TIV9 equipment report

A number of people had posted about their bike setups before TransIowa. I wasn't able to due to time and other commitments. I also thought it would be more useful to discuss the equipment and how well it worked after the event.

My trusty, disc based Salsa La Cruz carried me to the finish with no issues. It's easily the most comfortable bike I own. I've had the fit dialed in by Adam Thompson at Rasmussen Bike Shop twice, pre and post aero bars, and I wouldn't change a thing. 

• Shimano 105 brifters
• Salsa Bell Lap bar
• Profile T2+ aero bars
• Specialized cork tape
• Ultegra front mech
• Dura-Ace rear mech
• Stronglight Pulsion carbon crankset with 34/46 rings
• 12-27 10 speed 105 cassette
• Shimano 10 speed chain
• BB7 road brakes

Everything worked as expected. The only issue I noted at the end was a slight softness in the rear brake due to wear. I used a Specialized Phenom saddle that I purchased a number of years ago. It was comfortable for the entire race and I noticed no numbness beyond what you would expect for riding for over 28 hours. Some people might scoff at the aero bars, but they gave me another hand position to use and allowed me to stretch out my back and legs by changing my hip position on the seat. They were also quite helpful riding into the headwinds I encountered from mid-afternoon until sunset on Saturday.

I used a Revelate Designs Tangle bag as my immediate food storage, a Revelate Designs Feedbag as miscellaneous storage, and a medium sized seatbag (similar to a Revelate Designs Pika) for storing clothes, tools, spare tubes, and any other food). Other than some issues getting into the feedbag due to the aero bars, everything worked as expected. I carried four waterbottles, two in the main triangle and two hose clamped to my fork. I have used a Profile aero cage holder in the past, but it wouldn't work in conjunction with the seatbag. The bottles all stayed in place, and, I generally had enough fluids to get me between refuel points. Would it have been hotter, I might have had to consider additional bottles in jersey pockets, or something else to carry more fluids.

My lighting system was made of a Schmidt disc dyno hub paired with B&M IQ Cyo-R LED headlight, a Planet Bike Superflash taillight and a generic, 175 lumen, AAA powered LED headlamp I bought at Lowes. All worked as expected. I ran the taillight in non-stop blink mode, and the head lamp as needed using AAA lithium batteries. I carried spare batteries for the headlamp, but didn't need to use them. I had some people tell me that I would notice the drag of the Schmidt as the race wore on. I've ridden with mine enough, and the drag is low enough that I never really noticed it. The light pattern was bright and right where I needed it to be. It was really nice not worrying about if my main light was going to run long enough. The weight of the hub was the same as the two battery packs that it replaced. I would not hesitate to run the same system again. I liked the headlamp, but a model with a adjustable brightness would have been nice to have.

I used a Garmin 800 with an external battery pack as my main bike computer. I had a Cateye Micro wireless computer mounted as a backup in case I had issues with my Garmin. I disabled all of the maps in the GPS, including the basemap, before the race started. I hit the power button on the external battery pack around hour 10 of the race, and then every few hours thereafter to make sure the gps stayed running. I would definitely use this set up again.

TIV9 Race Recap - All good things must come to an end

As I pulled into the the Kwik Star I noticed two other bikes leaning against the building, but I don't recall seeing the riders as I entered. I grabbed a basket and aimlessly wandered the aisles of the truck stop for quite a while. I really wanted a bottle of Muscle Milk, but couldn't find any, so I settled for chocolate milk, two donuts, beef jerky, and a warm sausage and cheese sandwich.  I found a spot in the dark of the trucker's lounge, and sat down at a table with Charles and Chris refuel. I finished the first round of food off and was still feeling hungry, and I was starting to get chilled. I wandered around a bit more and, being chilled, I grabbed a can of Coke and another bottle of chocolate milk and went to the counter to pay. I must have looked horrible, as the overnight clerk, who was really chipper, asked me if I wanted a cup of coffee. It didn't sound good, so I turned him down. Sleep deprivation causes you to do stupid things sometimes. I sat back down in the lounge and made a quick FB post about my position while finishing chocolate milk and Coke off. We spent about 45 minutes at the truck stop before the call to leave was announced. I quickly filled my bottles, dropped some Nuun tablets in, and followed the group out the door sometime around 5:00 AM.

We headed east for a mile, looking at the morning twilight and then dropped south into a valley for what seemed like a long time. The cold, damp air that settled in the valley really made me want to finish soon. Finally, we turned west, and Mark's route continued to pound at our legs with more loose gravel and a miles of constant rolling hills. Around mile 304, we came off of a jog and on to a flat straight section of road. It was covered in big, chunky gravel, with the "smooth line" barely discernable from the rest of the road. Jay Barre led us onto the rock. As the smooth line Jay was following ended, I jumped to the opposite side and pushed the pace a bit. It was easier for me to ride at speed and let the bike bounce a bit. I slid even further into the dirt at the edge as Paul Errington and Jay dropped in behind. We rode like this for just over a mile until we hit a stop sign at the intersection with a paved road. We were out of breath, but the last mile of our own little "Paris Roubaix" helped wake up our heads and legs a bit. I recall our group starting to break up a bit around this point of the race. Tim Ek had told us he was going to cruise in because his knee wasn't feeling good. Mike, Ben and Chris were content to hold the pace we had been riding the entire night. With the finish feeling close and the sun warming us up, Charles, Jay, both Paul's and I were slowly picking up the pace the further we rode along.

