Holy Rollers Batman! It's my Old Kentucky Home

Since it appears that the Tombstone 600k in Arizona is somehow just cursed for me, and I wanted the last of my SR to be in the Spring, I was left to find another ride to put in its place.  Looking around, there were many options, but I finally settled on returning to the place I originally learned how to ride a bike in the first place.

I actually grew up in Southwestern Ohio, but there are no randonneurs there.  There is a group in Columbus, but I lived there for 10 years and Central Ohio is totally different in terms of terrain and it just doesn't feel like home.  Much more to my liking were the hills of Kentucky, where I spent countless vacations as a child.  Mom actually still lives in the area and I launched a brilliant idea, I would ride the Louisville 600k on April 30.   This ride starts and ends in Shelbyville.

I contacted Steve Rice, the local RBA and asked about the climbing on the ride and the weather expectations.  Having a 10 year old's memories, my perceptions were likely to be tainted (they turned out to be correct).  I remembered giant hills in Kentucky, and they are still very big.  His response to the elevation, "well, you really can't measure it, I could root around for some maps".  Note to self, whenever and  RBA says you can't measure the elevation on their 600k, it's going to be a big number.  As far as the weather, I remembered it right: anything could happen.  I got my plane tickets and made arrangements to ship the princess to Mom.

About a week before the ride, I noticed many weather warnings about Kentucky having records rains and flooding so I called Mom.  "Well, it's the most rain we've had since 1937 - it's been raining every day for the last 3 weeks but I am sure it has to quit sometime soon".  I responded thinking of the devastating storms in the south, "How about tornadoes?  Any of them around?".  "Oh no", was the happy response, "those were last week".  I commenced packing some really heavy duty rain gear.  "One more thing", she said before ringing off, "we're having real problems here with bedbugs, they've infested most hotels".  Should make for a more interesting sleep stop.  I made reservations at the Days Inn and warned mom that I typically look like hell after these rides (it's only polite to warn your mom before she sees these things).  IronK decided to come as well with the plan that she and Mom would do the tourist thing and see Mammoth Cave while I was riding.  

Shockingly, the forecast solidified into a call for sunny and 70 degrees on Saturday, but with some possible thunderstorms on Sunday.  Steve Rice warned solidly against attempting to ride through.  There were NO facilities on the last 200k and the turnaround was informational.  I decided to take his advice up front.   That was a very good move (and good advice).

We arrived in Shelbyville on Friday night and treated ourselves to dinner at Claudia Sanders Dinner Room (yes, the Colonel's wife had a restaurant herself).  When else can you eat a meal with fried chicken, mashed potatoes with milk gravy, and baked apples guilt free?  The Days Inn had just steam cleaned the entire second floor, changed all the bedding, mattresses and just about everything else.   I laid everything out that I would need for the turnaround the next night and we had a cooler full of food.  With everything fumigated we decided this was definitely a good week to stay there.

The ride started at 4:00AM which turns out is a great time to start a 400k (the distance of the first section).  Temps were in the 40s and 21 riders started out including another woman and a tandem.  I had counted on everyone being faster than me (the local advantage) so I wasn't surprised when most people rocketed away into the darkness.  It was cool, but not cold enough for long fingered gloves and the stars were really beautiful.  There were lots of steep, choppy rollers even at the beginning, but I was able to navigate them pretty well despite the darkness.   We turned on to Pea Grade Rd and up a very steep road that reminded me of my friend Gary's Wisconsin permanent, it was the first of many, many very steep climbs.  As we descended down into a valley, I looked over to see a GIGANTIC dog about to pounce on me!  This was the first of many dogs to give chase and I am actually much more comfortable around them now.  I got good at throwing things at them; I actually wanged a schnauzer on the nose with a fig newton on day 2.

It gradually got light starting around 6:30 and I finally got a really good look at my surroundings.  Lush, verdant grass, budding trees, flowering honeysuckle and dogwoods were everywhere.  The sun was out, apparently for the first time in about 3 weeks but I have to say that a foot of rain sure gets things growing.  It is an early spring in Kentucky so many flowers were out as well. 

The route winded its way next to a creek before ascending out to a flat area.  The route tries to avoid busy roads as much as possible by ducking off of them onto quiet, narrow roads.  The pavement on these was outstanding.  It was smooth with far fewer potholes and mealy areas than in Minnesota.  A real joy to ride in.  I was by myself as I descended along Oregon Road.  There had been some concern that flooding would have caused a re-route and I am glad it didn't.  Oregon winds along the Kentucky River and the sun was just burning the fog off of it.  I stopped to take pictures and enjoy the scenery for a few minutes. 

  

The Kentucky River at Dawn



Oregon Road winds through a bit of a hollow and then has a long, steep climb about a mile total.  I hit tempo easily and made my way up.  More rollers greeted me for the next 10 miles into Harrodsburg, the first control at 65 miles.  I got there around 8:45 and one other rider was just finishing up.  I bought some chocolate milk, happy to find no problem finding whole chocolate milk (so much better than the lowfat stuff).  I was getting ready to leave when the tandem and a recumbent pulled in.  The tandem was ridden by Jody and Steve from Louisville.  The recumbent was a guy named Ken from Columbus, Indiana (birthplace of Road Pixie's father).  They were doing a turn-and-burn so I waited.  Going to far with no one else around does some odd things to one's brain that I wanted to avoid.

The four of us stuck together until Stanford.  The rollers flattened slightly but there were lots of steady, false flats and extended climbs.  The tandem was slow on the uphills, but just flew down the hills.  I can't wait to get on the tandem with IronK this summer.  We all had pleasant conversation and even though I could have gone faster, it really picked up my spirits.  We rolled into Stanford around 11:45 to be greeted by a very unhappy randonneur with a bad tire.  Steve was a bike mechanic and the tandem stopped to help.  Ken left very quickly, but I felt like I needed food so I had a chicken sandwich and took a few minutes adding some oatmeal cream pies.  I couldn't help with the wheel so I took off for Liberty alone, 30 miles away.

Stanford

The next 30 miles were rolling and pleasant though uphill and into the wind for the most part.  About halfway there, I was passed by several groups of riders on the return trip.  These are the aforementioned local riders who probably have bionic legs too.  I stopped to take more pictures of the bucolic scenery. 

 

There was a 4-5 mile shallow climb up the ridge before Liberty followed by a 16% grade twisting descent into town.  Traffic was also heavy but at this point I realized just how polite Kentucky drivers are.

At the turnaround, I ran back into Ken who was finishing a danish.  I grabbed some water and stayed a scant 15 minutes and left with him.  He was a stronger climber on the 16% grade going up (it was easier going down).  Cars simply lined up behind us and patiently ascended at 4-5mph.  Even though it was a mile long and steep enough to really hurt, I never felt like gasping (note to self, nominate the asthma doctor that changed the meds two weeks ago for saint hood).  I got to the top and sped along quite quickly.  The ride back was again by myself.

This was where I encountered my first curiosity of the ride.  A pickup truck politely passed me, driving very slowly.  After they got about 600 yards in front, guns started going off.  At this point, I realized they were actually firing out of the moving truck!  It must have been some kind of hunting thing because they traveled fairly slowly (I gave them lots of space too) and I would see a rifle poke out the side and open fire.  Kind of interesting.

Back in Stanford, I again ran into Ken and we chatted for about 15 minutes while scarfing down more food.  Gas stations on this route are for the most part Mom+Pop shops where they still have price tags on goods.  The food is good too.  Ken is also planning on doing PBP and had some very interesting stories of how he came to ride a recumbent.  My hats off to him, he's a fast rider on it.  We pulled out again and were within sight of each other for about 20 miles until I got stuck by a train crossing. 


Shaker Stone Fence near Harrodsburg

 Riding alone again, I picked up the pace and cooked along, pleased at how well I was feeling.  At this point, it was only about 6:00 pm and I pulled back into Harrodsburg (Ken was there waiting) about 30 minutes before the sun went down.   Ken and I made a sort of tacit agreement to team up in the dark, but he road ahead for some time, nearly to Oregon when I caught up with him again.  The descent on Oregaon was in twilight which made it almost ethereal.  The climb out was in the dark.

