Dirty Road-A-Coaster

I had concerns about racing this 100k gravel grinder when my neighbor Mathew texted me suggesting it 3 days before the event. First, it was 100k, second, Mathew is faster than I am. When I looked at the pre-reg list I identified several fast riders from Rasputitsa.

My concerns were confirmed when the group began organizing around the start line. More than half of the bikes were road bikes with slick tires. There were even several pairs of carbon wheels. It was billed as 80% gravel but I am guessing the it was less than that. In addition, the gravel was strangely smooth with no technical or gnarly sections.

I was happy to get started and felt pretty good, riding in the half of the group. The first 5 miles were paved and mostly flat until it turned left up a steady hill. soon there was gravel and the lead group reduced to about twenty. I hung on until around mile 9 then thought better of riding in the red so early in a long ride.

I rode for some time with a group of 5 to 9 riders. The pace did not feel any easier as some young riders were breathing so hard I thought that I'd have to administer CPR. I was in a very compatible group that rode nicely for about ten miles. In this pack I elected to skip the first of 2 feed zones - a mistake. I was carrying minimal food and should have known better.

I ended up riding off with one other rider. We were joined by another rider who peeled off of the front group. The pace was too fast for me but I elected to push instead of being alone. I asked one of these riders how many miles we had gone. He looked at his computer and told me 34. A rider came up from behind and the pace quickened more on a paved section. I had to let them go after a few miles. I rode alone for 5 or six miles. After around 40 miles I knew I was bonking. I had less and less power on the hills. A roadie came up on me and we rode a few miles to the second feed zone. We stopped as did the rider ahead of us. I ate a cliff bar, half a banana and we were off. I felt a bit better for the next five miles. The roadie left me on another road section to face a tough had wind.

The last ten or twelve miles were purely survival riding; I was done. Small groups caught and passed me. It was painful to watch some riders that I was faster than ride away. The race ended on a long section of pavement. Mathew finished twelfth, I was near the back. I have endured sore knees and lower back as a result of using all of my body to climb the hills late in the event. I am really looking forward to a more relaxed pace with the rest of the Pickles riders and some other friends at the Tour de Heifer in 3 weeks.

Discovered a few additional pictures from F2G2 2015

 

 

 

3.5 - 4 hour gravel ride tomorrow, Saturday, at 1:00 p.m. Thought I would share a little inspiration:
http://salsacycles.com/videos/i_ride_for_her

Muddy Onion

 

On April 23, 2016 I found myself, the sole Real Pickles/Hampshire Bicycle Exchange rider, again in a sea of riders awaiting the start of another grueling Vermont Gravel Grinder. Although just over half the size of Rasputitsa, this group of 350+ was crammed into the city streets of Montpelier, Vermont, with the state house in the foreground. It is wonderful to watch the gravel explosion happen in New England. I waited for what seemed like an eternity for the event to start. I was absolutely freezing, choosing to dress light with bare legs and one base layer too few.

 

After a neutral loop around the city and onto Main Street we veered North up a series of steep paved climbs. I was just thrilled to be riding, even better to be climbing and generating some heat. I was tucked neatly into the front group sheltered behind other riders. This series of pictures tells the story of the quick toll the initial hills took on the group.

 

 

 

 



 As we finally hit our first dirt road about two or three miles in, the lead group, which contained Putney/West Hill's Kate Northcutt, was down to 15 with me hanging on to the back. The surging pack quickly became 14 as I dropped off, knowing that I would suffer later if I tried to stay with this group.

 

 

A mile or so later a group of 6 formed the chase group. This grew to as many as fourteen. It was  a peleton which lacked road racing experience, unlike the groups I had been part of at Rasputitsa. I tried to organize the group by setting a sensible pace when up front but 3 riders repeatedly attacked on the hills, causing a gap, then eventually fading back to the pack. The course was full of sharp, short hills with only two or three sustained climbs (beyond the initial climbs). I found myself with four other riders with about 7 miles to go. One of these was a strong rider who had fell out of the lead group (a few others had been shelled earlier). As we got closer to Montpelier I again experienced fatigue and stiffness in my legs. A few times I briefly got separated but was able to dig in and get back on. My descending saved me as I was able to make up time lost late in the ride.

 

On the last sustained climb the group shattered, it was mostly downhill from here. I was the last in the group. The fast group rider got away, 2 guys charged off together, I was left chasing a like aged strong Onion River rider. Fortunately I descended better than the prior, passed him and got a few hundred meters on him. As we hit pavement outside of Montpelier the terrain became flat. The Onion River rider slowly caught me. I sat on his wheel, my roadie days serve me well. He had tried to power by me and may not of known that I was sitting on him. He let up a little as a race organizer told us of the 90 degree left turn into the finishing shute. I accelerated by him and stayed in front with the two fellow pack riders just ahead. 

 

Another excellent event with tremendous support from the Onion River Shop. I was rewarded with a good feed and a Heady Topper (for the road)!