We hit a small section of B road around mile 306, rode through it, and then an energetic Tim Ek passed Charles and I while we stopped for a bio break. He settled in with Jay and "the Pauls" as Charles and I rejoined them. Tim had made some seat post adjustments after he had dropped back and his knee wasn't bothering him any more. The pace picked up a bit more and then we turned north onto a set of rollers and things really started heating up. Tim passed me on the first uphill and for some reason my legs woke up a bit, and I decided to jump on his wheel. We cruised on the downhill together and he passed me on the next uphill. I got onto his wheel again and this time I decided to drive the pace on the downhill until I had built a bit of a gap between the two of us. I looked down at my cue sheets and realized we still had a ways to go, so I backed off to get my heart rate down and give my legs a rest. Not too long after this, I hear a bike behind me and turn to see Charles Parsons. He flashed a smile and said "I couldn't let my good friend Dog Chow just ride off", then rode ahead. I wouldn't see Charles again until the end of the race. Tim pulled up next to me as we were getting closer to town, and I told him I hoped he was done riding hard, as I was feeling pretty spent. He glanced over, picked up the pace a bit more, and then rode off ahead of me. I still felt pretty good, and I wanted to finish strong, so, knowing that there were just a few miles left, I picked up the pace a bit more as I crossed under I-80. I could almost smell the finish now, and my body and legs responded with just a bit more power. I turned the corner and headed west towards the finish. As I looked up I saw Tim just 3/4 of a mile ahead of me. The pressure on the hills over the last few miles had kind of blown the "overnighters finish together" mantra that I assumed was an unspoken rule, and I thought about sitting up at this point. But, knowing what Tim had accomplished as a rider over the the years, it was a big deal to me to finish with or ahead of him to set a personal benchmark. With that in mind, I rolled forward on to my aero bars and picked up the pace. It took a mile or two, but I caught up with Tim, kept rolling past and took a left turn onto the B road and into the home stretch. I got out of the saddle and sprinted, then sat and sprinted one more time, turning down a small driveway, expecting to see the barn at any minute. Instead, I found myself in a private driveway. I turned around a couple of times and rode back out, looking for the turn to the barn I must have missed. I turned back around and rode to the end of the driveway again, and as I was circled once more to go out, Tim pulled up. I'm not sure if he had followed me, or if had made the same mistake that I did, and turned down the wrong road. Karma always comes around, and I was paying for not finishing with the group. Tim and I talked on our way back to the finish, and he suggested that I go in first. A big thanks to him for allowing me to do so.

I rolled down the final hill towards the finish, turned into the driveway, sprinted towards, and past Mark and the small crowd of people gathered around the finish area, skidded to a stop and let my bike drop I was finally done. I had finished 323.3 miles of TransIowa V9 in just over 28.5 hours - far faster than I had ever imagined finishing. I got a bit lost with all of the people gathering to congratulate me, but the best thing was turning around and seeing that my wife Kathy had made it to the finish and was there to give me a hug and congratulate me. She had been completely supportive of my training and weird schedule over the last 4 months, so it was absolutely perfect to share the moment with her.

Lots of things happend in quick succession. I gave Mark a long hug, partly out of exhaustion, but partly because it was the only way I could say thank you to him without breaking down in tears. Photos ensued. Kyle Sedore handed me a bomber of cold tasty Double IPA. I took a huge swig. It was ice cold and so satisfying. Rob Versteegh and Kyle were both handing me dry clothes and food. Julie Goodman scrubbed my dog bite out with Everclear, and bandaged it. Sarah Russell held me up after the bomber  and exhaustion got to me. I honestly felt like Cancellara at the end of Paris Roubaix - Through the crucible, out the other side intact, and into the hands and arms of an incredible support crew to make sure I looked good on the podium, or in this case, a log by the fire. Having everyone there at the end meant a lot to me, and I want to thank each and every one of the people that I mentioned for making my finish just that much more special.

This is pretty much the end of my race recap (Gee, only 4 long posts?) If you've made it through this far, congratulations. :) I'll have one final post coming with some miscellaneous thoughts, and some discussion about my bike and setup for those that are curious.

TIV9 Race Recap - Light and darkness.

I left CP2 with just half bottle of water, and 10 miles to the next convenience store. I dropped in behind Jana Vavra and (I believe) Paul Chapman. I tried keeping pace with them, but I was still in survival mode, so I ended up about 10 - 12 bike lengths behind them all the way into Gladbrook. After 50 minutes and a bit of pavement through town, I pulled into a Casey's parking lot and found a number of other riders sitting there refueling. This was the last convenience store for nearly 100 miles and everyone was taking time to fuel their bodies as well as stock up for the next leg. It also appeared that a number of the overnight groups were being worked out while people ate and rested. I parked my bike on the west side of the building, said hi to a few people and stumbled into the store to get some food and drink. Mark hadn't warned the store that there might be a group coming in, and the staff appeared a bit flustered with the sudden rush of traffic. Cornbread spied my leg and suggested that I should clean the wound out while I was there. It didn't really hurt, so I politely shrugged off his suggestion. After two more mentions of the need to  clean the wound up, I finally gave in. He grabbed a bottle of hydrogen peroxide from the shelf and got in line behind me. I grabbed the bottle from him, paid the cashier, and pulled up a slice of curb outside so I could eat and clean up.

As I ate, more riders showed up and I struggled figuring out why I had to arrived ahead of this many people. Many of them were people I considered favorites to win, some of them with multiple TI finishes under their belts. Cornbread and one of the other people from Lincoln cleaned my leg off, for which I was very grateful. The H202 had a bit of a sting and foamed a lot, but it was good to know that we were taking a swipe at the germs sooner rather than later. Riders continued to come in to the parking lot, some, like Jim Cummins, looking completely spent. I hoped that they were able to rest, recover, and finish the race. While I ate and talked, I noticed a number of the favorites getting their stuff together and leave. I used that as my cue to get going, and quickly grabbed a can of coke for the road, packed my stuff up and headed out. As my friend and TI finisher Paul Jacobson said, "Get back on the bike." I'd spent just over an hour recovering and felt loads better as I headed north out of town. As I rode down the pavement I could see a good sized group of riders forming in the hills ahead of me. I really wanted to catch them, but I wanted to take a cautious approach to how much energy I used to bridge up to them. I rode at a steady pace, slowly closing the gap between me and the group. Near mile 195, I pulled in behind them as they slowed to change cue sheets. I quickly took stock of who was here.  First, was Charles Parsons, Tim Ek, Mike Johnson and Jay Barre. All of them had finished on one or more occasions, and were well poised to finish again. Next, Paul Errington and Ben Oney. Both super strong riders with lots of ultra-distance experience. Paul had finished the Dirty Kanza 200 last summer, and Ben had finished 13th in the 2011 Tour Divide. Both brought more firepower to the group. Finally, Chris Wells and Paul Carpenter. I had not met either of them before today, but if they had made it this far, then they had to be strong, and feeling pretty good. After about 30 seconds, I felt that all of these riders were likely to finish, so I decided to sit in with them for the rest of the race.