Ken was about 50 yards ahead when a jeep pulled up behind me and someone whistled at my butt.  I might have been freaked anywhere else, but I decided to just wave them past and take it as a complement (hey, after thousands of miles, my butt should be worth whistling at).  I caught back up with Ken at the top of Oregon.  By this time, it was dark and clouds had moved in, a harbinger of the day to come.
More hills and rollers all the way to Hammonds Creek Road wore me down a bit and we separated briefly.  At this point, two pickups buzzed me (which was odd at 11:00 pm).  I was almost dozing on the bike and picked up my pace, drank some water, and hummed the Carpenters "We've only just begun" to keep awake.  Ken waited for me ahead and was concerned about the pickups.  We stuck together the rest of the night "no solo cyclists should be on this road" was his statement.  That giant dog chased us again as we returned; we pedaled fast.

It rained for long enough to make us uselessly put on rain gear along Pea Grade Rd.  Then it stopped and we pulled into the Waffle House (400k) at just before 1:30.   A respectable time (21:30) for a total of 16,960 feet of climbing by my GPS.  I went straight to my room, threw off my clothes, devoured about 1000 calories and hit the pillow by 2:00 am after making a wake up call for 5:15 am.   I was instantly asleep.  Mom really helped me out by making me a sandwich, pouring my chocolate milk and making sure I took all my meds.  If you ever want a first class support crew, take your mother.  IronK pretty much slept through the whole thing. 

I awoke to the sound of what I thought was someone dropping their bike box.  I realized quickly that it was 5:35!  Mom got up too and started making coffee and breakfast.  I wondered what the weather was like so I threw open the door to "Night on Bald Mountain".  Sheets of rain blew sideways in a howling wind with lightning, thunder, the whole 9 yards.  I half expected the wicked witch to ride by.  I started laughing as I closed the door and got out the laptop.  Sure enough, a mushroom cloud of thunderstorms was over the area.  I mused on the fortune of having ridden in so much crappy weather; no one can wax philosophical on weather like I can.  Mom loaned me her rain pants (I had given them to her for Christmas) as temps were in the 50s and mine were going to be a bit on the warm side.  I discarded my rack bad (it was just going to turn into a soggy weight) and took my tool back and plenty of lights.  I only had 200k to go and I wasn't missing it.  Mom gave me a hug goodbye.

As I took the first turn onto Pearce Industrial Blvd, the 18 mph wind blew hard in my face and the lightning cracked very hard.  I continued on thinking "at least it isn't sleeting".  It was a south wind which meant a headwind for the next 62 miles.  As I hummed alone down Zaring Mill Road, I noticed that the lightning had stopped and the rain wasn't so hard.  The wind was tough but I made my way through Breshears Creek where the worst of the flooding had obviously been.  Mud covered the road in placed and the recent rain had turned the creek into a murky rush.  Rocks and sticks littered the road and I was careful to avoid them.  The rain lessened somewhat.  The area was beautiful in the soft rain at dawn and I was actually enjoying myself immensely, even the very steep hills didn't get me down.  The narrow, twisting roads seem to have a calming effect on me, perhaps a vestige of my childhood?

I got to KY44 and the next 15 miles were not fun.  Still pretty, but the narrow twisting roads gave way to big, long rollers along with a descent to the Taylorsville Dam.  It was still raining, but my gear kept me pretty dry.  Finally, I turned east on 1066 and marveled at yet more huge descents and ascents, as though the baby rollers from the previous day had grown up.

1066 turns from a big, highway like road back to a narrow one and has several major climbs.  I was happy to turn along a creek towards Chaplin.  At Chaplin was a tiny gas station with several bikes out from and a bunch of guys eating outside (yes, I again ran into Ken).  I jumped off the bike, grabbed a Yahoo, used the bathroom and was back on the bike before any of the guys were ready.  I was on a mission at this point!  There was a screaming, twisting descent out of Chaplin into a beautiful little valley.  Another long set of climbs put me on top of a ridge for about 6-7 miles.  At this point, two of the guys from Chaplin caught up, these were Dave and Jeff.  Sadly, I didn't get to talk to Jeff very much because shortly, he was chased off by dogs.  Dave was a really nice guy from Lexington who has done the Shenandoah, a ride with 50,000 ft of climbing that gives me the shivers.  Ken had crashed on the descent out of Chaplin and was okay (a little road rash) but continuing at his own pace.

We made our way to Perryville across Battlefield Road, named for a large Civil War battle that happened there.  A plaque stands to commemorate one of the bloodiest and most important battles of the Civil war in 1862.  It was a strategic Union victory as it forced the Army of Mississippi out of Kentucky and left it under Union control for the rest of the war.  Ironically, generals on both sides had their honor severely damaged due the way that the campaign was conducted.  Today all that is left is rolling hills and a State Historic Site.  Most of the towns on this route are civil war era which is fascinating unto itself.  I do have a history degree so these things stand out to me.

At Perryville, I stopped for almost 45 minutes as the Informational control was open and I was hungry after 6 hours and about 4,500 ft of climbing.  I might have stayed a little less time, but it was fun talking with the others.  I had an entire can of Chef Boyardee ravioli right out of the can.  This proved very rejuvenating, although I think it may have actually been really gross too.  Sometime, the hunger thing can eclipse a lot.  At this point, the rain had been gone for some time and it was in the mid 60s.  I took of my rain pants and stashed them in a pocket and pulled out at 1:30 with Dave and Jeff.  Now the 20 mph headwind was a tailwind!  Ken was arriving as we were leaving, but I wouldn't see him again until the finish.

Being from a plains state, I am used to tailwinds that strong being a huge help.  Not so in such hilly terrain.  It took about 45 minutes to digest lunch, but I found myself picking up the pace afterwards.  Dave and Jeff had gone ahead at this point and I chatted with another man before getting worried about time and picking up my pace.  By 3:00 pm I had 40 miles left and 5 hours to do it in, but there were lots of hills so I decided to push the pace more.  I passed Dave and Jeff in Chaplin and retraced my steps on the hills of 1066.  I stopped to call Mom and IronK about 18 miles from the finish to let them know when to expect me.

Breshears Creek was even prettier and hillier on the return, and I made good time through the hills.  Several wall-like climbs greeted me on way and in past years, they would have been really tough.  But not this time.  I spun up patiently and arrived at about 6:40 PM at the Days Inn.  Mom and IronK were there to welcome me back, they had kept the room until 8:00 pm so I showered and got some recovery food going.   They had been at a winery all day (nice life) and enjoyed the tourist thing.

This was by far my best 600k ever in terms of riding.  Getting the asthma treated was simply huge as well as spending so much time fitting the bike correctly and rebuilding my hamstring.  I marvel at how many parts have changed on my bike since last summer.  No coughing or weakness at the end.  I am certain I could have gone much farther at this point.  The real question now is how much farther.

This was also a ride where I knew food stops would be an issue so I brought quite a bit of my own.  I wound up nibbling on fig newtons and pecans about every 20 minutes as a result.  I suspect this helped me avoid the stomach upset that so often comes by preventing my digestive system from shutting down (it was nearly always doing something small at least).  I probably rode two thirds of the route alone which also was really nice.  All the people I met were really wonderful to ride with.

I chatted with Steve Rice briefly at the end, the 4 guys I had seen in Chaplin all finished as well which was excellent.   Steve and Jody on the tandem had quit after 400k, but this is their first year and I am certain they will be back.  On a sadder note, one guy did attempt to ride through the night against advice.  He crashed near Breshears creek in the middle of the night alone and went to the hospital with a concussion - a reminder of my favorite saying "there is a fine line between bragging rights and a Darwin Award".  Several DNF'd upon waking to the thunderstorms, but they really were not an issue for me.  All that winter riding in Minnesota paid off.

I've heard this ride was early because of PBP.  It's usually in June.  I shudder to think of that route in 90+ degree temperatures.  Now that I don't live there, those temps would be tough to acclimate to.  My hats off to the local riders, every one of them was in fantastic shape, you can see the effects that riding hills all the time has.  I will have to spend much more time climbing in Wisconsin this year if PBP is to be a success.

A Pair Of 200ks

Since I am catching up on writing and George says that I am of the verbose sort, I thought I would roll my two 200ks in April into one report.  Both were official brevets, the first on 4/9 was in Waterloo, Iowa and the second on 4/23 was here in the Twin Cities.

Iowa - Brown has NEVER looked so good
Anyone living in Minnesota this winter was sick of snow by the beginning of April.  Even having escaped twice to Arizona, I was sick of snow.  I had managed to keep up my long distance riding over Jan and Feb, but only at the cost of riding in some of the more dangerous conditions I have ever ridden in.  Note to self: Self, even if that winter storm is supposed to stay 100 miles away, don't believe a word of it.

