Little Randos on the Prairie

In keeping with the mystique of last year when I did a 400k 3 weeks before Paris Brest Paris, I thought it was an idea to do the same thing for the Cascades.  I would pick an easy 400k in Iowa and use it to test ride the bike configuration. etc.  I verified the easiness of the route by asking SpinBob, who had done the 300k.  "Pretty flat and easy", was the assessment.  He was going to the 400k too so this was another opportunity to ride with old friends.

So of course in the 3 days before the ride, the forecast called for hotter and hotter temperatures and higher and higher winds.  By the night before, the forecast was for 95 degrees with a 30 mph south wind starting at about 9:00 am.  No worries, the route was supposed to be mainly east west with the longest southern section first. 

So we met the night before in the trusty Super 8 Motel (national hotel chain of cheap randonneurs).  One thing about warm temps in the day is the warm temps at night.  Very comfortable.  I decided to leave my jacket in the hotel room bringing only knee and arm warmers (which I would never use).

13 riders had gathered at the Quality Inn (national hotel chain of classier randonneurs) for the 400k.  Included was another woman, although a closer examinations showed that she was built like an olympian and obviously fell into the classier and faster rando set.  Not someone I was likely to chat with on this ride.  Also at the start was a young randonneur named Scott who was on his first 400k ever.  He'd ridden with SpinBob before on the 300k and the three of us decided to do a trio for the day.  We would play Jedi Masters to the young padawan (okay, we were cheap and less classy than some other Jedi Masters, but we did both finish PBP).

So off we went at 6:00 am riding straight into the beautiful Iowa sunrise outside Ames.  As promised, this was a flat route with very gentle rolling farmland.  Maintaining a 16 mph pace was easy.

I like to say that I learn something new on every single ride I go on.  On this ride I finally and positively learned how to identify pot plants.  SpinBob is a master gardener (of a different type, but a plant is a plant and he was around in the 70s) so he pointed out the endless wacky weed lining this section of the road.  I envisioned pot dealers doing emergency dumps of the stash during traffic stops as being the reason, but no, it seems that hemp was a popular thing to grow in the 20s.  The remnants remain.  I was advised however that smoking roadside wacky weed will give you a headache.  See, I can now speak intelligently on a subject that I used to truly know nothing about.

There is a lot of prairie in Iowa.  In fact there may be more than Minnesota, but the endless prairie flowers in the ditch were really something to behold.  Purple, yellow, orange, and every other color were lurking at every dip in the road.  Corn was already knee high.  There was no wind (yet).

So we pulled into the first control at 37 miles at about 8:30 with almost all the southern route done and the wind beginning to pick up.  At the control, we ran into Dan and James, two people that I know.  In fact, when I was creating cycling software for the local bike club, James had been my first total failure to read someone's handwriting.  I had been sure that someone named Jamn Fug had joined the club.  So I joked with him about it.  "Well, it was probably after the ride, I often look like jamn fug after a brevet", was the comeback.  Ah, another Oscar Wild wit on a brevet, music to my ears.

It must have been the later heat, but I can't seem to remember hardly any of the control towns.  As we left this one, James and Dan got sidelined by an obnoxious cadillac and missed a turn.  Bummer - bonus miles for them.  More prairie and a surprising number of vistas of the green hills follwed until we turned onto the Raccoon River Trail.  At this point, the wind and the heat were increasing fast.

We ate like complete pigs at the 75 mile control.  I figured in a short time, the heat would be too great to really pig out so I downed more than usual including a hefty wrap, a Naken Protein Shake, chocoloate millk, a big cookie and V8.   Not sure where I put that except it took about 30 minutes to forget it was there.  Scott was eating less so we Jedi masters sent him back to the swamp for a sandwich.

The next 40 miles were a struggle with high winds and hills that appeared out of nowhere.  The temperatures climbed and climbed until my thermometer was up to 92 in the shade.  We cruised for about 20 miles and stopped for an ice/ice cream brake in a small town (Guthrie Center, I think).  I put ice in my lap, around my neck, in my mouth and in some other places.  I also lamented not bringing a sports bra for once (an ice chest is a beautiful thing in the heat).  This was a really refreshing stop.

Road Pixie chilling out



We left with 25 miles to the halfway point feeling much better.  This was when the heat and wind really cranked up.  James and Dan had caught up and we could see them on the giant rollers in front of us.  But we kept getting closer and closer which was strange.  My drive train started getting unpredictable and I dropped the chain, for a moment thinking it had broken.  This stretch had a head/cross wind that evaporated any sweat instantly.  I can't remember a ride
  that I never felt at all wet even though I was crusting over.  It left a nasty heat rash too, despite enough sun lotion to simulate an eclipse.  The wind was so strong it nearly blew us over and squelched any momentum going down the rollers.

At the turnaround, I tried futzing with my barrel adjusters but gave up as sitting in the sun at the gas station was like sitting on the surface of Mercury.  At this point, James and Dan caught up.  Dan looked terrible (which I didnt tell him at the time).   He had decided to DNF, the heat was just too much.  James asked to ride with us since we were the last riders.  We tried our best to make Dan feel better reminding him that all of us DNF from time to time.  But that still doesn't make it easier to watch your friends ride off without you.  SpinBob even brought up on of his own past experiences and mentioned our "Never look at your own butt during the ride" rule.  Of course, we were still in Jedi Master mode too (they don't look at their own butts either).