Spirits in the group were high, considering that we were not even two-thirds of the way through the race. The sunset and susequent twilight were gorgeous and there was a lot of talking and joking going on when the roads were good. On the hills and loose rock, things quieted down and it became obvious that TCoB was the order of the day at those points. Jay was doing a bang up job as navigator and Charles was moving around in the group, talking to people and keeping things organized. Being the "FNG" of this group, I made sure I took long pulls at the front and tried not to do anything to jeopardize being allowed to stay in the group. I was still not sure how I had arrived in a position to ride with this particular group overnight, and I was waiting for the proverbial hammer to fall on my personal race at any time. The next few hours were routine. We pedaled, and we stopped every hour or so for food or a bio break, as long as the majority of the group needed to do so. There were times where we didn't stop if only one person needed to stop. I was having issues holding my line as twilight turned to dark. It was obvious I was starting to get fatigued. At one point, I started getting whiny and negative about the road conditions, and Charles Parsons dropped back from the front of the group, quietly told me "Say nothing but positive words from here on out." and then proceeded to ride back up front. I took the kindly worded hint and kept quiet, unless spoken to for quite a while. During the night, the talk died down other than the announcement of milestones ("only 100 miles left") or warnings about dangerous road surfaces. I had a number of instances of paranoia hit me, especially if I was by myself. I was convinced that there were people in the group that didn't want me there, and they were plotting out a way to get rid of me. Close to midnight, the fatigue really set in and I started cat napping for a few seconds while riding, even on the steep downhills. This went on for at least 30 minutes until I realized what a danger I was becoming, and told the group I needed to stop for a bit. Charles stopped with me for a few seconds to make sure I was OK and then took off to catch up with the group. I broke into my seatbag and drank one of the two bottles of 5 Hour Energy I had bought just in case something like this happened. I had used it for the same reason during my first ultra distance event, the Metamora 4x50, in 2006, and knew that it worked for me when the chips were down. Drinking that, and some water,  made me feel quite a bit better, and soon I was alert, back on the bike, and making contact with the group after a steep hill or two.

As I looked around, I realized that we were on a portion of TIV7 course again, as we were descending towards the Iowa River a bit north of Montour. I was happy that Mark had opted to not use the particularly hilly section of B-road on our route this year, and soon we crossed Highway 30 and cruised on pavement into Montour. As the evening wore on, we exited a B road and everyone stopped to make sense of a huge mileage jump between two cues. After confirmation by all nine riders, it was decided that this really was a long push in one direction, and we had not all lost the same sheet. After this big push, thoughts started turning to the next convenience store stop. We were all ready for a break at this point, and the thought of the 24 hour oasis was increasingly appealing to everyone. Cresting, a short steep hill, we could see a glow only a mile or two away. Surely we would be there soon!  However, road signs and cue sheets indicated otherwise. We turned away from the warm glow, and towards the town of Brooklyn. Again, knowing the area you are in can be a good and a bad thing. After the first disappointment, I was convinced that the promised convenience store would be in Brooklyn, and near the freeway. However, the cue sheets turned us away from the freeway, and I became really confused. It was now about 2:30 AM, and we all stopped in the middle of Brooklyn and took stock of the situation. Reading the cues, we still had another 10 - 15 miles to get to the c-store. At this point, everyone deflated a bit. The temperature had dipped into the mid 30s, and fatigue was really starting to set in. Most people were prepared for mid 40s as a low. Some where chilled and were looking for more layers, while others were resigned to their fate, and tried to push the cold out of their thoughts. We took a few minutes to pass extra layers to people in need and refueled. In silence, we all remounted our bikes and left Brooklyn behind us. For the next 12 miles, the pop of rock against the tires was the only sound we heard. The roads were hilly, littered with fresh rock, and no one in the group made a sound. Mentally, this was the lowest point for me on the entire ride. I was tired, none of the food I had with me sounded appetizing, and I could see the light of the c-store off in the distance, calling me like a siren. After what seemed like an eternity, we finally pulled into the Kwik Star near the intersection of Hwy 21 and I-80. It had been nearly 100 miles of riding by this point, and it had taken us about 9.5 hours to get here. I was, once again, behind on fluids and not feeling well, with only 3 large bottles and a can of coke since we left Gladbrook. But, we only had 40 miles left to go and a finish was looking more like a "when", rather than an "if" as long as nothing out of the ordinary happened. I parked my bike and stumbled into the warmth of the store, knowing that we would soon be seeing the sun rise a second time.

TIV9 Race Recap - Good Times and Bad

Mark gave us the opportunity to climb a nice, steep hill right after leaving CP1. I clawed my way to the top, and tried to not over-exert myself in the process. A few miles down the road, the course turned north, and it became apparent that the winds were a bit stronger than forecast. The sun was out, the gravel had gotten a bit nicer, and I had a tailwind - it was really a good time to be riding. I caught up to a few riders as I closed in on Melbourne, including Aaron Gammel and one of his Moose's Tooth teammates. We rode together through Melbourne until we arrived at the turn for the bike path near Highway 330. Mark had mentioned there was a convenience store around mile 75 or so, and seeing a small one a half mile up the bike path, I turned right, and off course, while everyone else turned left and followed the route. I had promised myself early on that I would visit any convenience store I saw to get something to eat and top off fluids, and this was the first opportunity to do so. I met Matt Maxwell at this store as well, so I felt better about my decision to go a bit off route. I downed some chocolate milk, a fruit pie, refilled all of my bottles, and bought a Snickers Almond Bar to go, then rode back on course. I met more riders at this point, and as we crossed under Hwy 330 and exited the tunnel, the photographers were camped out waiting for us. After four or five miles of pedaling, we were in State Center and riding right by a Casey's. Judging by the pile of bikes outside, this was supposed to be our first convenience store. Since I had just filled up about 3 miles earlier, I opted to enjoy the tailwind and keep motoring on by myself. Exiting town, I passed by a pheasant farm. I certainly had never seen one of those before. A few miles outside of State Center, I pulled up next to Jay Barre, Ben Oney and Chris Mills. Jay was looking strong on his Gunnar single speed, and Ben and Chris were both quite comfortable with the pace they were riding. Since I had been riding by myself for a good portion of the morning, I decided to settle in, chat a bit, and just enjoy being on the bike in such great weather. I rarely get to ride with Jay or Ben, so this was was a good chance to catch up with them by something other than Facebook posts.

