…to me- from Ryan <3
Though Jens was looking clean on the outside, I knew that the now-infamous DSG uber-butter mud was hiding wherever it could. So yesterday, I started taking things apart.
First, the chain came off. It was new, but even after a thorough cleaning, it was rusted beyond saving. To the trash!
Next, the crank and bottom bracket:
I got those rinsed off but then wondered how the bearings themselves were looking…
I got that all cleaned/greased/happy and re-insalled it. When I started to re-install the chainrings onto the crank, I found that multiple teeth had burrs of metal sticking out from the edges (you couldn’t see them for the most part, so no photos, but feeling them was easy). I ended up using a file to gently remove the damage and make the damaged teeth as smooth as possible. I had enough chainsuck on Saturday to last my entire life, so I don’t care to experience it again.
Next, I decided to check out the headset.
I wiped it out, rubbed a bit of Phil Wood grease on it, and put everything back together. The only thing I’m not very comfortable with but still want to inspect are the hubs. They feel smooth, but I imagine that they have at least a little bit of grime inside of them, so I’ll probably end up taking them to the shop and watching while one of the guys takes them apart for servicing.
EDIT to ADD: The hubs were perfect… not a drop of mud in them! Hope Pro II hubs FTW!!!
Now it’s time for a shakedown ride and a test of the Garmin Edge 205 that I won for my 2 laps of attricion @ DSG.
I knew that a 12 hour solo race would be challenging, but not like this.
Friday morning, Ryan and I headed out to Cotton Mill Preserve in Fayetteville, TN. Once we arrived, we set up camp and I set out to ride a lap of the course. It was challenging- local people, think of the Lakeland trails, but 10 miles instead of 3. There were still some muddy spots, but I had switched to some IRD Fire tires that were pretty knobby, so they handled it better than I did for the most part.
I thought that I’d gotten lucky when I woke up Saturday morning and the rain had held off. Unfortunately, when we checked the radar, we saw that it would arrive about the same time as the LeMans-style (shotgun!) race start:
For about the first 7-8 miles, I felt really good in spite of the downpour. The Niner was rocking the bejezus out of everything I had the stones to go for.
Somewhere along the way, the rain stopped.
In the space of about 2 minutes, the seemingly unthinkable happened. The mud dried out just enough that it magnetized itself to any surface that it came into contact with. I ended up pushing/riding my bike for a few miles until I passed back through the start/finish area and made it to the bike wash before heading back to the tent for a camelbak swap and a snack. At that point, I figured that the course would soon dry enough that the mud would quit sticking.
I was very, very wrong. After riding the first mile of course (through the fields), I entered the singletrack through the woods. The mud came back with a vengance. I was forced to ride/push again. Pretty soon, this degraded to just pushing. Even in flatter spots and downhills, when I tried to pedal, the mud in my drivetrain would cause vicious chainsuck. Soon, even pushing became nearly impossible because the mud and plant matter jammed into every nook and cranny in my bike. I tried to clean handfuls of mud out, but within 10 feet (no exaggeration), the mud would clog everything and my wheels would not turn- I’d try to slide it along like a sled, but my feet slipped and I became more exhausted. I tried to carry my bike, but even after trying to clear as much mud as possible, the bike was still heavy and awkward. After about 7 miles, I was exhausted and took a bail-out road back to the pits.
Someone later told me that a full-on mud covered bike like this weighed in excess of 100 pounds. I wholly believe him, because I’m pretty strong, and I could not lift my bike off of the ground at this point.
I wasn’t going down without a fight. Ryan took the bottle cages off of his road bike, and I changed in to some clean socks and trail running shoes. We swapped my number onto the bars and I went off to get back to the trail where I’d left off.
While hiking in that mud with a bike on your shoulder isn’t easy, it was almost enjoyable compared to the alternative. As I rounded the final corners towards the finish, someone handed me the most delicious homebrewed beer I’ve ever had. I downed about half of it before the announcer and random people in the crowd started yelling at me to ride the bike. I (temporarily) handed the beer off to a bystander and got to it… (photo courtesy of CyclingDirt)
Believe it or not, my two laps in 9 hours and change was good enough for 2nd place in the Solo Amateur Female category. I got a sweet DSG award and a Garmin Edge 205 computer. Woohoo!!! I’m looking forward to the next event. After more than 7 hours of bike non-riding, the thought of actually riding for a few hours more than that sounds easy.
… words to live by.
So, even though I just picked up Jens Voigt a little more than two weeks ago, and we didn’t see each other for an entire week up until yesterday because I exploded his rear derailleur on our 1 week anniversery, I entered the Dirt, Sweat, and Gears 12 hour race anyway.