The next 11 miles were brutal, my chain refused to stay on in the small chainring and I finally gave in and did the rest of the big rollers in the big one.  Thank goodness for all those squats.

FINALLY, we turned north.  Now with a 30 mph tail wind, we started making time.  I had taken a calculated risk and not eaten much solid food at the 125 mile mark.  When it is that hot, I just do better on chocolate milk.  But another 40 miles was a long way.   I supplemented with salted pecans and gels.  These were fun miles and with conversation and lots of high speed descents.  We stopped at Coon Rapids for some extra water and were passed by Greg, the RBA, who had picked up Dan.  He was checking up to make sure the rest of us were okay.  Really super guy.

We pulled into Scranten at about 8 and I was just on the verge of bonking.  But the heat was finally over and I got another good meal along with lots of electrolytes.  That made me feel a ton better.  This was a long stop.  Scott got sick to his stomach and another rider, Dave, showed up who had fallen asleep in a park and was looking a little worse for the wear.
We were invited to a party by the locals (why do they always live somewhere in the opposite direction?).  I also attempted to revive my wit and be cheery by pointing out that at this point, I had the nicest ass on the road all for their staring enjoyment.

We left as the light failed all feeling much refreshed.  This was one of the best night rides I've done in some time.  Never even cool enough to change into arm or knee warmers.  The wind finally dying down a bit.  Beautiful stars and we exited the hills for the flats once more.   Lots of fun talk including the statement that when you are a man, the world is your urinal (okay, maybe you had to be there for that one).  But after a long, hot day and the inevitable caffeine hits, what else can one expect.  A bunch of drunk guys in their back yard treated us to "Hey Look, Martians!" - I've been called many things on a bike, but never a martian.  Obviously these guys did not watch Star Wars.

We had a bit of southerly road for about 15 miles and Dave dropped off for another nap (he later finished).  The wind had picked up again and this wasn't necessarily fun.  There is a fantastically lit bridge that the ride passes over near the end, it wasn't lit but was still a beautiful ride.  The last control is a bit fuzzy, I was tired and James gave me half a sandwich, I hope I get the pleasure of riding another brevet with him sometime.  I even did part of a 5 hour energy, I figured we were 2 hours from the end so I drank half  for 2 1/2 hours of energy.

The final 6 miles are a scenic tour of Ames.  In fact, it took 45 minutes to get through Ames.  Road Pixie wishes she were so darn tired and unable to see at the end.  Though it was definitely light when we got in.

The Big Finish:  Yup, we all look like jamn fug

SpinBob and I had a couple miles back to the mighty Super 8.  I wished I had stashed more food there.  A few hours sleep and it was back to Minnesota.

Next big ride is The Cascades 1200k - Road Pixie returns to the ride that clocked her hamstring.  It's payback time.

My Single Speed Fleche

This was an interesting fleche. My second in 2 years. Like all rides, it had ups and downs. However, I only got onto a team 1 week before the start. I had never ridden with 4 of my 5 team members and though I have been on a 200k perm riding with RBA Rob; riding overnight with someone is quite different. The riders on the tandem, Bob and Lisa, were new to randonneuring and were making a mileage leap from a 200k to almost a 400k (and forming the team appears to have been their idea in the first place). Dave was also making a 200 to 400k leap. Bill is a solid rider, but had his own set of "interesting" issues.

As for me, since I missed most of April, had just really gotten over the pneumonia and had just broken a rib doing something I can't even recall, and the route had 100 miles of gravel bike trails, I decided that this was just not enough challenge so I decided to do it on my single speed that I bought when I was 13 years old. I decided on a 50x18 since I had those gears and Rob assured me that there was almost no climbing on the route, in fact less than 1000'. Did I mention that all my training last week left me with a bad case of saddle sores too? They just finished healing in time, but I was still on antibiotics.

So we started from Rob's house at 6:00 pm. I had to be re-introduced to everyone since I just could not put names and faces with so many I didn't know well. The wind was screaming out of the south at 20 mph and of course the first 110 miles were pretty much south (okay some west too). The wind never subsided either, even during the night. But it was a fabulous night to ride, perfect temperature. I had an awsome run from Red Wing to Lake City.

Dave was having some kind of issue the first night, and kept dropping back (I later learned he likes to do that). Rob eventually gave him a bunch of anti-fatigue capsules. We stopped pretty much on time at our 2 hour layover in Winona on time. I was really tired and with only 2 hours, I goobled 2 bars just before we got there, tossed the bike in a conference room, whipped off my shorts and hit the bed without even taking off my reflective gear or socks. But I slept soundly for 1:40, took a lighting bath, put on a new set of shorts and inhaled breakfast in time to roll out at 2 hours. The others reported varying results, Rob got no sleep at all. Bob and Lisa slept fine, but didn't get much to eat. Dave took some more of Rob's magic stash and it was a beautiful morning.

We crossed the Winona bridge with about 10 mph wind just reving up. First issue was that Rob's route on the Great River bike trail was really rough. In fact, I would categorize it as more of a mountain biking trail, or maybe for goats. At one of the gates, Bob and Lisa (on a tandem), lost balance going around and Lisa rolled off the back of the bike, down an embankment and landed waist deep in a swamp. That has just got to be a first in my opinion. Dry clothes for exactly 40 minutes of the ride.