This was an interesting part of the course. We hit some soft sandy sections as we passed by Marietta Sand Prairie Preserve, and soon found ourselves turning on to Mormon Ridge Road, which was the first long climb of the day. Everyone found their own pace up the hill and, upon cresting the climb, we found ourselves on a gently curving road, with trees on our right and a gorgeous valley view our left. We passed a small historical site with a log cabin on it, as well as a giant robins egg blue house with red doors. We dropped off of the ridge, stopped for a short food and bio break at a bridge, then kept moving on. After passing over a washed out section of gravel, we passed Paul Errington and Tim Ek along the side of the road. Tim was working on fixing a flat tire and Paul appeared to be providing moral support and high fives to anyone that passed by. A short time later, we pulled up on two more riders out of the race just outside of Union. One was sitting near a fence line and waiting for ride, and the other was Lance Andre, who had shred a tubular. He was walking into Union in search of a beer and to wait for a ride. Suddenly I was feeling lucky about not having any suffered any flats or mechanicals, even though it was early in the race. A short way after we passed Union, I found myself alone again as my "brain off" pace was different from that of either Jay, Ben and Chris. The tailwind and the sun continued to boost my spirits and keep me moving on. 

Around mile 120, the route turned on to pavement and through the town of Eldora. For some reason, this section was a little confusing to me, even though we went straight through town. As I rode through town, I didn't see a convenience store or anywhere I felt like stopping it, so I made the decision to keep rolling north. This decision would be both a good and bad thing for me further up the road. The route continued to follow pavement north of Eldora, crossing a crumbling, but still functioning bridge before sending us back on to Hardin County gravel roads 124 miles in to the race. At mile 127, I pulled over to allow a large tractor and harrow get past me, only to have to hit the brakes as we both descended into the Iowa River valley. I followed the tractor left and breathed a sigh of relief as he turned off into a farm just as the next long climb started. I had no issues with the climb, which was, once again, tree lined and gorgeous, despite the lack of leaves on the trees. 

After I crested the climb, I took a drink and was preparing to get back in to my over-the-road rhythm, when I noticed a white dog running out from the farm I was passing. Before I knew it, I had two dogs running after me. The smaller of the two was on my left, and dodging dangerously close to my front tire. The larger one opted to take a longer route and chase from behind. In perfect pack hunt mode, the smaller one herded me along and distracted me, while the larger one continued to build speed. Both dogs were much more aggressive than any I had previously encountered while riding and I was becoming concerned. Neither my sharp commands of "no" and "bad dog", nor the shouts from the people at the farm were having their any effect. Suddenly I felt a hard tap on my right heel, and then things quickly went silent as the larger dog sank it's mouth into the meat of my right calf. Shock quickly morphed into fight or flight response as I wasn't sure that this was actually happening. I stopped pedaling, locked the brakes up and the dog immediately let go and ran across the street and sat at the edge of an unplowed field. I was in a state of panic at this point. I recall screaming at the dog, at the people at the farm, and, silently at myself. I was afraid to look at my calf. I was sure my race was over. I needed to get the owners info, but I wanted to get away as fast as I could. I started to throw a leg over my bike, but noticed the dog tensing up as soon as my foot left the ground, so I stood still, my bike between me and the dog, and waited for the owners to come out. I looked away from the dog to see two women running toward me, while an older man in an electric wheelchair cruised out of the driveway, swung left, and rolled up behind them. I looked at my calf, and was relieved to see mostly scratches. However, the dog had sunk one of his lower canines in solidly, and that hole was pumping blood out at what seemed like a rapid rate. One of the women handed me a damp paper towel to clean the blood off, and one to dry my leg with. After assurances that the dog had never done this before, and that he was up to date on his shots, I found out that the people helping me were just watching the dog for a friend. After a failed call to the dog's owner, I emailed both the old guy's and the owners contact info to myself, and made a mental note of the location. After what was the longest 10 minutes I've ever spent stopped during a bike race, I got back on my bike and continued up the course.

After a few easy pedal strokes, I was amazed that the bite area only felt slightly bruised. I bumped the effort up a bit and, noticing no sharp pain, quickly got back into what I thought was race pace. I passed two riders that received the sharp end of my tongue earlier when they inquired about my condition. I slowed up a bit, explained what happened, and apologized for being so rude. I descended into the river valley again, climbed out, and then bounced across a freshly rocked section of road near the Hardin County Conservation headquarters. Finally, the road smoothed out and I was able to sit on my aero bars, ride a bit of tempo and try to catch up on my nutrition. Up to now I had been running on adrenaline and rage, and it took me a while to get settled down and get things back to normal. This also meant that my nutrition and fluid intake was off, and I had wasted a lot of energy. The next 10 miles went by without incident and soon I was turning south and riding down North Willow Road. I had driven over this road a number of times on trips to Waterloo and Dubuque, but always wanted to ride along on it just to ride by this cool church just to the south of Highway 20.

As I approached  the highway, I saw a rider stopped and was surprised to see Dennis Grelk cleaning dirt out of his cleats. I stopped to chat quickly and then continued on, but it didn't take Dennis long to catch up to me. We worked together for quite a few miles, taking turns pulling into the headwind. I finally had to stop and eat. Dennis pulled over with me and soon we saw a good sized group of riders roll by, including Aaron Gammel, Monika Sattler, and Jana Vavra. We buttoned up and took off after them but they were already quite a ways ahead of us. It was at this point I watched Dennis ride ahead and I decided to switch to survival mode, as I had 3/4 of a bottle of water left, and at least another 15 miles to the checkpoint. An hour later (around 4:30 PM or so) I was rolling down a B-Road, past the photographers and into CP2. As I pulled up to Jeremy and Robert, the stress of the last 3 hours finally caught up to me and I broke down. I was bleeding, dehydrated, under-nourished, and exhausted. All I could do was stand over my bike, let the tears flow and hope to pull myself back together. Jeremy's news that I was 12th coming into the checkpoint actually made me feel worse, as I felt I had no business being in that spot at this point in the event. After a few minutes, and some words with Jeremy, I got myself under control and proceeded to work through  my normal check point procedure. I swapped out cue sheets, ate some food, and drained every last ounce of fluid out of my other three bottles. I had just under a half bottle of water left, 150 miles to go, and it was 10 miles to Gladbrook, and the next convenience store.