Things in my favor:
Solid base training
I know how to pace myself
I know how to eat/drink
Things NOT in my favor:
It’ll probably be muddy
I fall a lot in the mud
I’ve never ridden at night (I was going to last week while it was reasonably dry, but then the DR thing happened…)
I entered the amature category even though I was sorely tempted by the nice prize money they’re giving to the top 3 spots in the Pro division. Since it’s my first time out, we’ll see how I fare against both fields. Next time it shouldn’t be as hard of a decision.
Other stuff: Weekend after this one, I’m riding the MTBÃ‚ leg of the Memphis in May triathlon on a relay team. Then, on Sunday, there’s a MTB race at Mongomery Bell State Park that I’ll probably road trip to. I’m not sure what category to start in there. Common sense says beginner (cat 3), but from what I’ve heard, you can start as a cat 2 (sport) as well. I thinking that since it’d probably be a quick jump anyway that I should just HTFU and start as a Cat 2.
Who wants to make an almost 3 hour road trip to only race 8 miles, anyway?
The rain began to fall as we rolled out from Finley Stadium on the 3 State 3 Mountain century. It began to pour as we crossed the top of Suck Creek Mountain (which was absolutely gorgeous, by the way). The descent was a bit scary, and it pretty much killed my brake pads. A lot of people at the bottom were gathered under any type of overhand they could find because at that point, the rain was torrential. A lot of people quit and called on friends to come and pick them up. I ate a powerbar and pressed on, and eventually the rain let up to a steady pelt rather than a constant dump. I warmed up and found a nice-paced group to stick with.
I had all intentions of riding the century, but for some reason, I was feeling homesick. When we reached the turnoff for the metric century, I bailed. Figuring I should make the best of my shortened ride, I put my head downÃ‚ and rode into the headwind at a steady sub-threshold/tempo pace. I passed one guy and didn’t think much of it. A little while later, I heard something behind me. Looking back, I realized that I had a train of about 5 guys sitting on my wheel. It was kinda funny. I kept going and one of them thanked me for pulling him around.
I didn’t care. It was good training, and, when you’re in front, you don’t get water spray in your face. I felt kinda bad for making the trip and only going 62 miles (2 states, 1 mountian!), but I was happy to get home before dark.
Today Ryan and I rode to the Cory Horton Cycle for Safety ride. On the way out, I stayed with the front group. The pace got a little bit brutal at times, but I was motivated to keep up by Maggie, an uber-strong tri-lady who was making it look easy. I told her she needs to road race.
When the group left the turnaround point, I didn’t even attempt to ride back with them. Instead I took it (sort of) easy and rode/talked with another rider who I graduated with from U of M. Eventually, I met back up with Ryan, who had left the front group and turned around to ride back to me. At that point, I was fried. Along the way back, I felt a bonk coming on, so I ate a powerbar (note to self- I like powerbars…Ã‚ need to get another box!) and stopped to watch some incredibly noisy guinea fowl wandering around next to the road. It headed off the bonk, but I was still hurting by the time we got home. I think that the hard ride out combined with using Ryan’s spare compact crank (with 175mm arms)Ã‚ zapped my legs and made my knees ache a bit (though I did adjust the saddle for the modified crank size… it’s still different from what I’m used to).
Now, it’s time to clean some gutters and move some gravel.
Since Jens Voigt the mountain bike is still laid up in the hospital with a fractured derailleur, I made a late-week decision to take a trip to Chattanooga for the 3 State 3 Mountain century ride. It’s been rainy, but the rain has been patchy, and the weather channel was showing a break in the showers Saturday morning. I was also incredibly bored with Memphis area roads.Ã‚ So, last night I swapped a compact crank on to the BH (not that I can’t get up the mountains without it- it’s more of a question of do I want to go up the mountains without it) and this morning I set out on the road.
I made plans to stay at the Raccoon Mountain Caverns campground. However, when I arrived today, the place was packed… not with just the usual campers, either- it had been taken over for a large Bluegrass Festival! There were tents packed in to every open patch of ground on the property, and people packed in and around them in much the same manner. The guy at the front gate told me that there was room for primitive camping. “How much for one night?” I ask. He tells me ten dollars. Score!
At least I thought.
“Oh yeah, then there’s the price of admission to the festival, and that’s twenty bucks, so yer lookin’ at thirty total.”