IronK was off to the tropical paradise of Bonaire (of the coast of Venezuala) for a week of snorkeling.  What's a saddended randonneuse to do with a week alone?  Why, I should truck myself 4 hours south to Waterloo and do the very first 200k of the season of course.  I drove down the night before and stayed over at the Days Inn which has been remodeled if you are planning a visit.  I had no idea anyone else from the Twin Cities was going and was surprised to find Bob E at the start. He'd spent the night in his car; I felt guilty all day.

My memories of this route are painful since last time I did it with a ripped hamstring.  It is about as close to flat as you can get.  But I like Robert Fry, the RBA and this time he started the ride from his house so that everyone could gather together and socialize after the ride was finished.  What a great idea from my perspective since there were many riders from Rochester and Iowa that I otherwise never really get to talk to.  Of course, it was rather rainy the night before and the forecast was for wind.  It is the plains after all.

We left at 8:00am which is just about the latest start I've ever done for a brevet.  I had carelessly forgotten my battery charger which left me with somewhat dim lights.  So it was crucial to finish in under 11 hours to avoid a DQ for riding in the dark.  In retrospect, it was good to have the incentive.  I am not a super fast rider and most of the pack disappeared over the horizon as we left the city.  However, to my great surprise, behind me was Marlin, whom I met on this very ride last year.  I hadn't seen him since the AV600k the previous year.  We wound up riding together the entire day.  Super nice guy and a pleasure to chat with.

This entire ride was basically a love-hate the wind festival.  It was blowing very strongly from the east and moved towards the south as the day went on.  The temps were only in the 40s which was a bit chilly and I was glad I had put tights on and shoe covers.  There wasn't much sun either as it had been raining recently.  The first 50 miles or so were pretty unremarkable except for the obvious joy in my heart at seeing NO SNOW.  There is nothing that makes a girl from the north happier in the spring than to finally not see snow anywhere.  In fact, little blades of grass were even occaisionally visible.  Sure there were a couple of farmers doing the fertilizer thing, but really, the sight of brown fields can be so invigorating!  There was moving water in the creeks too.  All these things thath northerners learn to pine for all winter.

The magic started at about 11:00am when the sun came out of the clouds and the temperatures shot up into the 70s.  We stopped a couple of times finally shedding all our clothes at the turnaround in Volga.  FIRST SHORT SLEEVES AND SHORTS OF THE SEASON!!!!!!  I even danced in the bathroom after taking off my tights.

The wind had been mainly a headwind coming and was mainly a tailwind leaving, except when we turned southwest.  I had forgotten my GPS and my computer so I really never knew which way I was pointing.  Fortunately, it's hard to get lost on this route.  There were some hard pulls in the wind, which Marlin was really very good at.  I'd like to say that I am really a brute rider, but alas, at this point I was whimpy.  I hope Marlin forgives me.

We pulled in to Robert's place at about 6:15 with plenty of light remaining.  In fact there were 4 others behind us and no one actually need lights.  Robert had a huge feast going and I got to sit down and talk to Mark O from Rochester who has ridden so many 1200ks that I suspect he has legs in his closet the way I have pants there.  He's a great source of wisedom to those wanting to take on a good challenge too.

I left to drive back to the Twin Cities through what turned out to be a massive storm system complete with a tornado (okay, it was still many miles from the freeway, but it was around).

Apple Valley Opener (it's like the fishing opener on wheels)
This ride was a watershed event for me.  I can say that I owe it all to IronK.  Sadly, the cancer has now made it dangerous for her to scuba dive (what with losing so much lung and all).  We went to two different dive medicine specialists ending at Dr James Lakin (hereafter known as WonderDoc) who explained in excellent detail what the risks and problems were.  Having had some many issues over the winter with being short of breath and being somewhat dissatisfied with my GP, on the way out I made an appointment.

So 1 week before this ride, I was examined and finally diagnosed with asthma.  Not just exercise induced stuff, the real thing.  I didn't fare very well in the methacholine challenge that he ordered so considering my activity level and real dissatisfaction with my performance late in rides, he ordered some more amped up medication.  Within days, I could feel the difference.  I may nominate Dr Lakin for sainthood.  He wound up solving problems that had haunted me for years.

So this ride wasn't so much about beautiful scenery or people, it was about lungs.  In fact, my goal was to not use too much energy on this ride since I had a 600k coming up the following weekend.  The day started in the 40s and eventually got into the low 60s with a strong north wind (maybe 15-20 mph).  The ride basically heads southeast then west, then northeast.  I found myself riding for the very first time near Jim J.  Jim is fast, like really fast.  I have never even come close to riding near him before.  But amazingly, I found it easy to keep up for most of the way to Cannon Falls.  I met Don McCall and some others that typically would be much faster than myself.  I did a turn-and-burn in Cannon Falls and headed off to Zumbrota.  I was basically riding alone, but Jim remained a quarter mile ahead.  Imagine my complete shock to find myself riding into Zumbrota (halfway) a mere 3:45 after the start.  I felt great too.

At Zumbrota, I ran into another rider on his first 200k who had inadvertently not picked up the second half of the cue sheet.  We decided to ride together.  Even though the route was painted, it was still easy to miss the arrows sometime. 

So much for the super speed.  Now we had a big headwind.  For the next 30 or so miles, we headed up and down rollers at about 12-13 mph with our heads down against the wind; last year, that stretch was agonizing, this year, I could have gone faster, but chose to conserve myself.  We were briefly buzzed by some racers but descended into the valley and into the info control.   Here Paul O, whom I rode with last year at the Rochester 600k.  The three of us teamed up and road the rest of the day.  The climb up Soggn Hill was not hard at all and I didn't fall behind like I usually do.  In fact, going in to Cannon Falls, I accidentally pushed the pace and basically pulled the other 2 into the control.  Amazing.

The last 30 miles where still in the wind and by the time we rolled in it was about 10 minutes until 6 pm.  So a sub-10 hour 200k for me, even in the wind.  I felt fine, though starving and I wound up talking to Rob for at least 2 hours waiting and greeting other riders.  I stayed long enough to greet Renee, who I am hoping to see at future brevets.  The more girls, the better in this sport.

This ride gave me much more confidence going to Louisville.  And it turned out that I would need it.

Hills of Wisconsin

After getting through a bunch of surgery and getting a cold, I decided to celebrate my illustrious birthday by being on the inaugrual ride of the Hills of Wisconsin Permanent.  My friend Gary created this to provide riders far and wide with about 7,000 ft of climbing in a 200k.  With a temporary detour due to road construction, he managed to exceed the goal and get up to about 7,600 ft.

We had a really nice forecast for the day that turned out to be a little spotty.  It started much colder than originally thought, in the low 20s at 8:00 am.  Temperatures eventually made it into the high 40's but with a gradually accelerating wind from the east, it never got to what I would call "warm".  Add to the fact that I still have issues turning my head to the left and the cold and I warned everyone to leave me in the dust as I would doubtless be the Lantern Rouge on this ride.  At least it was sunny for most of the day.

The start is in New Richmond, WI, about an hour from my house.  I managed to keep up with the others for all of about 10 minutes, except for Gary who kindly stayed with me.  The route goes east from New Richmond on rolling terrain, very nice.  5 minutes from the start were a herd of deer standing in the fast-melting snow.  I'm sure it says something that with a nice remote route, we only saw deer in the middle of town.  Maybe they were planning on shopping at WalMart.

Had some very interesting discussions on the way to the first control, Knapp, about China and the Three Gorges Dam.  Gary visited the area before the dam went in, which gives him a more unique perspective on the area.  This might have slowed us somewhat.  However, we rolled into Glenwood City easily enough.  There is an old train depot turned into a barber shop on the corner (unusually shaped buildings are an interest to me and as many times as I had been through that town, I'd never noticed it).  At this point, we took the detour to Knapp.  The actual route will take CRQ on some very gentle hills that are very scenic.  The detour takes a very hilly route near the Glen Hills County Park.  While sort of scenic, these are the kind of hills that grate on you after awhile and as we descended down to rejoin the original route, I breathed a sigh of relief.  One point of interest: at the top of the big hill, someone has constructed their cabin on top of a silo.  A very interesting choice that I am sure affords fabulous views and looks pretty cool too.

There is a screaming descent at this point that I was careful on due to large amounts of sand leftover from the winter.  We rejoined the original route just outside Knapp and as we rode by Cty Q we could see the other 4 riders ascending the big hill.  We must have been about 15 minutes behind them.