TIV9 Race Recap - The Hills of Jasper County

My alarm went off around 2:30 or 2:45 AM - I can't really remember when. I had placed all of my bottles and kit in the bathroom the night before, so that's where I went to prepare myself for the day's events. I moved my bike into the hall while eating a breakfast cookie, set my tire pressures, then knocked on Paul and Vin's door to see how they were getting along. They were mostly set to go, but Paul was getting more beauty shots taken of him by the photographer that Salsa had sent to document his day. It was like being in the middle of a Rapha Continental shoot in some ways ;)

After transferring Paul and Vin's belongings to my room, the three of us rode down Hwy 146 into Grinnell and rolled in to downtown and in front of Bikes to You. The mood around the starting line was much lighter than in past years. The morning's relatively warm, humid, temperature and the forecast for the rest of the race weekend surely was the cause for this. Despite being there for the better part of 30 minutes, I really don't remember too many details. Knowing that I wouldn't see many of these people until Sunday, if at all, I tried to wish the riders I knew good luck. I recall lots of camera flashes going off, and a few people shouting my name. Mostly, I was trying to keep my nerves under control and silently hoping that nothing unexpected would derail the last four months worth of training. The Trans Iowa can deal cruel twists, even when you have prepared properly. Guitar Ted gave some last minute instructions, hopped in the Truck with No Name, and allowed us 5 minutes to our own thoughts before honking his horn and heading south on Broad Street.

The horn startled me out of my thoughts and I found myself clipping in and following everyone else down Broad. Since I opted to not look at the cue sheets the night before, I wasn't really sure where we were headed and just settled in behind everyone else. It wasn't too long before we took a right hand turn, and I realized we were right crossing Hwy 146 close to our hotel. A small group of people were at the controlled intersection cheering for us. Suddenly, Guitar Ted sped away into the morning darkness and it was just us and the gravel.

At the pre-race meeting, Mark mentioned that the first 12 miles were going to be shoulder to shoulder fresh gravel. He wasn't lying. My heart rate jumped from a fairly sedate 125 to 150 bpm as I tried to get my legs and bike beneath me and settle into some sort of reasonable pace. The next few minutes were hectic as our cluster of 90 riders quickly strung out into lines and worked to find the smoothest lines we could. As the fast guys worked their way to the front, I settled into maintainable pace and picked my way around other riders as the hills and the gravel allowed. It was going to be a long day and I was not going to end it early by forcing a pass when it wasn't safe for me or the other riders. During this first few miles, the eyeglasses I was wearing were fogging up to the point they were useless. So much for reading any road signs from a distance. There was a group up ahead, but their pace was faster than what I was comfortable running, and I opted to let them ride away. Soon, the sun was up, and I found myself alone.  I settled into a schedule of drinking every 15 minutes and eating at the top of every hour. I felt that this would be an easy schedule to remember, even as the race wore on and I started to tire. I recall passing the Wittenberg Grange building near Clay Street and Holly Avenue, viewing numerous foggy valleys from above, and seeing photographers at various points on course as we passed by. These things, and the seemingly unending rollers of Jasper County, were what stick out most in my mind from the first section. Parts of the course were used as part of TIV5, as I rode by some of the same spots I sat at to take photos of riders early on. Mark was taking us almost straight east across a good portion of Jasper county, and in the process showing riders just how flat Iowa was.

Before I knew it, I found myself on a long, paved descent and a short section of bike path, rolling into CP1. One of the volunteers took my number, and I remember Ryan Clutter and Chad Quigley asking me how I felt. At this point, I didn't feel like I had ridden 10 miles, let alone 50. I was very happy with my pacing and my nutrition to this point and didn't feel like I had over extended myself in any way. After a few minutes to swap cue sheets and quick restroom break, I turned south and scaled a steep climb to start the second leg, which would take us over 120 miles to an unknown location.

TIV9 Race recap - Pre-Race events

My TransIowa experience started early Thursday with a number of morning errands, a chiropractic adjustment, a stop at Rasmussen Bike Shop, and a pre-race leg massage at Hands on Sports Massage. Afterwards, I went to the airport and awaited the arrival of my of two British guests for the weekend - Salsa team rider Paul Errington and Vin Cox, former holder of the Guinness World Record for biking around  the world. After some initial contact an exchange of emails and messages, they both accepted my offer of both race weekend support, and a cheap place to stay while they were in town. Vin's plane arrived about 90 minutes late due to some mechanical issues, so we opted to hang out at the airport, grab a snack, chat, and wait for Paul. After Paul's flight arrived around 7:30 PM, we picked up his bike in baggage claim, loaded it up on the Explorer next to Vin's, and headed to my house.

Once we arrived home, Paul's anxiousness to get his bike built led to Vin changing his mind and building his too. After opening his case, Vin discovered that American Airlines had damaged his front wheel beyond use. Two minutes later, he had moved his tire and tube over to one of my spare rims, and he was set to go for the race. While they built their bikes, my close friend and our support driver, Scot, cooked a dinner of NY strips, baked potatoes and grilled asparagus. We spent an hour or so eating and talking, until it was time for Paul and Vin to try and get some sleep. My sleep came in short, fitful bursts that night, as my subconscious ran through all of the things I needed to get done before and during the race.