 Rasputitsa 2016

This group was enormous! Mass start with 670 riders!!

Looking for Dean, who had to pee.

 

Part 2, Tim's experience.

There were several familiar faces from both the Brattleboro area and from greater New England. The riders from West Hill Shop had excellent representation and showed very well. In particular, Kate Northcutt finished second amongst women.

 

 

The virtual sea of riders (670) easily eclipsed the 500 of 2015. As the group moved out under neutral support behind a Vermont Overland 4 x 4 vehicle I found it difficult to make my way forward to where Dean and others were. As we began climbing I was able to make quick progress through the field and avoid the first crash of the day, a mere half mile into the ride. I knew that today would be a difficult and arduous day that would require patience and economy. My fitness was good for this time of year so I really wanted to see what I was capable of.

 

 

Groups of 8 or more riders is where I spent the majority of my time though was with as few as three at times. I worked hard but not too hard in countless pacelines, knowing that this would increase my mph and better my finish place and time. I approached the KOM/QOM hill with calm reserve, knowing that it was going to be an extended and challenging climb. I rode it smart, maintaining a steady but hard pace. I was able to pick off several riders. The groups all but shattered leaving a group of 4 or 5 riders a few hundred yards ahead intact. I later concluded that this group likely contained Noah Elbers, a strong rider from Alstead, NH. Riding from here to Ciberia was a roller coaster abrupt hills which did nothing to promote the reformation of groups. Subtle cramping had started and I knew that I would need to hydrate, eat and ride smart. I was surprised that I was out descending almost everyone around me, a likely product of many miles of winter gravel riding in Vermont this year. There were several single rider crashes that I road upon, most of these occurred in muddy corners at the base of descents.

Me ripping a muddy section.

 

Once in Ciberia I found myself sitting on the wheel of a rider on a single speed ti mountain bike. He has very steady and set a pace that was manageable. I passed him at the top amid the fanfare of cheering folks dressed as Yeti's, Donkeys, and Unicorns, handing out treats and shots of maple syrup in ice shot glasses. I was able to pass a handful of riders on Ciberia's descent and entered the dirt road descent feeling pretty good.

John Buser and I warming up.

The long initial descent following Ciberia was great. I was alone and flying. I passed a few riders and felt even more rejuvenated. I knew there was still several miles of rolling dirt roads until the finish and needed to maintain a fast but manageable pace. I experienced more cramping and was feeling stiff when climbing while standing. The mental race was in full swing. I was losing my momentum and riders were slowly overtaking me. I think I probably lost 5 or 6 spots on the road.

I finally saw the 90 degree left turn which meant 5k to go (I think). It felt within reach. Still I suffered, trying to keep my pace up but becoming increasingly uncomfortable. I lost a few more spots in this stretch. Alas, I approached the final class 4 descent - a steep and rutty section which required caution. I flew down it and turned left approaching the Kingdom Trails parking area which contained the finishing shute. There was no one in sight before or after me. I had survived Rasputitsa!

Dean in the finishing Shute!

I had finished 111th overall with a time of 2:36:18, Dean rolled in some time later taking about a half hour off of his 2015 time! John Buser rolled in some time after that just happy to have finished (John learned earlier in the week that his red blood cell count was very low, a product of a genetic disorder which spell fatigue. I am ready to register for 2017! Next week I ride the Muddy Onion without any Pickles team mates. It will be huge as a record 300+ riders have pre-registered!

VOMAR 2016

Our morning started out with a few inches of freshly fallen snow on the ground in Brattleboro as we rolled off to Reading Vermont for the 2016 VOMAR. That had Bob, Tim and myself wondering what was going to be in  store for us, as I don't think any of us were quite prepared for riding the event in several inches of snow covering some already suspect mud season roads. The further North we traveled the less snow there was  on the ground. We were all relieved when we  hit exit 6 on I-91. It was  clear that we would not be navigating the 2016 course on any snowpack. We rolled into the parking lot and everyone started into their pre-ride check up. In true grassroots racing form I ran into some familiar faces as soon as I got out of the car.  Tyler and Rachael Cohen made the trip down from Jericho for the event. I've known Tyler since he was a kid, and have been racing against him for a few years.

We managed to get our registrations in order followed by a quick trip to the porto and then back to the car for our final preflight planning. Bob, Tim and I rolled to the start finish area and checked in with our other RealPickles racer Phil B. who had made the trip North with John Bliss. The starting area at these events is always  like a family reunion.  Two hundred plus riders rolled out promptly at 10am.  We headed North and faced one short climb followed by two longer climbs in the first five miles. These climbs started to stretch out the peloton as the stronger riders began to match each other and leave those less prepared riders faced with the first paroxysm of suffering on this 20F morning. I started surveying the team.  Tim was up front climbing effortlessly, Bob was next to me as well an old West Hill racer Chris Northcott. As we climbed we were both lamenting a team time trial that we did together back in the late 90's out of the West Hill Shop. It sure is nice riding with friends.  