At the control, Gary had a flat, probably due to the road debris.  Being the first flat of the year, it always takes longer to change.  After destroying one tube, we hauled it inside the BP station (and some warmth) for a second shot.  Sure enough - success!  Then taking the pump off, we snapped the stem.  Fortunately, it seemed to be holding and it lasted the rest of the day. 

The climb out of Knapp on Cty Q is one of those "beat me hard and then soft" hills.  Extremely steep (maybe 15-18%) for about 1/2 mile, then shallower but still hard for another 1/2 mile.  I was happy to have it behind me, but less happy when I realized we actually do the hill twice on the route.  In any case, the nice rollers and countryside on top were worth the work and we made nice time to Elmwood with some nice climbs and descents.  Unfortunately, the pheasents were sleeping in near the turn onto P, but it was starting to get warmer and that always improves the mood.  At Elmwood, I had some V8 and Chocolate milk.  Gary had some kind of mexican thing that had at least 200 ingredients.  We marveled at how the packaging must have needed to expand to hold all of them.  Due to the very hilly nature of this route, the middle controls are spaced only about 15-18 miles apart.  This has some advantages on staying hydrated and on the ability to snack frequently without carrying a ton.

Out of Elmwood, we headed east again on a rolling, but relatively flat highway road for about 8 miles.  I admit to shamelessly hanging on Gary's wheel, but in my defense, I found it almost impossible to check traffic behind me (pesky lack of skin) so pulling ahead might have been a little dangerous.  How's that for rationalization?  We turned north onto CRK and back into the hills towards Menomonie.

K has two kicker hills on it that range from 15-19%.  Even with my cassette, I wasn't exactly tearing up pavement on these, but there are some nice views at the top which is always the reward for climbing.  The rest of the way to Menomonie was a highlight of the route especially the stop at Devil's Punch Bowl and the views of the river (I think it is the Chippewa).  Really something to see especially this time of year.  Devil's Punch Bowl is somewhat fenced off, but is very interesting from a geologic perspective.  I will have to look up it's origin and re-visit in the spring when I can explore more easily.

We stopped for a little longer in Menomonie.  Gary shed some clothes and I reapplied my sunscreen (which I am now religious about).  The next trip to Knapp was only a few miles away.  We had a great roll with a tailwind out of Menomonie on Hwy 19.  After all the hills and a headwind for most of the day, it was fun to suddenly be rolling easily at 18-20 mph.  We turned onto 280th St for the last 5 miles to Knapp.  This section is on a very quiet road and has what in my mind is one of the best, most scenic climbs in the area.  At about 8%, it works well for tempo and winds its way around several hills so you can always look down into the ravine below or see the path you have been taking.  I was sad to see it end.

After a speedy trip downhill into Knapp, we refueled and took the dreaded route back up Q and the hill from the morning.  After 80 miles, it seemed even more imposing.  Gary pulled far ahead of me; I'm not a very fast climber yet since I am still rebuilding my right hamstring.  I caught up to him at the next intersection onto 90th streeet.  At that point, we were done with the big hills and descended down to CRN. 

N is a really fun road to ride on.  It starts with about a 2 mile climb through the woods crossing the border between Dunn and St Croix Counties.  Then it heads due west all the way to Hudson (on the St Croix River).  Going west is for the most part downhill and Gary was nice enough to have arrange a lovely tail wind.  We flew along this section (about 30 miles).  There are some beautiful old churches, cemetaries and a horse showing area as points of interest.  The 1-2% grade downhill made it easy to enjoy the scenery as well. 

It was about 6:00 when we pulled into the Hudson control and I had some chocolate milk.  Our stop was brief though and we did the last 14 miles of rolling terrain fairly quickly arriving at the WalMart around 10 til 7.  The last 14 miles on CR-A passes through 2 towns of interest: Burkhardt which has an old style saloon that I really think looks fun and Irvington which has an odd collection of buildings in various states of repair.  One house might look very nice while the one next door looks like a tornado has been through the front yard.  Odd, but very interesting nonetheless.

It's always a pleasure to ride with Gary.  He has been in the area for all his life and so he knows all the nifty little details that show off the character of the various towns and places.  I had originally thought that 12 hours was the fastest I would ever get done with this route in my current state, but I am sure that riding with him is what brought us in slightly under 11 hours.

Looking forward to more rides in April as the seasons change and the randonneuring season starts in earnest.  This ride was the day before the vernal equinox.  It seems appropriate since the first winter permanent was the day before the winter solstice.  Not planned, but appropriate somehow.

The Titanic 400k - A Survivors Account

This ride is cursed. We should name it the Titanic 400k. The day before the brevet, Lonnie Epic Wolff wrote from Utah: "How do you do it?" he asked, meaning, how do I always manage to schedule the Arivaca brevet during a perfect storm of sand, wind, rain, and snow. I obviously have a talent for it; if only it were useful.

Here are the stats: 25 finishers, 13 Did Not Finish, and 7 Did Not Start.
-Susan Plonsky, RBA Arizona Randonneurs - Feb 27, 2011

I am starting this entry saying that I was in the 25 people who made it through this ride.  There are rides and there are RIDES,  this was one was a RIDE.  I should also add that at least one person did nearly die of hypothermia.  He was found by two others on the side of the road with a body temp of 93 degrees and a blood sugar of 40 - it landed him in the hospital after a 911 call.  As a person who has ridden in some really epic situations (like 200ks in the single digits), I will be the first to congratulate everyone who came to this ride and either finished or didn't finish.  The skill and determination needed to do this kind of thing is something to appreciate, especially in these kind of conditions.  They don't give medals for those that don't finish, but all 38 starters sure deserve something special.  

This was a ride that defined camaraderie in the best sense of the word for me.  I was diagnosed with cancer about 3 weeks ago and though it isn't as bad as it could be, I was scheduled for surgery 2 days after this ride.  Normally, I psyche myself pretty well for a 400k - it's my very favorite distance.  This time, I had so much time in doctor's offices that I only had time for one training ride in the entire month.  4 days before the start, the forecast turned bad, then worse.  I saw on Susan's directions that she would provide drop sacks at 200k.  I started dumping my heavy duty winter gear in.

My dad, the man who took me out in a canoe on the Atlantic ocean when I was about 7 during a thunderstorm, tried to convince me that the weather too bad to go.  I had to admit that it was going to be a battle, but I really felt like I had come to ride and if I couldn't get to the finish, I could at least get to the start.  Kathy came to Casa Grande with the express purpose of lifting me if either my asthma or something else gave out.  I made emergency last minute preparations like a dust mask.

Mike Sturgill was doing the support at Arivaca and was at the sign in.  One of the nicest and most supportive riders I know, he really helped a ton of people.  I've done ride support for riders and I hope I did a tenth as good a job.  He had done the pre-ride and noted that it was 46 degrees at the start, far warmer than the pre-ride.  There was a fairly strong 15 mph headwind blowing even at 5:00am, a harbinger of the day ahead.  Susan Plonsky made some last minute comments including one about hearing that people had been moaning and puking at the last control on last month's 300k, "Let's have none of that this time," was her remark, said with a great deal of humor.  We were off.

The wind was in our faces at the start and I got into a huge, highly disorganized paceline.  We made it about 20 miles when I realized that I was working way too hard for this early.  I dropped off the end feeling my lungs burn and nearly stopped the ride right there (I have asthma); that probably saved my ride.  A guy on the back looked backwards and dropped off as well.  His name was Dave and I had actually run into him leaving the hotel an hour earlier.  We chatted and had a few things in common.  I warned him that riding with me might be a bad idea, I had overextended myself and needed to re-coup as well as getting my head into the game.  His response was that he'd done the ride before, his wife was from Minnesota, and he was a volunteer at his church - it just didn't sit with him to leave me alone on the road.  He even said a little prayer for me on as the sun came up around Picacho, hoping I would make the correct decisions that day.  Small words, they made a huge deal later on.

We rolled into Marana at 8:15 fighting notorious pavement and a pretty stiff wind.  Mike was there signing cards and I grabbed a big chocolate milk.  We didn't dally and others were there including the Picnic Parade (as I call them). 6 friends who ride together, they had gotten to the start late, but I was glad to see they made it.  They are always fun to have around.  I was still in a mental fog and Dave and I pulled out into a brief stretch of tailwind (like 1 mile), before turning onto Sanders Road.