I expected the next morning to be stressful with three of us trying to get things ready for the weekend, but it was quite relaxed. After some coffee, final packing and finishing up the bike builds, we had time to head out to Hy-Vee for breakfast and food supplies for the weekend. We loaded up the bikes around noon and picked up Scot at his house. Next we made a made a quick stop at Rasmussen Bike Shop so I could say thanks to everyone, and so we could snag some last minute bike parts. After a stop at Abelardo's for a delicious burrito, we were on our way. By 4:30, we had arrived, checked-in, secured a 2 PM check-out for Sunday, replaced Paul's MIA bottle lid, and started walking to the Meat-Up. As we started signing the race and media wavers, the day's calmness quickly gave way to anxiety. I suddenly felt 50 pounds heavier and about 3 feet tall. I ordered a beer to help take the tension off and spent the quite a bit of time saying hi to riders, friends and support crew as I saw them. I hadn't seen many of them since last year, so it was good to spend a few minutes catching up with them and wishing them the best for tomorrow. I finally decided that I needed to eat, whether I was hungry or not, so I did the grill thing, and ended up stuffing myself with what appeared to be a 2 pound chicken breast.

After dinner, we all moved to to another room for the pre-race meeting. After introducing the sponsors and volunteers, a raffle was conducted. Then, Mark went over the rules and details for TIV9. I was fortunate enough to win a nice prize package made up of a signed cycling poster, pound of coffee, and pair of socks courtesy of North Central Cyclery. We were each called up by name, and given the first set of cue sheets and nutritional items from, one of the sponsors, Gu Energy. Once all of the names were called, our group headed back to the hotel. I took a few minutes to drive down to Bikes To You and hang out with Coop and bunch of other people for a bit. It was a good opportunity for me to relax and clear my head with friends and fellow riders just a bit more before Saturday morning arrived. Mark arrived a few minutes after me, and Coop presented him with a certificate of appreciation from the Grinnell Chamber of Commerce for bringing TransIowa there. After half an hour or so, I headed back to the hotel. I laid out my kit, prepped bottles, mounted cues, and gave my faithful Salsa La Cruz a final once over. I finally went to bed around 9 PM.

Cold streak

Planned on getting up and out on the road at 7:30 this AM. Despite the wine and beer yesterday, I was up well before 7:30. About then, I looked at the temp and noticed it was hovering around -2F, with wind chills around -14F. I didn't see the sense in going out for a training ride when it was that cold, so I spent the morning with coffee in front of the fire and tending to some small nerd things. 

Ended up leaving home around 1:30 or so and riding the Mukluk 40 miles to Woodward and back, passing through Granger on the way there and back. It was cold (14F) but sunny, so the ride was relatively pleasant.  I took a bit of a break at the Casey's in Woodward and had a slice of pizza, cup of coffee, and a bottle of Hydrive so I had some calories for the ride back. The ride back felt a little bit quicker, even if it actually was about the same speed. 

I put the snow goggles on and tossed my Patagonia micropuff on as an additional layer for the ride back. The snow goggles kept my face warm, but my puff, along with the rest of the layers on my core, was soaked when I got home. I had an Icebreaker merino T on, followed by a 260 weight Icebreaker LS half-zipp merino baselayer, then a medium weight Specialized coat on top. I didn't feel overdressed, as it took me quite a few miles to get warmed up once I left the house. More work is needed on riding in extreme cold and not having dumb things happen to my clothing. The puff, as was expected, shouldn't be worn at all when riding. 

Why am I doing this again?

Got up at 5:30 to try and get out of the house by 6 for a ride. I wanted to try and get 40 miles or so in towards the Rapha Festive 500 Challenge. The idea is to ride 500 km, outside, between Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve.

I remembered that I needed to get the poultry we're having for Christmas dinner into the brine, so I spent 15 minutes wrangling a large goose and brining solution into a large bag while dressed in winter riding gear. Got out of the house sometime after 6. Halfway down the block, I realize I didn't have a helmet on. Turned around, got the helmet on and left. In about the same spot, my light quits working. Ugh, can't be having that at 6 in the morning. Turned around and swapped out batteries. Turned out of my neighborhood and noticed that my left foot isn't staying clipped in. Stop to adjust the pedal tension and check the cleat for crap. Ride another mile and stop to check the pedal tension again and raise the seat a scoshe. I'm now probably 20 minutes into my ride and I've gone all of 1.5 miles. I decide to not take this as a sign to turn around and press on westward towards Dallas Center.

Now I'm noticing the wind, the blowing snow, and the fact that my eyeballs are starting to feel more like ice cubes in their sockets. I pressed ahead in the dark for another mile and a half before I stopped and pulled my snow goggles out of my seat bag. Much better. Get to the point where I normally turn north towards Granger and head onto Woodward and decide that 40 miles is not in the books today with the temp (around 11F) and the wind (NW at 15MPH). Opt to press west to Dallas Center where I can snag some food and then enjoy the tailwind for the return leg. No more delays on the ride, other than biffing it when I hit a ice covered slope right at a stop sign. Coffee and donuts ensued at Casey's along with a side of people shaking their head at the guy on the bike. If I had parked a snowmobile out front, I bet they wouldn't have even given me a second thought.

Return leg was much more enjoyable with the tailwind and the ability to run big-ish gears. Got home just a bit before 9 AM, with 23 miles in the books. 1:41 to get to Dallas Center (7.1 MPH average), and 0:48 to get home (13.7 MPH average. Average temp for the ride was somewhere around 11F, not counting the windchill.

Not the miles I wanted, but better than nothing, and riding the fatbike sure builds leg strength. :)

Dirty Kanza 200 Prep

No posts lately due to spending almost all of my spare time the last month and a half preparing the body and the bike for the Dirty Kanza 200. 12 - 18 hour weeks on the bike have been the norm. It has been tiring, and it has been tough balancing work, home and riding, but I think I have things in a reasonable state, and the date is almost here. Have had a lot of 200 and nearly 300 mile weeks in my legs, with a good mix of short and long rides, plus intervals, gravel rides, and some mountain biking.

I've had some friends along on various training rides, but there's been a lot of riding alone, which is good as it gives me time to focus on my goal, which is to finish this beast of a race in 15 hours - an average speed of 13.6 MPH for 205 miles. This means minimal time off the bike, a flawlessly executed plan at the checkpoints, no hydration or nutrition mistakes, and some luck.

With 2 weeks of training left before a bit of taper before the race, time is running out. My weight is close to where I want it, and I have almost everything dialed in on the bike, other than some lighting decisions. JJ Bailey at Zoom Performance has been instrumental in getting me to where I'm at now. With a few tweaks these final three weeks, I'm going to be in the best shape I've ever been in for this event.