We then got lost due to the twisting nature of the trail and multiple intersections with bad gravel roads and other nasties. Finally, we found our way out and got on a road headed in the right direction. We were sort of pressing the schedule, but still okay. Then we came to a Y intersection (keep in mind that Rob refused to send a cue sheet to anyone on the team, all we could do was follow him). No clue which way to go. Then a car pulled up so Dave and I asked the driver which way to Trempeleau. "Easy, just go left and take a right in about a mile at the church, that's the main drag of town". Rob called back, "my GPS says we should go right". The driver said that would eventually get us there too, but that it would go through the park. She suggested that we could split up and race (hint, hint). She left and Rob insisted that we go right. Okay, the driver was right. The route through the park was pretty, but it included several miles of 12-15% grade hills. At one point, I was trying to climb by standing and gripping the bars like a barbell to force my foot down. The tandem had a hard time too. We eventually got to Trempeleau about 40 minutes behind schedule and found the trail again. By this time, the heat was starting and we had to peel layers. Rob made some comment about stripping everything off and I had to say "shorts stay on please, it's a fleche not a flash". Who else has such witty reparte after nearly blowing the quads off their legs? I am undecided whether Rob found this funny at this particular point in time.

The next 15 miles of the Great River Bike Trail was horrible to ride on. Grass was growing in the middle, it was unmaintained. At one point, I sunk into sand and thankfully avoided a major accident after recovering and then recovering again from suddenly running into the woods. I really felt for Lisa, I was on 28mm tires; she was on the back of a tandem which as you know, is where all the real bumps are. But we made it to LaCrosse finally and some food was really good. We also looked at a map since we still really didn't know exactly where we were.

The next miles were on better maintained trails and pretty much dead flat. Made the heat really something and having a 20 mph cross wind actually felt good. It was hard on the single speed to modulate speed downwards without hurting my knees so Bill and I were ahead.  The Elroy Sparta Trail is considerably nicer than the Great River but the heat was in full force and much of it was either dead flat or slightly uphill as we climbled along the old railroad bed.  For those who have not been on this trail, it has three historic railroad tunnels through the hills.  The first is 1364 ft long and we had to turn on lights to even see.  The termperature dropped like a rock down to about 55 which felt great with the heat.  But it was also dripping with water and the hand hewn floor was quite slick.  Of course, it was also full of pedestrians.

The heat and everything else really slowed Bob and Lisa, not getting enough breakfast probably didn't help. I swear, people live in fear of hills, but a long distance in the flats is no walk in the park, I'd rather do hills. By the time we got to Wilton, we were ready to eat. Of course, we didn't have much time for that and Rob was fretting that we would not finish by 6. The tandem was averaging about 10 mph; not that I was doing a whole lot better but a single speed is still a single speed.

Of course after Wilton, the terrain got easier with more long downhill sections that favored the tandem. Bob and Lisa picked up considerably and Dave had really come back too.  Really, there is nothing quite like a tandem on a downhill. Rob did a massive sprint into Elroy after we ran into another team (one of whose members kept drafting off me, Rob gave him a speech later).

At Elroy, I got confused and thought we were doing a quick stop and assumed that Rob was still ahead. So I stopped for all of two minutes and went to meet him. Oops, I sat on the trail for about 10 minutes and finally turned back. Found everyone back at the control along with Gary Bakke, who was on another fleche team (same route for about 30 miles) and was having an absolutely miserable ride. That team apparently had bad rapport, incompatible riding styles and one member had already dropped out. He had decided to quit his team and just ride by himself (I eventually talked him into rejoining them).

Bill, at this point, had mechanical problems. His tire had blown off the rim and was out of true. However, his mechanic had supposedly just trued it the previous week. We had another tire, but it was pretty clear that the rim was the problem. Then his rear brake fell apart. 10 miles from the end, he was in that "I just want be alone" state.

We had a half hour to spend at the 25k mark and that was fun. Both teams were at the same place and we talked briefly. The other team then decided to demonstrate their manliness by passing our team. Okay, maybe it was because I really felt for Gary (who is a steady rider like myself) who had been driven crazy be teammates that keep sprinting and then fatiguing and stopping, maybe it was because I was having a great ride and was unimpressed by their testosterone fury. So I completely dusted them. I recall Rob saying something later to them like "So how does it feel to be dusted by a woman on a single speed?"

At Reedsburg, the two teams went different directions into the Dells. Which I think works much better. We got to experience about 3 miles of tail wind on the way into the Dells and were the second team in with about 15 minutes to spare. Much congratulations to everyone.

The other team got lost in the last 15 miles and despite Gary having lived in the area for years and knowing the way in, the other members would not listen to his advice and spent a bunch of time continuing to be lost. They only just barely made the cutoff.

There are several morals to this story.

1. If you are at a Y intersection and you want to go south and have to guess, take the direction that goes south, especially if a local tells you its the right way as well.

2. A fleche is about teamwork, you can have many different riding styles and bikes and everyone can still have their moments to shine (tandems cannon down hills, Rob still sprints better than any of us, single speeds kind of go one speed and no other, etc), but in the end, it's all about making sure you finish with your team mates and are willing to compromise in the small ways that make that happen.