The next few miles are uphill into Saguaro National Park.  This park is always a pleasure to ride in.  This day was overcast and with the wind, I still hadn't shed any clothes.  We got to the climb at Mile Wide Road sometime after 9 and waved to Mike, who was headed for Arivaca in the support truck.  Mile Wide is a shallow climb with steep rollers at the end.  The cactus were really beautiful and we stopped to finally drop jackets (even though I kept the tights on).  Near the top, a screw fell out of Dave's shoe and we went back to look for it.  I grabbed a candy bar while Dave fixed the problem and 2 other riders showed up.  These were Margaret and Bob from New Mexico; I had seen their names many times, but never had the pleasure.  They stopped to make sure we were okay.  They were taking it slow but pacing well.  We found out that there were some others behind us, which surprised me a little.  I had thought we were last.

The next few miles through the park were lots of fun.  At this point, around 60 miles, it's close to Tucson, but on the other side of some mountains.  We sailed into the Circle K seeing bikes there and stopped.  The Picnickers were picnicking out front and waved hello.  I got a Turkey sandwich, a Thirst Buster Powerade and a candy bar.  Dave and I sat down and ate - by this time it was around 11:00 and we were hungry.  The sky was still gray and the wind appeared to be picking up.  I was a little cold, but warmed up on the bike.  The Picnickers passed us just as we got to Mission Road.  They do a great job at pacelining, I rode with them for the last 25 miles in the 300k and it's seldom that you see randos do such a great job with that style.

Mission Road is 27 miles long and winds south out of Tuscon to Green Valley through a heavily mined area.  95% of it is false flat and uphill.  The wind accelerated (by this time it was after noon) and dust became a bit of a problem.  I put my mask on at this point.  Half of Mission was apparently re-paved since last year and that's a good thing because this stretch was a killer.  20 mph winds gusting in my face to the point that I could barely keep the bike up.  I started looking forward to the steeper rollers; at least the hill blocked the wind a little. Dave and I had to stop a couple times just to eat something and get tiny rests.  Dust poured off huge open mines and I was really glad to not be coughing - the mask works.  Making a 10 mph pace was really hard.

After what seemed like an eternity, we finally crested on last hill and the road gave us a little break, the good pavement had ended, but it wasn't quite so horrible and we stopped again to eat.  Lesson: if it is very windy, don't eat on the bike lest you be blown over.  We sailed down the big hill into Green Valley with another brief tail-cross wind.  The descent was a just a little scary with a gusting 30 mph wind and when we turned south onto Camino Del Sol, the wind smacked us in the face like a hammer.  The last 3 miles to the control were so bad, Dave thought we might need to stop for another rest, but we made it.

Phil, who I met at the 300k, was at the control with the Picnickers.  I did a little dance of joy on arrival.  Margaret and Bob were there as well.  The Shell Station has a little cafe attached that was closed, but the owner re-opened to feed us.  I remember a lot of eating on this ride.  I had a bunch of milk, another candy bar, a can of Campbell's soup and a banana for lunch.  Dave wanted a sandwich and looked really tired, but told me to go ahead with Margaret and Bob if I could.  I didn't want to leave him, but I remembered his words earlier in the day.  The Picnickers were still there and Tammy pulled in as well so I knew he would not be alone.

Margaret, Bob and I left the control at about 1:45 with about 30 miles to Arivaca.  The wind howled in our faces down the frontage road on I-10.  Both of them are really nice.  They are members of the Bullshifters, what better name for a bike club.  They also sing polka music.  It was kind of heart warming.  As we turned onto Arivaca road with 21 miles to go, the Picnickers and Dave showed up.  We all rode together for a couple miles, but their pace was too fast for me in digestion mode and I dropped back to ride with Dave.  Margaret and Bob pulled ahead as well, but remained in sight.

About 10 minutes later, Dave pulled over to make Gatorade.  The wind was not friendly and I was finally catching a stride so I didn't stop, but said I would ride a little slower until he caught up.  I have really mixed feelings about this moment.  He had stopped for me, but I did remember his words in the morning hoping that I would make the right decisions to finish the ride.  So I continued.

I had been warned that the area around Arivaca can be dangerous to be alone on so I tried to keep Margaret and Bob in sight.  I wanted to catch up but it was a little like Tantalus, as soon as they seemed close, they would disappear behind a roller and be gone, then appear again.  The area around Arivaca has the most actual climbing on the ride and with the big wind, it was no walk in the park.  I finally caught up just as the sun went down, which was gorgeous, after they stopped to put coats on.  I put mine on too.  I was glad to be with others in the dark.  Margaret had done the ride 3 times previously "this is the hardest it has ever been", she said.

We rolled into the control at about 6:40pm, 40 minutes before it closed after picking up Phil, who was lost.  The Picnickers were still there with Mike and I grabbed my drop sack.  At this point, I saved my own ride by putting on my heaviest winter tights and grabbing all the rain gear.  Mike remarked that all the clouds had disappeared and it might be a nice night.  We spent about an hour getting bikes ready and eating as much as we could.  It is 45 miles to the next water stop and the area is dangerous with border patrols and illegals creeping around in the dark.  Dave pulled into the control 1 minute before it closed and we all cheered.  But he shook his head, he had already called his son to come get him.  We tried to talk him into coming, but he was pretty beat.  I will always wonder what would have happened if I had stayed with him.  I hope I made the best decision for both of us.  I pondered that as I pulled out of the control with the Picnickers and Phil.

The 8 of us were together for the next 50 miles to Three Corners.  The first 11 miles are full of rollers and potholes.  But for the first time all day, we had a sustained tailwind!  This caused us to ride way to fast for awhile.  I nearly went down on a pothole - thank goodness for Armadillo tires that are very pinch flat resistant.  I did lose a bottle and had to go back.  We turned onto AZ 287 with a full tailwind at 30 mph going downhill.  It was a circus.  I was in the lead with Mike and we easily cruised at about 22-25 mph.  After the grueling day, I was shocked at what a great rider I am with a tailwind going downhill!  We double pacelined with the 2 of us in the front for about 20 miles.  It was absolutely crazy.

We passed the border checkpoint and waved; they must think we are nuts.   We pulled into Three Corners at around 10:15 pm and Dave and Mike were there in the truck as a secret control of sorts.  This is the only water for another 20 miles and it was now closed.  Irene and Dan were just leaving and one other guy was quitting and jumping in the truck.  We refilled water bottles.  The wind was so strong that it was hard to stand up.  I wanted to continue, but everyone was exhausted so we made a 20 minute stop huddled next to the gas station to stay away from the gale force wind.

At this point, I called Kathy on the phone to let her know we were 75 miles from the finish and that I was okay.  On a last thought, I had her pull the weather report.  Rain and high winds at Marana, was the response.  Gulp, I pulled out all my rain gear (being from Minnesota, we ride in lots of hard, cold rain) and put it on.  This includes an attachable hood and booties for my feet.   Margaret and Bob pulled up as I was starting to get cold and I went ahead with them.  The 3 of us would be together for the next 60 miles.

We kept the tailwind all the way to Marana and I had a delightful time talking with them.  The stars were magnificent as we blasted back through Saguaro National Park.  This was a high point of the ride for me.  I was feeling pretty good, though the time change was starting to wear a little.  An amazing 30 miles.

The three of us pulled into the Circle K in Marana, 45 miles from the end at 12:45 am.  With a tail wind all the way back, I figured a 4:00 am finish was in the picture.  We stopped and ate, again, and said hi to Irene and Dan who pulled out about 10 minutes later.  The Picnickers showed up a little later; they had been stopped by the police who had questions...  Margaret, Bob and I pulled out shortly afterwards as Phil pulled in.  The stars were still beautiful as we rode underneath I-10.  Not a drop of rain in sight.

About 2 miles later, I felt a drop.  Being from New Mexico, Margaret and Bob don't use rain apparel much.  But we stopped so that they could put it on.  Good thing, because within about 3 minutes, the favorable wind turned to the north to become a fierce headwind and driving cold rain started.  The temperature dropped from the 50s to the 30s.  I am pretty sure at some point there might have been hail but my face went numb so it was hard to tell.  The three of us drove through the rain at about 10 mph past Picacho (which we couldn't see) and on the Eloy.  There, in Eloy, was salvation in the form of a 24 hour Circle K.  Though I didn't really want to stop, I had cold hands and Margaret was looking like she had the shivers.  Bad news.  They asked for my rain advice and I gladly gave it.