For now, I leave you with this. This beautiful, but isolated scenery is what keeps drawing me back to this race time and time again. You can lose and find yourself out here all at once. Click for a better view.

Spring Training in Decorah

Earlier in the year, Ben Shockey put together plans for a weekend of long hard rides in the Decorah area. Since I wasn't going to Tuscon this year, I thought that this would be a good way to kick up my training for this year's endurance calendar. I sent an email off to Ben and reserved a space for the weekend. Out of the eight or ten takers, only three ended up making the trip: Drew Wilson, Kent Carlson, and me. Kent and I drove up on Thursday morning and arrived at Ben's early in the afternoon. After a quick trip to Decorah bikes to pick up a replacement head and taillights, we headed off to T-Bocks for some pre-ride food. We saw Drew cruise by the bar around 5 PM so we rode the two blocks back to Ben's to meet him.

Local rider Gunner showed up on his Fargo and we headed out from Ben's at 6PM for what turned out to be a 30-35 mile ride. There were a couple of decent sized hills along the way, but for the most part, it was a mellow affair with total of about 2.5 hours of ride time. We got back, headed out to get some stuff for Friday's breakfast, spent some time just BS-ing, and then headed to bed.

Friday morning came and I awoke to the sounds of Ben banging pans full of bacon, hash browns and sausage on the stove. A good way to start the morning. After a breakfast we loaded up and met Gunner downstairs and headed out for a gravel metric to Harmony, MN. The first few miles were an easy pavement warm up and then we hit the first of many miles of wet, but still somewhat firm gravel. Ben threw in some beautiful scenery and gently rolling hills along the Upper Iowa river as well as a couple of brutal climbs to make sure that we remembered where we were at. The final few miles going out were spent cruising through Minnesota Amish country, including a couple of passing buggys, and plenty of wheel tracks along the side of the road. After a quick food stop, we headed back along the same route. The east wind had shifted to the south during our ride and was now our companion for remainder of the day. Big downhills became slow grinds on the way back, with one hill in particular possessing a dreadful combination of steepness and fresh loose gravel. Kent, Ben and Drew were machines on their single speeds and trying to match their pace was causing me to burn a lot of matches both physically and mentally. It didn't take me long to let them ride off and settle into a more comfortable pace and "ride my ride". My mood improved dramatically after that. The rest of my ride included some stops for photos and a lot of taking in the sights more so than having my nose to the grindstone. I finished the ride alone, but maybe only 30 minutes after everyone else. After a shower and a quick bite to eat, we hung out for a bit and then went out for more food and a couple of beers. A huge plate of pasta hit the spot and soon we were back at Ben's and prepping for Saturday's 100 mile suffer fest.

We got up early on Saturday morning for breakfast so we could leave at 7 AM sharp. We headed north from Ben's place, across the river and right up the wall known as Quarry Hill road. I let the fast guys ride off ahead and settled into a comfortable pace up the hill. At the top, we were greeted with a stiff north wind and blowing rain. I could tell this was gonna be a long day as my back had already had a couple of small spasms on the way up Quarry hill. About 15 miles in I decided to pull the plug. The route was only going to get steeper and it was obvious that my back wasn't going to handle the workout for the day. I ended up following some random roads back into town (some of them I'm sure were on TI v4) and spending the rest of the day hanging out in the bike and coffee shops around town. I went out with Ben's wife to meet the guys around mile 85 at a convenience store and waited for them to finish the ride up. After they returned we hit up the local bars and restaurants for food and drinks to celebrate the weekend of fun.

The decision to go up for the weekend of riding was a good one. The Decorah area is beautiful and challenging to ride in. Having like minded folks that are also strong riders made for a challenging weekend too. We're hoping we can get back for another shot at the century course on a nicer day later this year. Have to see how the schedule works out.

3 hour tour

Left BWW at 1:30 PM today with a ton of other guys. Blackford, Basso, Waugaman, Mason, Huerter, Wild Bill, Bach, Doughty, Ryan VH, and Osborn (think that was everyone). It was Chad's ride, but he didn't really have a solid route planned. Seemed like everyone turned to me to ask where we were going and what the pace was gonna be. We headed out of town on 60th St towards Booneville Road. It was quickly obvious that my pace was a lot slower than what most people wanted to ride today. We had some regroups to make sure that everyone was following the same route. Got about 15 miles in when Bach stopped and asked me for a multi tool to fix his loose pedal. Turns out that his pedal somehow got cross threaded and it was pulling out. We pulled it out of his crank arm, got it rethreaded as best as we could, and I sent him on the short route home. His pedal ended up coming out after a large downhill, but by that time, the fast guys had caught up to him and ended up towing and pushing him back. I ended up pulling sweeper duty, catching up to Doughty and Huerter in the process. After helping Terry with a flat, we both just cruised back in for a bit until he told me to go ahead ride without him. Stopped for some coffee with the fast guys before heading home. Got 30 or so miles rolled out in about 3 hours. In the end not a terribly satisfying ride for a number of reasons. Just one of those days I guess. At least the La Cruz is clean and I didn't spend the day inside on the rollers.

Sunday .783 Metric

I left the trailhead behind the Cumming tap this morning at 8 AM sharp. No one else showed up for the planned metric century. I wasn't too surprised as the winds were blowing at 20 MPH and no one else really needs to get outdoor miles this early due to their event schedules. I pulled the bike out of the truck and got down to business. A 1/2 mile of pavement followed by a quick mile jog north got me onto the planned route. I turned west and was blasted by the wind as I crossed the freeway. This wasn't going to be a fun day. My legs were feeling a little heavy, but I finally got into a rhythm and just kept driving west into the wind. I stopped to take a quick drink and realized that I had not heard the beep on my GPS and missed my turn south. Instead of turning back, I opted to keep heading west into the wind since the roads were in decent shape. As I passed near Earlham, I opted to go into town and grab a cup of coffee and a doughnut at Casey's. About that point I realized that I had probably didn't have the legs under me to ride a metric today. I had the hilliest part of the route ahead of me and the roads were starting to get soft under the now visible sun (BTW, it's been a while since we've seen that yellow ball around here). I put my helmet and balaclava back on and retraced the now softer roads back to Cumming. The rest of the ride was uneventful other than the ache in my legs and a couple of "oh crap" moments when my front wheel started washing out on some of the soft gravel downhills. Stopped in the Cumming tap after the ride and had a couple of pints of Fat Tire before heading home.