The crest of our 3rd climb was at about mile five, which was also the first section of pave'. The jeep track was a twisty rolling descent littered with fragmented rocks. I let go of the brakes and rolled forward picking up speed, as I exited the rocky section, I noticed my rear wheel feeling soft. I dismounted and began change a flat. Tim rolled up followed by Bob. As I swapped tubes, we were trying to sort out where Phil was in mix.  Nobody had seen him for a mile or two.  Riders started to roll by en masse' asking if I had everything that I needed. No sooner than I ask a rider if they have a floor pump a vehicle pulls up and ultimately informs me that the floor pump is in the vehicle behind him. Cool! Here comes Phil, cool! 

Phil, Bob, and John Bliss roll on. Tim and I agree that we should just try to catch them as soon as possible. With floor bump in hand I easily get my tire inflated to adequate pressure. We roll. There is about a four minute gap that Tim and I will need to make up.  As we descend for nearly five miles, enjoying views of Ascutney off to the Southwest  I realize that we may not see these guys until the sugar shack.  We start to climb again and we encounter the second Pave' section which includes some unrideable portions. The track is just wet, and muddy. No real way to get purchase with the rear tire no matter how many watts we put out. This section include a tricky little descent back to the road.  We cross the street and now I’m thinking  We just might catch Phil and Bob. So fuck it, I hop on Tim's wheel and we push a moderate pace up this fairly unpretentious climb that maintains a reasonable grade for nearly four miles.  As we approach our next turn we pass the shell of a brick foundation that was recently consumed by a fire. Bob would later note the burned out toy metal car on the tree stump.

At about mile 18 Tim and I roll into the Sugar House Feed Zone.  We find Phil eating yogurt and Bob enjoying  the brief respite. Although the Sun is now high in the sky and it provides a nice sensation of warming while riding, standing still it still feels like 30F out. We enjoy some PB and Bacon sandwiches, Tim grabs some hot tea, we regroup and rollout continuing this climb, the roads are now turning a bit sticky. We continue climbing past the Newhall farm. We hit a descent with another section of Pave'. Regrouping at the end of the pave' Phil, Bob and I forge on for the final few miles. Tim meanwhile pushes on. We make a brief stop for Bob so he can adjust his saddle and then it's off to the finish. We descend down a windy road as the flurries intensify.  I punch it and Phil gets on my wheel, we big ring it into the finish area where Tim is looking for his glasses that he misplaced for before the start. 

Strava told me I rode 26.8 miles in 2:26 and climbed nearly 4,000 feet. We rolled out of Reading and it was puking snow.

Greasy Joe's

After the pre-ride group calisthenics of changing into cycling kit in a Honda Fit, Bob Bonneau, Time Fleming and Phil Brubaker began the Greasy Joe’s Gravel Grind on a chilly 31 degree morning. With no official group start, riders were starting out in a steady stream onto the course, which began on a long stretch of flat, straight trail. With no cars or technical riding to contend with, we had a nice warm-up and found ourselves passing many riders as we found a nice pace together. We saw the full spectrum of bikes on display: the standard ‘cross and gravel bikes, rigid 29er mountain bikes, the new Salsa Deadwood, randonee style touring bikes, even a few delusional (and hopefully very fit) riders on fat bikes. It quickly became apparent that while the route had less climbing than we were accustomed to in southern Vermont, it did have one new challenge for us: sand. Oh yeah, we’re in Rhode Island. That’s near the ocean. The sandy terrain had us surfing a few times, but on the flats it presented little problem. The route was a 70/30 mix of gravel and pavement and we saw little traffic on either. In fact, when the route left the pavement, we were often on public paths in the Arcadia and Big River Management Areas. After a dozen miles or so, we began to climb more often and the sand presented a bigger challenge. Knowing that getting out of the saddle would instantly generate a rear tire spin out, we put it in the granny and hunkered down. Luckily there were no sustained climbs. It was all very mellow. Friendly. Civilized even. Until, much like biting into an unseen Jalapeno in your mild salsa, we came upon some technical riding. I’m not sure if they were hiking trails or abandoned jeep roads but they were rough and it was a struggle to keep the bike upright on some sections. We all dabbed once or twice, but managed to mostly ride them. At a portage around a puddle in which you could waterski, we heard of a rider just before us who fell in and was fully submerged in the cold water. My heart went out to him, the air temp was only up to 37, so his ride was over, I assume. Right about the time our legs (and hearts and lungs) were reminding us that it was only March, the final 10 miles included a long stretch of smooth, low-traffic, flat pavement. The finish was a casual and unceremonious as the start, but one of the organizers made a point of coming over and chatting with us at the car. And judging from the sign out sheet, we were among the faster riders out there. Go Pickles! Phil had a celebratory donut.