I’d like to pause here and say I honestly think that hanging around a bluegrass festival tent farm could probably be pretty damn fun. However, with a long run planned for the afternoon, a century planned for tomorrow morning, and another 70 miles on Sunday, I really can’t justify doing that right now. I’ve got to race a 12 hour in a week!
So I tell him sorry, that’s a bit steep and head back down the road to find a motel. Best Western. I unload the car, change, and head back out to Raccoon Mountain for some trail running. Even though I took a trail map with me, a couple of the turns were not marked and I ended up only getting in about a ten mile run rather than the 15 I was hoping for. I gotta hand it to the SORBA people… that is a first class trail system! We could never have anything that nice in Memphis because people would tear it up the first time it rained. I didn’t pass a single spot that had been rutted or widened.
When I arrived back at the motel, I turned on the TV only to see that the area was about half an hour away from getting slammed by some thunderstorms. That, along with my own hot shower and indoor plumbing made $80 for a room seem not quite as bad. My tent has a rainfly, but I’m pretty sure it would keel over in high winds. Once I was cleaned up, I went to a nearby Chinese buffet where I heard a really good joke courtesy of the people at the table next to me. It was a husband and wife (I’m assuming), two teenage girls, and a ~8 year old chinese girl who appeared to be an adopted child. I wasn’t paying too much attention to them until I heard one teen girl say to the other, “Hey, you want to hear something funny? Hey Caroline (to the Chinese girl), where do babies come from?”
“From China!” Caroline answers happily. Everyone laughs. I giggled a bit myself.
So now I’m back at the motel. The weather forecast has changed, and it looks like tomorrow will be wet. I really wish I had a rain cape. Maybe I’ll go to WalMart first thing in the morning and get something waterproof so I don’t freeze on the descents. I think the weather was a lot like this last year except a little cooler (though apparently it cleared up later in the ride). I’m just glad I’m not too busy racing to do things like this. It’s a nice break, even if the weather is crappy.
The FAIL content of my weekend post overshadowed the fact that on Saturday morning, I went to a pretty kickass adventure racing clinic.
I’ve been interested in the sport of adventure racing for as long as I can remember, but I’ve either been too poor to afford the necessary equipment or just generally overwhelmed by the gear, navigation, etc. required to participate in a race. Since my recent change of competitive direction, though, I decided I’d start figuring it out.
So, I asked the internet for advice and found this site: Ozark Extreme Adventure Sprints. It’s a series of challenging, yet beginner-friendly races. The nice thing is, they offer a Solo category in both Sprint and Advanced distances. The race organizers (Brandon and Robin) are also the ones that held the clinic last weekend at Burns Park.
I’m planning on competing in my first race in June at Village Creek State Park. Fitness-wise, I am totally confident in my ability to complete the Advenced-division race. However, I feel that even though I did well with navigation at the clinic, I need more practice so that I can put my fitness to good use.
I’ve heard that there are some control point markers out at Shelby Farms, so now that I’m finished teaching for the summer, I need to get myself a decent compass, UTM reader, topo map and some coordinates & get my butt out to the park!
Who am I kidding… you know I’m gonna enter the Advanced division.
So I went for my 4 hour ride this morning. I accidentally left one of my favorite water bottles at the Shelby Forest General Store. Luckily, Ryan gave me one of his when I ran out of water about an hour from home.
Once we got home, I grabbed a snack and headed back out to ride more at Stanky Creek. I wanted to ride a solid two hours in preparation for Dirt Sweat & Gears in a couple of weeks. Other than my legs feeling a bit sluggish in the first few minutes, I warmed up and actually felt pretty damn good. I really wanted to focus on not using my brakes as much, looking ahead instead of down, and generally carrying more speed into tricky spots where I usually tend to slow down.
I was doing this well.
Then I rolled over some leftover branches from a downed tree that had been cleared from the trail. I heard a stick hit my spokes, and a fraction of a second later, I felt as if someone had ripped my bike out from under me as something jammed into my rear wheel (maybe a stick between the spoke/frame?) Though the bike stopped abruptly, I kept moving, and ended up falling onto the handlebars andÃ‚ jamming a bar end into the meaty part of my thigh. It hurt too much for me to curse, so I just sat on the trail for a minute looking at my bike and trying to figure out WTF just happened. I’m not sure, because once I did get back on, the chain started skipping between gear and being generally noisy. I’m hoping it’s not a bent derailleur hanger, but the way my luck has been with those lately, it probably is. Whatever it was, it cut my afternoon ride time short by an hour.
So I’m officially labeling this weekend as a “fail” (though since the first part of yesterday was pretty good, I’ll reserve the label of “epic” fail).