"Look, more drowned rats" was the response from the cashier at the Circle K.  She had just made more coffee.  I immediately stripped off my jacket, wind vest, gloves, and rain hood to let them start drying.   Bob found some new gloves (gardening) for sale which we bought and wrapped with plastic bags.  2 of the 6 Picnickers showed up shortly afterwards having gone ahead.  We used every trick I could think of to warm: socks dried in the microwave (yes it works if they are wool), plastic bags, etc.  Hats off to Margaret and Bob who both had some extra clothing that was dry to put on; my rain gear was doing a fabulous job - three cheers for Showers Pass - so I settled for just hot chocolate and new gloves.  I attempted to amuse by telling my worst weather tale of woe: I was stuck trying to warm myself a few years back in a strip club and finished with my clothing stuffed with porn magazines.  At least we all laughed.  The rest of the Picnickers showed up and I heavily tipped the cashier.  She even let us bring the bikes in.

I wrapped a garbage bag under my rain gear and suited up in gardening gloves.  It was about 5:00am and I was ready to go.   I took off with 3 of the Picnickers, not wanting to get too warm.  Everyone else followed.  We powered along the last 14 miles in paceline taking very quick turns on front.  About 5 miles from the end, someone said "look over your shoulder".  I did, it was the second sunrise I had seen on the ride.  The clouds were breaking and there was a big line in the sky.  The rain had stopped and the winds seemed to get just a little lighter.  I realized, for the first time, that I might make it to the finish.

The 4 of us pulled in to the Round Trip Bike Shop at about 6:10am.  One of the Picnickers had called ahead and a friend (someones wife) was there with hot lentil soup and all kinds of food.  We congratulated each other.  At least some of them are going to PBP.   If I make it, at least I will know that I have friends in the crowd.

I still had a mile or so to ride to the hotel, so I said my goodbyes.  Besides, I had been awake for way too long.  I would have liked to have stayed and thanked everyone personally, but this blog entry will have to do.

There were many strong riders that did not finish this ride.  I can only say that my finish was a group effort; I hope that I at least helped everyone else in return.  There was never a time that I heard anyone complain or be wishing to be somewhere else.  That kind of camaraderie is the kind of thing you only really see on rides like this one, where offering a hand or taking the wind or just talking keeps someone on the bike at a critical moment.  It's something to see.  I wouldn't change a thing (except have Dave finish too).  My thanks to all who rode this epic tale.  I will definitely see you again.

Criteria for Evaluating the Safety of a Road/Route for Bicycling Long Distance in the Winter

Recent events have had me researching and there really isn't much out there on picking a good winter route or knowing when to ride.  After many years of winter cycling and some very close shaves, I thought this might help fill a needed gap.

None of these recommendations are based on non-continuous conditions; when I say, avoid roads that are narrowed or full of snow, it means the majority of the distance traveled on the road, not for intermittent problems.  A block of some bad thing is one thing, riding with it for miles is something else.

I've ridden 200ks in some horrendous conditions.  That doesn't make me brave, it makes me stupid.  I write these so that less people will be in the stupid club with me. 

1. Road Conditions

This is the number one issue hands down.  Some roads are just better than others in the winter. If your area has heavy snow, then there is a tendency for roads to narrow as the winter goes on because snow piles start to creep onto the street and shoulders disappear under layers of ice, grime and snow.  Hardpack snow, ice and grime can also either cover potholes, cracks and other defects or make it very difficult to do emergency avoidance.  When deciding where to ride, pick roads that are well-maintained, newer and have good drainage.  Though it might seem like small, rural roads would be idea because of less traffic that can be a bad assumption if they are not maintained or are not plowed to the pavement frequently.  Roads that are not plowed to the pavement should be avoided and it is vital to be able to know where the yellow line is.  Beware of the phenomena called wheel-track icing.  Small amounts of snow are melted by the relative "heat" and friction of cars passing over causing layers of super-slick ice to form.  If you fall in the middle of the road in traffic, odds are very high you may get hit by a passing car.  Another hazard to using ruts or marks is that snowmobilers frequently leave mock trail on the sides of the roads - riding on a snow mobile trail may be dangerous in loose snow or if you don't have really fat tires (like 3-4").

Always prefer roads that plow the shoulder and keep it clean, if you can't get over, then traffic becomes a big problem.  Even if the shoulder cannot be ridden, it is vital that it be obvious where both it is and where the edge of the road is.  Rural areas frequently have blowing snow that will fill ditches and spread over the road shoulder like a blanket making it impossible to say where the road ends and the ditch begins.  Even if there is really light traffic, these roads are extremely dangerous because you cannot confidently move over to allow traffic to pass.  This doesn't mean that you have to see the edge all the time, if say, 20 ft was obscured but it was evident enough to estimate, thing are fine.  If there are long stretches of road with obscured edges, the road is simply not safe for cycling.   Again estimating from tire ruts is not a good alternative since those are guesses made by local motorists, if you have to exit the rut to allow a car to pass, you can have a severe accident.  The same goes for roads that have so much snow that you cannot see either the white or yellow lines within your field of vision for more than a couple of minutes.

Roads deteriorate during the month of January due to the gradual build up of road grime and snow and deep cold.  December riding is much easier since snow will be relatively fresh and there will be less on the side of the road. Get experience riding on roads in December if you intend to try January.  Also, find some way to ride in snow before trying a long route.  Try out your setup on an unploughed side street or a lesser maintained bike trail so that you really have a feel for winter handling. 

2.  Snow and visibility

Night riding in the snow may be one of the most dangerous activities a cyclist can engage in.  If any part of a route is to be during evening hours on a road, really good lights, reflective gear on moving body parts (like calves or feet) are a must. Rear LED blinkers suitable in summer are probably inadequate for winter riding if light snow is present.  Experiment by walking away from your bike a night on a dark sidewalk during various condition; you always want at least a quarter  mile of visibility for your rear light in any conditions you intend to ride in. 

On the subject of snow, it's dangerous even in tiny amounts.  If even light snow if falling or blowing at night, avoid riding period or ride on a dedicated bike trail or side streets to avoid traffic.   Cars may need to cross through piles of snow in the middle of the street to pass you increasing the chances of a spinout.  Needless to say, anything that increase the chances of a car accident will increase the caution that must be taken if cars are present.

Hardpack snow on the road will magnify the amount of effort it takes to pedal.  A headwind that causes little issue in summer can become a real trial if you are on snow.  A 10 mph wind will feel like a 15-20 mph wind on snowy or slippery pavement.  Descents can become treacherous on hardpack as well so be prepared to ride about 30% slower than usual on hardpack.

3.  Traffic

Cars on roads in the winter have many more challenges than in the summer or spring.  The number of cars in the ditch after an inch of powder is a good example.  One might interpret from this that the best roads would be low traffic country roads.  From a traffic perspective that is true.  However, that can come into conflict with some of the other requirements, so perhaps a better piece of advice is that roads that have decent passing options for cars are preferable. This means favoring moderately used boulevards with lower speed limits and multiple lanes per direction.  In urban areas, this can include roads that are extra wide to provide parking options so long as the ride gets timed to coincide with times when cars tend not to be parked.  Many city streets are like this because people go to work in the day, leaving the residential street empty.

4.  Alternate routes and plans
If you are planning a long ride, it is very wise to find as many alternate routes as possible so that if a road is unsafe, you can find another.  This may mean advanced planning or bringing some kind of map or GPS.  Scout out the route ahead of time, if possible, and identify places that are likely to become troublesome and get an alternate plan if things go south. 

Example, on a recent winter 200k, I was forced to ride in a wheel rut on CR8 into Lakeville in heavy traffic.  CR8 is a 2 lane road with a 45 mph speed limit, no shoulder, and cars could not pass safely (and every time they did, there was a real possibility of an accident).  I had scouted an alternate route which would have avoided much of 8, but I hadn't scouted it and when the time came I wasn't comfortable enough to take it and didn't have directions or a map available.  I will next time.

Try to make your routes go through areas with houses or options if there is a problem such as a crash or a mechanical issue like a flat or a frozen hub.  Hypothermia can set if very quickly if you are forced to stop in a remote area for very long.  It may be important to get to warmth quickly.  Always carry a cell phone that is fully charged and keep it warm so that the batteries don't die (cold air can really cut down on battery life).

Change a tire out in the cold while wearing gloves at least once before trying a rural route.  Sure studs and fat tires resist flats, but there is also much less chance you will see a pile of glass or metal before riding over it.