The party at the end was really fun; I got lots of kudos for having the balls to ride a single speed 240 miles in the hills of Wisconsin (my best guess is that the ride had around 8-10,000 of climbing); that was good for my confidence which needed it after the Tombstone disaster. Since I had not been able to commit until very late, the block of rooms was no longer available and everything in the Dells except the $300 suites was sold out. So we had to leave immediately and skip the breakfast. Oh well, maybe next year.

Doing the North Shore the hard way

IronK's surgery was a big success and after 6 days of complete agony in the hospital, she came home.  Of course, the day she came home, I finally gave up on the strange cough I was having and saw my doctor.  Could it be a cold?  Nope, pneumonia.  Fortunately, there were antibiotics.  But it was a good thing that mom came for the week so that she could take care of both of us.

So having finished up my antibiotics and gotten back to work, I started considering riding again.  Nothing like a DNF to really motivate you.  I had these 3 new permanents approved - all part of a 600k I have been designing for years.  I wanted to ride the middle section from Moose Lake to Two Harbors.  So I called up GearBob who did the 300k Groundhog Day Fog Festival with me.  The weather was supposed to be pretty nice, clearing and in the 50s.

First, neither of us could afford 1 minute off work.  Second, GearBob is doing a R-12 (come to think of it, I might be too) so April 29 was the day to do this if we wanted to keep that goal alive.  My lungs pretty much felt like a pile of sludge and I was still coughing, but it was supposed to be a pretty flat ride.  What could go wrong?  So we had to get to the start in Moose Lake (about 2 hours from the Twin Cities), do 230k and drive back in one day.  So we set it up for me to pick him up at 6 for a 9 am start.

That worked great.  We got to Moose Lake at about 8:30 and pulled out right on time.  The day was a grey one, one of those deceptive days that makes you overdress.  We had to stop after 2 miles to shed clothes.  I always learn a ton when I ride with GearBob, he knows more about bicycles than just about anyone I know and with my new frame on the way, there was no shortage of topics.  From Moose Lake, our route took us 37 miles up the Willard Munger State Trail, which is a beautiful trail that winds its way through the north woods to Duluth.  This area is a different climate than 2 hours to the south and the trees were only just beginning to budd out.  Many tiny flowers on the forest floor were emerging and the spagnum moss was about the greenest thing around.  Throw in tamarack swamps and giant basalt boulders and a bunch of wildlife and you get the scene a little.  Being so early, we were just about the only people on the trail.

We got to Duluth around 11:30 and headed up through Duluth to the control.  Duluth is a very old city and West Duluth may not actually have any good pavement.  But it does have cool mom and pop shops that are fun to see and it has San Francisco style hills.  We followed the route that was given to me by a local, but which I had not ridden.  As we got to the top of Superior Street, we gazed in fear at what lay ahead. 

The planned route had us going over a road suspended over the interstate with no shoulder, one way around a blind turn.  Traffic was moving at around 45 miles an hour.  Bob just stopped dead in his tracks.  No way we were going over that.  To the right was a pedestrian bridge, we took that in the name of safety. Bob recalled riding in Duluth years earlier and thought we could get around the bad section.

So we descended on the Superior Hiking Trail and found all sorts of fun stuff.  Restored trains, Canal Park, and a very nice path along Lake Superior.  We took copious notes, still looking for where we could get back to Superior Street.  Duluth sits on a hillside and is cut in half by interstate 35.  Navigating is a challenge. 

But the Lakewalk Trail was empty and we had a nice run up the shore.  Suprise!  The trail ended at the control.  We had avoided certain death and found a very scenic way to see Duluth.  This was a big win for GearBob, he's a touring nut at heart.

At the control, we grabbed a very quick bite.  There was a strong north east wind blowing and Two Harbors, the turnaround, was 24 miles away.  We enjoyed riding through Kitchi Gammi State Park and the many very nice sights on Scenic 61.  We would have enojoyed them much more if we hadnt been struggling to make 11 mph.  Bob was bonking by the time we hit Two Harbors and a prolonged chow session at Culver's Custard was long overdue.  Happily, a tailwind back was our reward.  Sunset on Superior is beautiful.

By the time we returned to the Duluth control, it was dusk and the lights went on.  The trip back to the Munger Trail was much quicker than the meandering way up and we finally got back to the trail as real darkness set it.  RBA Rob was concerned about having riders "climb" out of Duluth.  We cruised up the "hill" at about 13-14 mph and I just got over pneumonia - we decided that hill was giving it way too much credit.  Mound?  Pile?  Bump?  Those might be better terms.

The final 37 miles were some of the most awesome night riding I have ever done.  Being on a bike trail with zero traffic and barely a street crossing, we could almost ride without headlights.  Eventually we turned them on to scare the deer, who were everywhere.

Bob had some issues with his hands in Carlton and while he waited, I cooled down too much.  Coughing set in and I inhaled my inhaler.  But it was concerning; cold air has always been an asthma trigger.  Once I got moving again I was much better as my core reheated.

We finished in 12:30 and tossed the bikes in the back for the trip home.  We eventually stopped at McDonalds, but it was still past midnight when we got back to the Twin Cities.  The following day, I had to drink more than 2x more coffee than usual.  I was so happy to finish this ride; it was a big deal to finish something like this even when I wasn't at my peak.  It gives me hope for the Cascades.

