  He has an interesting strategy of dressing for the temperature exactly in between the high and the low forecasted for the day.   That way, he may be a bit cold at the start, but won’t overdress.   I may try this sometime.  Though I am not sure that I would wear shorts and short sleeves at 55 (which was halfway between 40 and 69 degrees).  We came down the first descent, which offers some really nice views at about 15 miles and I started taking more pictures.

As we chugged along, we started smelling smoke and ahead we could see the swirling, smoggy evidence of a fire ahead.  IronK used to participate in controlled burns so I knew that it couldn’t be one of them (they have very tight rules for how strong the wind can be).  I figured it was someone getting ride of something in the backyard, though with a strong wind, they picked a terrible day. 

Approaching the fire - seems kind of big...

The cloud got larger and larger and pretty soon we could see the smoke rising over the road.  Hmmm, that doesn’t generally happen and there really were not many houses around in this area.  As we got closer, it became apparent that this was not a normal situation.  “Hey, is it just me or is the route on fire?” 

I’d been having horrible issues with my asthma since returning from California.  This really wasn’t going to help much.

I had no clue how to get around it and with grasses being so low, I didn’t think there was much chance that it would jump the road, so we just pressed on through the smoky cloud.  It lasted for about ½ mile to a mile, the flames high out farther out in the fields were there was more fuel from the previous year’s tilled corn stalks.   I did my best to not breathe.  Big flames from a distance did not capture well on the camera, but the effect was kind of surreal with big, blackened areas coming right up to the road.  The bulk of the fire was paralleling the road due to the wind direction.  The thermometer on my bike also climbed about 15 degrees very quickly….

Seems kind of hot....

We came up to a line of houses to find the fire burning merrily in their back yards.  Lucky for them the strong wind was from the south, not the west. 

The info control was just ahead.  I wondered briefly what the ruling is if you arrive at an info control and it has burned up, but it was outside the fire zone.  We stopped for a snack, to write down the answers to the control questions.  A bunch of other people behind us pulled up noting how miserable it was to ride through the smoke.  I would wind up using my emergency inhaler about 6 times on this ride, which is a lot for me in one day.  But having a full-blown attack in the middle of nowhere in Iowa was not on my plan.  The wind meant dust and particulates too.

Seems like it's on the road

A couple of miles later, we started angling west as we rounded the loop.  The next 15 or so miles were with a rapidly growing cross wind, so the pace picked back up.  With no more fire to worry about, we moved along enjoying the brisk morning and a big sun in the blue sky.   Not too dry and they hadn’t really started fertilizing fields, so enjoying the scenery was easy.  You can see for an awfully long way when the trees are barren, but in many places tiny buds were also pushing their way towards the sun.

About a 10 mph wind

 We turned onto the High Trestle Trail to begin enjoying a substantial tailwind.  This is one of my secrets to enjoying the wind: whenever it is a foe, it will at some point become a friend.  Effortlessly pedaling at 20mph to Madrid (that’s Maee-drid) was a real spoiler after 20 some miles of headwind.  The first control was at the Flat Iron Bar a bicycling bar (unique) right on the trail.

We arrived there at the 48 mile mark around 10:30-11  Scott went ahead to get a drink and I rummaged around shedding layers.  At this point I also realized that my wallet was now sitting in my jacket pocket back at the car.  This was to be a no money ride.  That was a brief panic and led to no photos being taken.  Fortunately, I hadn’t cleaned out any of my bags since California.  I had tossed 3-4 rice bars in that morning and low and behold, I had two bags of Lisa’s date-oat bars.  Sweet!  I figured that should get me through the 200k, though it might be tight.

Rando bikes

So I pulled off the bottles and went up to the bar.  The tender gladly signed my card and filled my bottles with water without any money.   Midwestern sensibility, or maybe it was my legs (nah, they still look a mess). 

Scott was outside and we were saved from starvation by a friendly guy who offered us homemade cinnamon rolls in exchange for us taking pictures of his cycling group.  He was injured and was providing a food stop.  Wow, they were good too.  He had apparently been working on the mysteries of yeast for a while.  And he took our picture too.  About 4 riders showed up just as we were leaving – leap frog, rando style.

Lucky find at the bar

Substantially refreshed by cinnamon rolls, we crossed over the High Trestle Bridge.  Spectacular in the day, it’s even more spectacular at night when lit up.  This is a high point of the scenery of the ride and I always enjoy going over it.

From the other end of the trail, we once again started stair-stepping north west and the wind was an ally.  We descended the second of the three “dips” on the route and my legs were feeling the previous 600k as we climbed up to Ogden on the other side.  At least I wasn’t going to surprise myself by suddenly being a great climber.

Scott and an impecunious Pixie

At Ogden, Scott loaned me enough to buy some juice and we tanked up on water for the next section to Story City.  We had another 10 miles of tailwind and would then have about 45 miles of cross and headwinds to finish out the loop.  The wind was gusting heavily now and it was after noon.  Along with juice, I had a rice cake and a date nut bar.  The 25 miles of cross wind were going to be a long way. 

Entrance to the High Trestle Bridge

During the next 10 miles, I got to hear a more detailed account of RAGBRAI, which I have never actually done.  RAGBRAI is a ride across Iowa and has a reputation for being a giant kegger, but Scott has done it and apparently there are serious cyclists there too (or at least ones not doing the kegger part).  They leave in the early morning while everyone else is sleeping it off.  Maybe someday….

Tailwinds in the flats are a bittersweet feeling.  On the one had, they make one feel as though conquering the world is simple.  Minimal pedaling nets 20+ mph gains in a 20 mph tailwind.  But alas, always there is the knowledge that the turn is coming.  And so it did.

We rounded the loop at Pilot Mound to find the wind a bit more feisty than when we last left it.  This was to be a long 25 miles.  Traffic showed up on and off which was also surprising.  There were some times that we almost had to lean sideways to stay up and this section was somewhat of a slog, but we made it through with a couple of brief stops for Scott to stretch his toes.  He has PBP plans as well and is working through all the picky fitting details.  I kept eating date-nut bars to offset the extra work.

The Wind in the Willows

 A couple miles outside Story City we briefly turned north and the now-tailwind  became still as we moved at about the same speed up the road.  The other problem with tailwinds is that when you match their speed, you can get hot very quickly on a nice day and I was sweating when we turned into Story City and the control.

It was around 3:40pm and the wind was at full strength.  Flags were taught on the lines and rippling hard in the gusts.  We got the cards signed and finished off our food in preparation for the last 20 miles of headwind.  I also got a text from Lisa, who is going to be paying a visit in June for the GLR 600k.   My phone kept telling me it had no signal (or maybe it was lying).  I couldn’t tell whether it was working or not. 

An Iowa Tradition

So we pulled out of Story City at around 4.  Over I35 and onto the back roads once more.   It seems like the same headwind was around last year, though not as strong.  We passed through Roland, a very nice Scandinavian town and lamented the state of the wind.   Truthfully, we only had about 10 miles of it as we stair-stepped back to Ames. 

Interesting old farm house - 19th/20th century

We paused at a really interesting old farm house, probably early 20^th century, to stretch the feet once more.

The last 3 miles were more tailwind, but I had some gas left and we pulled into the Quality Inn just before 6.  Still strong and glad for a nice ride.

Many thanks to Scott who made for a great day on the bike and to Greg Courtney who always has fun, laid back rides that are far more scenic than Hollywood would lead you to believe.

Big Finish - See you in May for the 400k!

Postscript

The drive home was pretty awful.  Even with eating well after the ride, I was beat by the time I got home to the Twin Cities.  Next time, I’m getting a room.

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