5.  Weather
Winters in Minnesota are incredibly unpredictable.  What starts out as a pleasant ride in morning can become really horrible within hours.  A 200k will likely come down to the wire in terms of brevet speed if you are trying to do a permanent.  Pay very close attention to the weather report and consult multiple sources including the National Weather Service.  Assume that the WORST report you read will be what you get and then double it.  Even one inch of powdery snow can make roads insanely slippery if the temps are in the teens.  Don't ride if the wind is supposed to be strong in any direction (not even a tailwind).  If road conditions are bad, it will magnify the effects of a headwind since tires don't spin well on hardpack, soft snow or ice.  Blowing is a real problem in south central Minnesota in farm country.  A big snow dune can form quickly if the wind picks up even to 10 mph and there has been recent powder falling (personal experience on this one).  Those dunes will force either evasive maneuvers or plowing through something when you don't know what is there.  In the summer, safety experts recommend not riding through puddles since they could be hiding a pothole, the same is true for a pile of snow.  Ice chunks, car parts (really), frozen garbage, can all be lurking ready to throw you off the bike.

5.  Know when to throw in the towel (or leave the towel on the rack)
 Always be prepared to end the ride immediately if conditions deteriorate or forget the control times and spend time completely drying out and forget the control times. In the Arrowhead 135, shelters are spaced only about 10 miles apart for most of the ride.  Choose a route that offers options about this often (even if they aren't controls) and call someone to come get you if road conditions become unsafe.

Riding in the winter is both fun and rewarding, don't let personal goals or awards or bragging rights compromise your safety; it is vital to be very flexible in long distance winter riding and not fix yourself to either dates or ranges of dates.  I speak of the RUSA R-12 award, which is best done by doing a couple of nice trips south during the winter; don't let the goal of doing a 200k every month seduce you into trying a ride in inappropriate conditions.  RUSA also offers awards for accumulating year-long kilometers every 1000 km up to 5000km.  Pick one of them to motivate yourself.  How about doing 2 Super Randonneur Series in one year instead of only 1?  Or work for the Ultra Randonneur (10 SRs in some number of years).  Or the new "You Betcha" award that the Minnesota RBA is talking about (3,200km in Minnesota in one year).

Snow, snow, snow

Back in October I really thought that the season was over with the last brevet.  A nice October day and a fine ride to put a bookend on the season.

But that just isn't how it worked out.  This fall was the fall for permanents.  Now that I own my own permanent which practically leave from my doorstep, I had a hard time resisting the nice fall days of October.  I also had some offers from new people that I had never ridden with before.

So during October, I did 2 more 200ks and then another 200k in November.  All the same Delano-Henderson-Chaska loop.  Each one was different in its own way.  My first was the trial run by myself going counter-clockwise on the loop.  Nice ride with bizzare weather - it vascillated between very hot and very cold.  Next, I had a call from a new randonneuse who had never done a permanent.  How could I possibly say no to helping another female into this sport?  Yet another fine ride, this time clockwise on a cold morning that turned into the last day of the season you could wear shorts.  Finally, a bunch of guys called me in November about doing the same route again.  These guys are people I have known for years, but are all substantially faster than I am - thus I see them only at the starts of brevets.  This ride, we all stuck together for and we really had a good time.  The DHC permanent looks like it will be a success and I have my 300k route ready to go for next year.

Which brings us to mid-November and the end of fall as we knew it.  The Twin Cities got hit with a major snowstorm on Veterans Day and for the next 6 weeks, we got over 3 feet of the stuff with sub-zero temperatures to boot!  Hardly riding weather.  I proceeded to buy a new winter bike, one that costs so little that I could justify having it corrode over the nasty winter months.  A Kona Dew Plus on sale for $290.  But it has disk brakes which I figured would be a real plus if it were going to snow like Greenland.

I thought back to my ride on Rob's Sakatah permanent last year.  Starting in the low teens and never hitting twenty really is tough (it's the no fluids except at controls that gets you).  It also didn't help that every 3 days we would get either more snow or a cold blast that made the neighborhood snowman look cold.  But finally, near the winter solstice, a break was coming.  A day that would be in the 20s all day long.  Of course, we had a 6 inch snowstorm 2 days earlier and more on Christmas, but this was just in between.

But this time, I was not to be alone in the quest.  There were 4 other guys that decided that it just isn't right to only have one person in Minnesota willing to do 200k in the dead of winter.  Two of them I had ridden with in November, Jonas and Norman.   Gary, I also knew slightly from creating jerseys and other odds and ends.  Jeff, I had never met.

Of course, it was the 20s with major slush on the road and not much in the way of daylight (a full 8 hours).  My permanent was simply too hilly and potentially dangerous.  It's now closed.  But Rob had recently tweaked his for the winter and promised a good ride (even if he himself couldn't make it).  So back to Apple Valley for more randonneuring sponsored by Kwik Trip.

The five of us left at 8:00 am just as it got light.  It was as warm as it was going to get at a balmy 30 degrees.  We were a little worried that it would be too warm and the slush would get us wet and cold.  But indeed, luck was upon us and we had nearly the perfect weather, not much wind, stable temps and near deserted roads.

Four of Five, Norman was in charge of the camera

We had a big tailwind and we pounded our way out of Apple Valley much faster than we probably should have.  There wasn't much left from the snow storm, but one does want to keep warm.  All of us had fat, studded tires.  While affording great traction, they really do take some work to get rolling and keep rolling.  I was happy I had added fenders both for myself and the guy behind me.  Sometimes it can be difficult to have both fat tires and fenders, not a luxury everyone had on this ride.   But we all made due and it turned out to mostly not be a problem.

We paused about 15 miles in for a drink at a Shell Station.  At this point, I realized that there is a big difference between the low teens and the high 20s for sports drinks.  Nothing was freezing up at all!  So I just refilled my bottle and off we went.  The ride to Faribault was all tailwind and we got there around 10:30 with a moving average of 14.2mph!  That's really fast for riding on studs.   We ate as much as we could at the gas station and headed off with only about a 20 minute stop.  At 34 miles, Faribault is the longest segment, although the ride to Cleveland seemed longer.

The next 31 miles were on a series of country roads that Rob picked out for the winter.  There were virtually no cars and I slowed a bit as did Gary.  He's a really interesting guy, 70 some years old and still a faster rider than I am.  The others went ahead a bit, but waited on occaision.  At about mile 55, they were ahead again, when I realized that we were no longer on a paved road (very hard to tell when the road is covered in snow).  Turns out there was a turn missing on the route sheet.  The others soon came back and we got back on course.  We got into Cleveland, the halfway point at about 1:15 and took a more substantial break (almost 40 minutes) to eat pizza, soda, coffee, candy bars and all the other food that you can really only feel good about eating when you are burning thousands of calories.  The BP station had a little eating area and we chatted for awhile.  I loaned my multi-tool to Jeff, who had cleat issues.

We pulled out of Cleveland at about 2:00pm bound for Lonsdale.  This section included a bit of headwind as we swung north for the first time.  I fell behind a bit having burned a bit too hard early in the ride and being deep in the throngs of digestion.  We got in a line and I pulled as much as I could.  The day was a grey one and this was a nice stretch with no cars.   About 4:00pm we pulled into Montgomery and I was desparate for the bathroom.   Another problem with winter riding and females - you just can't pull up a tree whenever you need one.  I left a bit ahead of the others as I was huffing a little.  They easily caught up just outside town.  Lonsdale was a quick 10 miles and it was here that I made my 2 major mistakes of the ride.   First, I should have used my inhaler (exercise-induced asthma go figure).  My second mistake was arguably not mine.  Norman is from Germany and Jonas is frome Sweden.  At the control, the clerk was so enthralled with Norman and his accent that she didn't hear me when I asked for a receipt.  At the time, I was both wondering about my lungs and having a major inward laugh and the epic flirtation going on.  We finally left at about 5:15, now in the dark and I got two blocks before realizing I had no receipt and having to go back.  I offered to catch up, but the guys waited patiently.  The clerk offered me the most recent receipt off the register, but it was for 6 cartons of cigarettes.  Now really, who is going to believe that I bought 6 cartons of cigarettes at a brevet control!  I settled for an emergency mint purchase and raced back to the others.

The final 28 miles were mostly pleasent with the exception of CR8, again my least favorite road on this permanent.  A busier road with a small snowy shoulder and a very large buzz strip just makes for treachery.  My lungs started burning as well and I wondered if I was going to have issues when we finished and I came in out of the cold.  I finally stopped and dug out my inhaler on the road.  Not a good time, but it helped enough to get me back.

At the turn onto Ipava, Jeff made a light feet in front of the rest of us and kept going.  Unfortunately, he missed our group photo with Christmas lights.

Wow Gary has awsome reflective stuff.  Note, my helmet is white because of illuminite

I like our group photo.  It shows the massive depth of the snow (the banks are much taller than the bikes are).  I especially like the big crown on Norman's head.  The red glow on the snow is from my rear light (it's visible from orbit).