Put this on my Tombstone: Don't eat meat the night before your brevet

I had really looked forward to the Tombstone.  I've been trying to ride the freakin' thing for years.  I suppose my streak was bound to continue...

I had to DNF  after 50 miles. Sure there was wind, rain, cold temperatures (hey, I could have stayed in Minnesota for those in April), but those who have read this blog know that I am way tougher than that.  My DNF fate was sealed at dinner the night before the ride. First, there was a pre-ride dinner put on by Susan R, who was running the ride in the abscence of Susan P (Susan is apparently a common name among the randonneuses of Arizona, I know 3).  I love a good pre-ride dinner, you get to meet all the people that you may or may not see on the ride.  Everyone was having steak (it was at a steakhouse) but I just could not get into the idea of a steak the night before a brevet.  So I went for a burger.

It was really very pink looking when it showed up.  Lovely hindsight says I should have sent it back, but it tasted okay; I was probably toast on the first bite anyway.  We finished up and chatted, several people were doing their first 600ks including a couple of recumbent riders.

This being Arizona of course it was freezing and raining at the start.  At least 3 people DNS'd due to lack of rain gear.  That's always sad.  They were from out of town and it's a long way to come.

I had perfect clothing and a good plan in place. I climbed up Gates Pass feeling fine and got into the first control about quarter to 8. Wasn't hungry, grabbed some chocolate milk and took off right behind another rider who I dont think saw me. I got up Mission Road and felt a little dizzy, but put it down to the winds. As I turned onto Helmet Peak Road, I started getting nauseous and halfway down I had to stop for about 5 minutes as I lost the contents of my stomach on the side
of the road. I got to the Shell station at I19 and lost it again in the bathroom, but felt marginally better. Got some Pepto and sipped some water and got Gatorade figuring I was going to have to soft pedal for a while. I ate a couple of fig newtons too thinking I probably needed to start in with calories too.

About 5 miles up Saghaurita, I lost the pepto and the water I had gotten down. I tried some Gatorade and immediately lost it. At this point, the rain started back up and Ryan, Illyssa and Mark caught up. I must have really looked bad, Ryan stayed while I called for help and suggested I coast back down the hill to the Shell Station. It took an hour of pedaling to get back to it going into the wind. I passed the 2 recumbant riders and was going to wave, but was beset with cramping
and it might have came out more like another gesture (sorry guys).

Susan R gave me directions to a hospital. IronK was trying to see caverns in a park about an our away.  I called her sounding absolutely horrible.  The response I got at first was a snippy, "it's not a good time, I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow".  I was really quite taken aback and came back with something like "gee, puking my guts out on the side of the road in the rain is not really a good time either".  Then she paused and profusely apologized.  It seems all the throwing up made me sound like my sister (who was coming down the next day and smokes).  We all got a big laugh, especially my sister who eventually heard the story and came back with "gee, if I'm ever stuck on the side of the road throwing up I know who not to call!".   Needless to say, IronK came to get me post haste and take care of me.  Classic salmonella.

Well, this pretty much crushed my confidence.  4 days later, IronK had to have lung surgery for a resurgence of cancer.  I still had high hopes of riding again in April, but then I managed to get sick while she was in the hospital.  We shall see when I ride again....

Ice Cream in March?

This weekend, Minneapolis shattered the record high of 59 degrees for 66 degrees.  With advance warning of fine weather, and the disappointment of lack of funds for $500 plane ticket to Arizona, Road Pixie and GearBob saddled up for a 200k.

This route, known in the permanent sphere as Delano-Henderson-Chaska, is about to become a 200k brevet called Cry Me A River.  I renamed it after the RBA said my route names were boring; the route has significant stretches along two of the rivers west and south of Minneapolis, the Minnesota and the Crow.  Both have some major wildlife to be found and this trip did not disappoint.

Our departure time of 7:30 am was marred by the fact that the YesMart, though finally open, is still vacillating with respect to hours.  This weeks hours started at 8 instead of 7.  Rats!  We started along the way and stopped at the first place on the route that was open, the Depot Coffee Shop.  The Depot is run as a non-profit and is located in an old train depot about a mile from the start.  Also being on the Midtown Greenway and Cedar Lake Bike Trails makes it a biking mecca of sorts.   It was already somewhat crowded.  With the forecast so good, we were not the only ones itching to be outside.

Of course, when the weather giveth, the weather also taketh away.  Our take away was a 15 mph headwind for the first 50 miles.  This sort of thing is always the sort of thing that makes me take leave of my sense and over do it during the first half hour.  It was already in the high 40s and all that excitement just came flowing out of my legs (along with the majority of the sugar in my liver).  The first 50 miles of the permanent has no controls (I don't believe in having controls to force people to stop and assess themselves, they are there to prevent shortcuts) and lots of hills.  After the fog-fest, it was nice to be able to actually see the roads too.  GearBob and I had some more interesting conversation on the subject of frame geometry and fitting.   During the previous ride, GearBob was on his trusty Surly Long Haul Trucker with many lights, a full front handlebar bag and the works.  This time, he was on a carbon fiber Look frame with almost no extra space/bags and no lights.  This meant "must finish before dark".  I did have some extra lights just in case, but I had to gulp since the Princess was full of stuff and probably weighed 35 lbs.  I must have been on crack when I packed it too, I had 3 pair of gloves for a ride with a forecast in the 60s.  I had a feeling that this ride might be really challenging - GearBob finished PBP 17 hours faster than I did ....

So it was a slog to Henderson.  I was partially bonked after about 90 minutes and started downing honey stinger gels.  Might have also been the intravenous immunotherapy I had the previous day too, but my quads wanted to cramp and when we rolled into Henderson, I think both of us were ready for it.  I was also burning up, we had had to stop twice to shed clothes on the way down.  Four and a half hours to go 50 miles total; it sort of reminded me of the Titanic 400k, only without the sleet storm at the end.  But the good news was that we had made it to south most point, for the rest of the day, the strong SW wind would be helpful.

So we chowed on a bunch of food.  I ate everything that looked even remotely good.  Looking back, that should have included bananas.  Henderson is a really neat town, it looks pretty much the same as it did in 1920.  It even has a pharmacy with a real soda fountain.  At this point, we shed more clothes and I regretted wearing knickers; I was to be hot for the rest of the day.  As we rolled out towards Green Isle, I thought how unfathomable it was to be riding in short sleeves and shorts in mid-March in Minnesota (our normal average is usually about 35 degrees).  My thermometer soared up to 70.  GearBob went into hydration mode; I continued to feel bonked but kept up.

At Green Isle, I was going to have chocolate milk, but decided to go for the outlandish and had a Klondike Ice Cream Bar. Now I have truly been in a parallel universe: short sleeves, shorts, AND ice cream in Minnesota in mid-March.  Off we went for the next 35 mile sprint to Delano.

This went very quickly with most of the really neat wildlife showing up.  First, a flock of trumpeter swans swooped past, probably in search of a pond (which were melting quickly).  Then the largest bald eagle flew alongside.  GearBob speaks eagle (in the form of an odd whistle), I wondered if the eagle was impressed; I don't speak eagle so its hard to eavesdrop.

At Delano it was about 4:00 so we had gone the second 50 miles in about 3 hours instead of 5.   Here the effects of the final big storm of the season were evident.  It was about 10 degrees colder due to melting snow (the line of the storm had stopped just south of Delano),  the streets were full of puddles and I was glad to have my skimpy fenders.  Alas, Bob's carbon fiber speed bike left him with the dreaded cold water bath.  The way back was the same as the 300k, but we could see it this time, another couple of weeks and things will be greening up.

We rolled into YesMart just as it got dark at about 6:30.  It's nice to see the YesMart back in business.  I can buy milk, energy bars and, if I so desire, a hookah, all in one place.  That's called character!

I'm almost sad to see the winter go.  This is the time of year when I get to ride with different people.  Rides are much more social and less about needing to personally challenge yourself; just showing up is challenging enough.  It will be interesting to see how many are riding this year.  So much of last year was hype for PBP, I haven't heard nearly a peep from anyone about the fleche (only 2 months off).  I suppose many may back off a bit to pay back the family for disappearing last year into the rabbit hole of training necessary for a 1200k.  Of course, I have the Cascades to look forward to in less than 4 short months; let the training commence!

Wisconsin Hills 3: Return of the Thighmaster

I love this permanent.  It's beautiful, the countryside is unique and every time we go to ride it, another road is closed for construction and forces a re-route on to some new gem.  As Gary says, "I've been working on this for over a year, one of these days, I'll get it right".

The latest forced set of changes were caused by the ever expanding construction on N, which should really rock when complete.  Without a good way to get east, Gary decided a small loop in the middle to Dunnville would solve the problem.  That of course takes out 10 miles of flats (the only ones) and replaces them with 10 miles of walls.

We have enjoyed the 4th warmest winter on record and virtually no snow.  This has made it much easier to ride all winter as opposed to last year when I seriously considered modifying training wheels into skiis for the bike.  Routes with sanded ascents and descents on feet of snow is really getting up there.  Of course, we haven't had zero snow, so that means that we have pavement that looks like a sandbox.  All climbing must be done sitting (or your rear wheel spins).

The forecast for this day was for lows in the high 20s to highs around 40.  Turns out that we rolled out around 7 at a balmy 18 degrees.  The first 30 miles or so start with steep rollers (temple hills).  I uniformly suck at these no matter how fit I think that I am; but at least they got me warm.  The frost was think and we had lots of sun, as such we both remarked that this was probably the best day to ride in February.  It had snowed about 5 days previously, but a big melt had come shortly afterwards: big patches of snow but lots of bare, frosty spots abounded.  There was a fair amount of wind blowing from the south too which made for headwinds on the first 60 miles.

The first adventure was Spot the Wonder Dog.  Temple hills are enough, but having a dog chase you on temple hills is somewhat a different experience.  It became clear quickly that Spot was a playful dog and just really wanted to come along for the ride as he gleefully jumped and bounded around close enough to shoot any tempo to hell.  After a mile, we stopped, not wanting to lead him further away.  He was singularly unimpressed with our "go home" suggestions, but after a couple minutes, his owner showed up in van to drive him home.  Bye Spot, have a good day!