We got into the Kwik Trip at about 8:30 pm.  12 mph as a moving average, which is considerably faster than I went last year.  We stopped more frequently and for much longer periods, but I would not have done it differently.  The winter is just not the time for breaking speed records.

There is some talk about another permanent in January.  Not sure about that, my asthma has been kicking up like crazy ever since.  Nonetheless, I will likely talk to my doctor about getting something stronger.  This was a fun enough ride to justify the lung stuff.

Happy New Year

End of The Season: Apple Valley 200k

Each of the past 2 years, the last brevet of the season in Minnesota is a 200k in the first week of October.  Last year, it was in Rochester and the temperatures never got out of the 40s, it poured rain almost the entire day.  I did that ride with a newbie randonneur, Ken, who went on to do his first 600k this year.  125 miles in the freezing, pouring rain is good mental prep.

Thankfully, this year's ride, this time in Apple Valley, was not during a rain storm.  The rainstorm came the week before in the form of the biggest September rainfall ever.  Flooding was a real concern for this ride, but turned out not to be an issue.  I will say that the views of the Cannon and Zumbro River were something.  This year, the temperature was in the high 40s to start and at least made it into the 50s for the day.  The sun made occaisional to frequent appearences as well.  I had been expecting fabulous fall colors, but those hopes proved futile.  It appears the big rainstorm had stripped many of the trees so it seemed much greyer than I expected.  But there were some bright spots as well.

The ride started off at 8:00am in the traditional Apple Valley start.  35 riders showed up for this ride which was an all-time record.  Apple Valley rides, especially the shorter ones, draw from the TCBC pool of those who are there to enjoy the ride, but are not necessarily RUSA members.  Rob calls them the happy randonneurs - they cruise the countryside unconcerned about controls or time limits.  Really rather refreshing.

The first leg to Cannon Falls was one I have now done about 4 times this year.  As we headed down 160th, a large group of the fast riders passed me.  I'm still a little anemic so I let them pass figuring I would be dead last by plan.  Besides, with 35 people crowded into the control at Cannon Falls, why rush?  I finally managed to pull my camera and take a picture of the 3 foot Aquaman statue - I'd been meaning to do that for ages.  

Aquaman and his friend the Viking

There was a slight tailwind and even not working hard, I managed to get to Cannon Falls just before 10:00am.  I stopped to take pictures of the 2 trumpeter swans that have been living just off the Cannon River.  They will probably start migrating soon.  There were several beautiful red-gold maples in Cannon Falls too.  This was some of the nicer fall colors on the route.

Swans in Cannon Falls - note raging river in the background

At the control, a gas station, I made a point to get through quickly.  Hardly anyone was there, just 2 or 3 bikes.  I grabbed some tomato juice, refilled bottles, and took off in just under 10 minutes.  The next section supposedly had a section of difficult rollers that Rob warned about at the start.  I took this to heart expecting something like the area west of Madison; turned out to not be so bad from my perspective although I later learned that others had really felt some pain.  The ride to Zumbrota was actually very pleasent for me with rolling hills, lots of harvesting, and some occasional patches of fall colors.  I noticed that the Goodhue County Historical Society has begun posting signs marking the old farm towns that used to dot this area.  Most of those places now only contine one or two houses or farms.  But it does make one consider what it must have been like to live here 100 years ago when 10 miles was a huge distance and roads were dirt.  Those few remaining houses are always interesting to look at.  Many are restored or look as though they have been cared for by generations of the same people.

I was actually very surprised by the descent into Zumbrota when I had been expecting worse rollers.  I got to the control at noon.  Here I grabbed a V8, some cookies and a Mighty Mango drink.  There were 3 people at the control.  I talked to one of them for about 5 minutes.  He was having issues with his knee and later quit at Wanamingo.  I talked to him later at the finish, he'd had a nice riide anyways.

CR30 out of Zumbrota

Riding out of Zumbrota, I cruised briefly with  a guy named Dan from Iowa.  This was his first brevet, though he and his buddy had ridden across Iowa in 24 hours (prettty cool).  We chatted about PBP briefly and he finally pulled ahead to rejoin his friend.  Their pace was slightly faster than I wanted at that point.  I knew that shortly we would be turning north on CR14 directly into the wind and I wanted to save my energy.  The route along CR30 outside Wanamingo first goes along a very pretty river and they gradually climbs on rollers to give some really nice views of the rolling countryside.  The turn came faster than I expected since the strong northeast wind was almost a tailwind.

The turn into the wind was a slap in the face.  The next couple miles, I spent in my drops (I have new handlebars that make this a much nicer experience and I appreciated them).  Finally, the road descended down a hill.  Granted, you still had to pedal due to the headwind, but at least speeds were over 11 mph.  CR14 wound around through more rollers and former towns.  A guy on a bike passed me going very quickly, not sure if he was on the brevet or just out enjoying the day.

At this point, I was nearing Soggn.  Soggn is down in a valley so there was a lovely winding descent.  The hills broke the wind and there were many more trees and several pastures with cows.  A nice change from the cornfields.  At Soggn, I patiently spun up the big hill.  1 mile at about 6%, but still not really difficult.  There was a stretch of really nice yellow trees here so it was scenic.  I passed the Soggn Valley Orchard, which apparently has been closed all year due to a hard frost last May (no apples for them).  They have hope for next year.

After the climb out of Soggn, the road turned north once again, but there were still some hills and it was a gradual downhill so the wind didn't slow me down quite so much.  I realized at this point that I had basically ridden almost 100 miles alone.  I figured there were 1 or 2 people behind me.  Hopefully, they were working together against the wind.  I passed a bunch of parked cars that were there for the Soggn Valley Art Show.

The final stretch into Cannon Falls was winding with a little wind, but quiet and scenic.  I crossed Hwy 52 and rolled into the control at 3:00pm.  There were about 6-7 bikes there with many lounging.  I wanted to finish by dinner, so I again did the super quick control routing and pulled out 8 minutes after leaving.  Everyone who was there when I arrived was a also there when I left.  I assumed that they would easily catch me.  I noticed the bikes from the Iowa riders.

Rob had a different route out of Cannon Falls than normal so I had to pay attention to where I was going.  Cty Rd 29 was a little mealy until the city limits but then improved.  The turn onto Hogan was directly into the wind across a flat section to a moraine in the distance.   The wind here was fierce but I plodded on until I crested the moraine and descended down into another section of rollers.  A recumbent passed me just before New Trier and both of us turned together onto SH 50 for a mile.  SH50 had lots of traffic and no shoulder so we both pedaled hard to get through it as quickly as possible.  He pulled ahead once we turned north onto CR85.  This section was more flat cornfields, but the shoulder was fabulous - almost 6 feet wide and not a crack in sight.  Even with the wind I was doing okay and I figured on getting in around 5:30. 

About 3 miles in, I heard a shout and then barking.  A very large, black dog was heading for me with that "your leg would look great hanging in my doghouse" look in his eyes.  Of course, this was on an ascending roller so the adrenaline kicked in and I sprinted as fast as I could screaming at the dog (and the owner).  I really did think he was going to nail me, but he veered off at the last second.  At this point, I crested the roller, completely exhausted.  I really thought that I might exhale a lung if I didn't stop, but at this point one of the Iowa riders caught up to me.  He'd been chased by a second dog but had witnessed my sprint and offered to pull me for the last 4 miles to 160th.  What a guy!  We wound up finishing together.  The time on his wheel let me calm down from my near-death experience.  His name was Randy and this was his first brevet.  Both his friends were behind us.

The turn to 160th came pretty quickly, then the head/cross wind turned into a tail/cross wind for the last 13 miles.  We chatted about training and riding in general.  Just before Apple Valley, a train was rolling slowly across the tracks.  The recumbent and another cyclist were stopped, but the train cleared just and Randy and I approached - good timing.  The other two bikes continued ahead and finished just before we did due to a lucky break with the light at 147th.  But the two of us pulled in just around 5:30pm.  Exactly when I had expected.

We found Rob at Old Chicago and sat down for drinks and food.  To my enormous surprise, something like 19 riders were still out on the course.  I had ridden 100 miles solo thinking I was dead last.  Talk about the lonely middle.
I also found it ironic that in a field of 30 Minnesotans, I only rode with people from Iowa.  Go figure.

We stayed at Old Chicago for about an hour and a half chatting with those that followed.  IronK showed up for pizza and a beer.   It was quite the merrry party and made a fitting end to the season.