Since the repaving job on Q finally got finished, we got to remove one of the previous detours.  The New Q is indeed a beautiful, and now beautifully paved, road.  We came to Knapp and I had ice in my bottles which I dumped it in favor of hot water.   The ascent on Q out of Knapp has no shoulder, is twisting, and has many cars.  Fortunately, a new section with about a mile of gravel is now replacing a dangerous 19% grade.  Okay, it is being replaced by a mile of gravel leading to another 19% grade climb that is 2x longer; the hills score major points on my cold thighs.  On the plus side, when you do half mile climbs that steep sitting down in winter, you are treated to views that are otherwise invisible through the leaves.

On CR-X, I forgot myself and briefly attempted to stand while climbing.  I nearly fell over as my rear wheel spun on the sandy surface.  This section, while very beautiful, also included several new hills on the way to Dunnville at the confluence of the Chippewa and Red Cedar Rivers.  I recongized the area as one I had bonked on years earlier in the summer.  It's always a special feeling when you get to ride by a place you previously lay passed out on; at least my fitness has increased, here I was still pedaling and it was 50 degrees colder.

Dunnville itself is a tiny town that was previously the seat of the county and one old building remains.  Apparently, sometime in the 19th century, bandits from Menomonie showed up and stole the county records so as to provide a boost for that town.  How totally wild west to steal the county seat from a town.  Why don't we have really forthright politics like that today? 

We finally completed the Dunnville Loop and were back in Downesville for the control.  Downesville is a small town in every sense of the word.  It doesn't even sell gas.  However, the entire place was filled with cars which was definitely odd.  We stopped for lunch/receipts and asked why all of Dunn County was in Downesville.  Why its the annual Ice Fishing Contest was the reply, "we have 2 ponds that are just frozen enough".   So most of Dunn County was squatting on frozen ponds and the bikers are crazy? 

By the end of our lunch, temps were in the high 30s.  I switched to thinner gloves, but kept everything else, it was still nippy.  The south wind was decidedly friendlier on the way back to Knapp and I really enjoyed this stretch.  The winding road along the Red Cedar River and the climb back into Knapp are big highlights.  The only real ice we encountered was the descent into Knapp, I unclipped and carefully picked my way across while Gary simply pedaled over it.  No fear of falling has its advantages.

We got to Knapp around 4 with about an hour of daylight left.  Since Knapp is down in a valley, we had one more big climb to get out.  At the top, gentle roller awaited all the way back to New Richmond.  We switched our lights on before coming into Hammond, a control, and had about another hour of night riding.  This last stretch, on flat roads with beautiful, twinkling stars and no traffic was another big highlight.

One does not do winter perms as a time trial or to set records.  Our finish was about 12:35.  The temperatures sort of flirted with the 40s, but the sun is really what made the ride.  In the far north, we are subject to solar deficit disorder, meaning we are all cranky from being in the dark for months.  To be outside in the sun all day in February at 40 without snow is a rare thing indeed.  Gary beat me up every hill, no suprise, he is the true thighmaster.  It just re-enforces the axiom that randonneuring is about me having my ass handed to me by members of the AARP.

Gary's wife, Debbie, had prepared the family chicken wild rice soup for our arrival.  That, along with some sort of greek chicken thing from the New York Times that Gary had made himself was a delicious end to a fun day. 

RoadPixie and GearBob vs. The Fog

It has been an appalling amount of time since my last entry in September.  During that time, I rode 1200k in permanents and a 200k in Arizona.  All those rides were really something.  One was in San Francisco on bike I borrowed from a local rando.  Minnesota has had the biggest stretch of good weather in the winter since I have lived here.  I haven't even needed studded tires.

I had one permanent route that I had never ridden.  A 300k that is about to become a brevet route.  GearBob (not to be confused with SpinBob) wanted to finish his R12 with a spectacular finishing ride.  So he called me up about riding it.  We thought with the good weather, we would just wait for a sunny day in the 40s and it would be a snap.  Groundhog Day was fast approaching and the beautiful weather was rolling in.  A foggy start and then sunshine, 40s and no wind.  What could be better.

So we started out with temps just around freezing at 7:00 AM to avoid any overnight icing.  It was a foggy start, no doubt but, hey it was going to burn off.  We headed down Minnetonka Blvd and turned down Baker Rd for the first rollers of the day.  I am planning on getting a new frame and the builder had put a 130mm stem with a 17degree pitch pointing up to see if I could potentially have a little bigger frame.  Bike looks weird, but riding with GearBob is good for me: he knows all about such things.

As we moved through Eden Prairie, things were going well except that it seemed a bit cooler.  Sure enough my little thermometer read 28 degrees, down a couple.  That was puzzling, temps were supposed to be in the mid 30s by that time.  On the other hand, the fog was still in force and we started noticing long icy fuzz starting to grow everywhere, including on my hair!  There really wasn't any ice and the riding continued to be pleasent.  We pushed on to the first control, Belle Plain, at about mile 40.

At Belle Plain, I changed my Toasty Toes and had a brat, chocolate milk, a power bar and some gatorade.  Reading that sentence actually makes me feel really ill now, but at the time it was great.  The ice crystals at this point were about an ice long, hoarfrost on the trees outside.  If you have never seen hoarfrost, here is a picture:

photo of hoarfrost taken by unknown person, road pixie stupidly forgot her camera

We rode out of Belle Plain and had a beautiful climb out of the Minnesota River Valley.  Once on top of the bluff, the ride turned distinctly flatter with a slightly east wind that pushed us along.  This was a little dull with the fog blocking our view to the Nature Area, but passed pretty quickly.  As we rolled into Green Isle, the fog lifted and temps soared.  Up to 40 degrees we went without a cloud above.  We could, however, still see the fog bank to the northeast.

We turned onto County 15 and wound our way through the sunny day through Glencoe and up to Hutchinson.  This was a really nice stretch.  Though the road isn't really interesting for about 13 miles, the shoulder is about 10 ft across and 2 people can easily chat.  We had some really nice conversation and Hutchinson, mile 80, was in sight.  We rolled into the Econofoods and proped the bikes up in front of the large windows of the deli section.  A 93 year old woman with a walker congratualted us on our ride.  She had been a rider up until 84, she looked like she had some miles left in her too.  It was only 1:30.  We were on a pretty good pace to finish around 10-11:00 pm.

I had a huge chicken salad croissant, a Naked Mighty Mango and a plate of mashed potatoes and gravy.  Pure heaven!  We filled bottles and were really excited to get back on the road.

And the fog rolled in....

Just outside town, there it was waiting for us like some kind evil John Carpenter movie.   Our nice warm temps dropped at least 10 degrees in about as many minutes.  We put our coats back on.  Here things got interesting.

We some missed a turn somewhere.  Of course, the fog was so thick, it was impossible to see which direction was north.  Visibility was limited to a few hundred yards.  I turned on my strongest lights.  GearBob has super bright generator lights too.  We were lit up like Christmas trees.  We stopped a car and got some directions but as we continued on, we werent totally sure where we were still.  Suddenly, a local appeared out of nowhere.  He offered to show us back to the route.  What luck!

Turned out it wasn't quite as helpful as it could have been.  His pace was much quicker and both of us expended way too much energy keeping up.  In addition, we knew even less about where we were when he suddenly had to return to Hutchinson and said, "just take the next left".  Oops.

About 45 minutes later, I waved a car down.  We were way off course.  To get back to our route, we had to go almost 8 miles out of our way!  But finally after 2 hours of milling out, we found it.  There is nothing quite like doing bonus miles and then realizing you still have to finish.  And now we would be out very late indeed.  The next section, it turned out got distinctly hillier.  Were it not for the fog, it would have been very beautiful.  Alas, it wasn't.  Bob's stomach wasn't doing very well either, he was nibbling, but still trying to keep up.  The Annandale control was still 20 miles away.  The sun then set, we were still 85 miles out and it was 5:30 pm.  10 pm was not going to happen.  I started pondering internally whether we would make the 20 hour cutoff; but at Cokato GearBob was emphatic, this ride was going to get finished on time!

As the darkness set in along with the fog, I was glad I had so many lights.  Bob kept dropping back as we went over big rollers.  Finally, we turned onto Cty Rd 24, less than 3 miles to the control.  We were both hungry, wet and kind of cold.

At the Holiday Station, they were giving away free pizza.  Score!  I ate a couple pieces along with the famous Little Debbie Double Decker Oatmeal Cream Pie and a super concentrated Monster thing.  Within minutes, wings sprouted from my back and I was really to roll.  GearBob unfortunately did not fair as well on the fare.  He was to suffer dearly for his lack of vision!  At one point, while my mouth was full of sugery cream, an older gentlema walked in and exclaimed, "who is crazy enough to be out on this on bikes?".  All Bob could get out was, "I sure wish it wasn't me," with a big smile.

It was a quick 20 miles to Monticello, and I did my best to pace Bob.  I hate to watch a rando fight with their digestion.  We have all been there and its the mark of a fine one that they perservere.  In fact, it started to feel warmer.  The temperature was still 30, but the fog was gone for good.  I could see the countryside (well a little better, it was still dark).  That part of the ride is really nice and goes by Lake Maria State Park.  Too bad all I got a really good look at was the sign.

Monticello is an area with lots of options for a control and we opted for Culvers, a local fast food chain.  I had a hamburger, fries and root beer.  Bob had a burger and started feeling better.  We had 45 miles to go.  It was about 9:00 pm and the deadline was 3:00am.  Plenty of time.

I really enjoyed the next 2 legs.  The ride to Delano via Rockford is a lot of fun rollers and is even nicer when you can see it.  Rockford is right on the Crow River and the river was somehow comforting as we crossed.   We made it across the train tracks just in time to avoid a long wait and life was good.  We had a few minor setbacks but rolled into Coborns in Delano

I have to say the guys at the Coborn's was just astounded to see people on bikes roll in at midnight on a school night no less.  Bob changed socks and I had some vitamin water and another oatmeal cream pie.

The last 25 miles were both long and short, happy and sad.  The occaisional Christmas light still greeted us as we cruised through town.  It's always both happy and sad to finish a ride.  But the temperature started dropping again and I have to say the chocolate milk and yogurt at Cub Foods was delicious at the end.  We made it just a shade under 19 hours.

So GearBob has an R12 now.  It's a big accomplishment.  This is the second time I have been able to ride with someone finishing that particular award and it is always something special.