I would have liked to have gotten a full 62 or so in today, but it just wasn't in the cards for me after the trainer workout yesterday and the headwinds today. I still managed to get a good ride in today, so that's not all bad.

Moonlight ride

Met up with some guys from the Rasmussen and All 9 Yards bike teams tonight for some gravel goodness. 5:30 PM, temps in the 50s (if we were lucky) and a nearly full moon made for good times. The group broke into two not too far into the ride with those of us out for base building taking a right, while those intent on world domination kept on going ahead. We never saw them again. RickB, KrisK, RickN, Chia-Chad, the RoBros, Lippold and myself headed off west towards what was supposed to be Van Meter. Kris and RickN headed south to Booneville as the rest of us continued west to Old Portland Road and then headed north. We eventually made it into Adel and rode the Raccoon River Valley Trail back into town. RickB and I jumped off in Clive and headed south back towards WaterWorks Park where we had parked. I got in 50 miles of good base in, with a couple of pips a bit higher climbing some of the hills. My Specialized Singlecross was a good choice tonight. No gears meant no way to do anything stupid. just kept ticking the pedals over to keep moving. My right IT band feels like it took a lead pipe to it. It's way too sore to do anything with tonight. If it feels good tomorrow, I'll do a light foam roller session to work the tight spots out.

...And so begins "training" for the 2010 season.

CITA's Ales and Trails 2009

Spent Friday night through early Sunday afternoon at Whiterock Conservancy for CITA's second Ales and Trails event. Whiterock is 4300 contiguous acres of oak savannah, prairie, and farmland near Coon Rapids, Iowa. If you are a fan of the outdoors you owe it to yourself to spend some time there. We filled our weekend with camping, mountain biking, a 45 mile gravel road race, a few beers and an evening concert in the riverside barn by Des Moines' ownBrother Trucker.

The gravel road race on Saturday was a lot of fun, if a bit brutal. Squirrel managed to build a course where the B-road sections were the fastest thing we would ride on all day. Very few sections of flat, and a southerly course with a SE wind. After what I thought was a good start, hanging with Dave Lippold to the top of the climb we hit right out of the start, my legs just pretty much gave out. I couldn't get into a rhythm on the climbs and just couldn't get my legs to spin up the way I wanted. Squirrel and I stopped for a mid ride beer at Sammy's car, about 10 minutes behind Dave, and decided to just push in together and try to wrap up second and third spots. Squirrel just dieseled his way along and I yo-yo'd behind on the climbs and caught up on the downhills and on the flats. I had to finally let Squirrel go with about 5 miles or so left and just finish the race out. I ended up finishing in about 3 hours and change. I felt worse after those 45 miles than I did after the 10+ hours of the GLGA a month ago.

On Sunday, Matt McCutchen, Brian Sheesley and I took off after breakfast and spent the next couple of hours just riding around on the double track through Whiterock, taking in the scenery and just having a good time. Screaming fast downhills and some long climbs greeted us almost all of the way into Coon Rapids. On the way back, Brian and I took a different path back that involved some rough pasture land, cows, and barbed wire fence crossings. I hit something in the pasture and developed a slow leak once we were on the gravel back to Whiterock. A quick hit with the CO2 cartridge got me back to the truck and, after a change of clothes, on my way home.

I, and everyone else. had a lot of fun at this years Ales and Trails event. It would have been good to have had more people in attendance. I'm not sure if it's the location, the drive, or something else that prevented us from having more people show up. Hopefully we can increase the number of people, and the fun, for next year's event.

Good Life Gravel Adventure

I took Friday off work and headed over to Lincoln, NE to take part in the second running of the Good Life Gravel Adventure. http://cornbreadblog.blogspot.com/ and the rest of the Lincoln crew hosted a great event. We signed in at the MOPAC trailhead, heard a few words from Cornbread and we were moving around 6:10 AM. We headed east on the MOPAC trail for neutral rollout. However by the time we had reached the end of neutral trail section, a healthy gap had already formed. After turning north onto the first gravel road, I was with a group of about 15 riders and moving along at a solid pace. As soon as we crossed Hwy 34, someone jumped off the front of the group and the pace went from solid to completely crazy. I attempted to stay with the group for the next three miles, but a 175 bpm heart rate was not going to allow me to finish the race. I backed the pace down for the remainder of the first leg into Valparaiso, riding a good portion of it with Joel Dyke, one of the Dirty Kanza organizers. Even so, the first 40 miles were behind us in under 3 hours.

After a short ride north, we turned south, towards the second checkpoint in the tiny town of Malcom. At this point, I started riding with Scott Bigelow. We had started chatting a bit earlier and were riding close to the same pace. We chatted on and off, both enjoying the brief bit of chipseal near Branched Oak Lake. Scott was fresh off a finish at Leadville just a couple of weeks earlier and was still riding strong. He had a bit more power on the steeper climbs we hit but seemed happy to settle in behind me on the many rollers we were still encountering. We hit Malcom in around 75 minutes and made a quick stop in the convenience store. With the next stop just 15 miles down the road, I didn't feel the need to stick around too long, so I took off. Scott joined me a short bit later and we headed towards the third stop in Denton.

Scott and I continued to roll on at a good pace. Not too far from Denton, Warren Wiebe, John Flynn and Kirk Hutson motored on by us. The five of us rode into town together about an hour after leaving Malcom and stopped at the convenience store for a break. With 85 miles behind us, I decided this was a good spot to refuel. I grabbed a bottle of tomato juice, a turkey Lunchable, and some Lemonade and proceeded to sit down for a meal. Soon, I was looking up at the grinning face of Warren Wiebe asking if I had something better than a pair of scissors that he could use to cut a couple of spokes out with. I made some comment about being a mobile toolbox for the Kansas crew. I had loaned some tools out to Joe Fox so he could repair his derailer during TransIowa. At that time, Warren was amazed that I had a chain tool and a hunk of bike chain in my camelback. After that, I handed my side cutters to Warren and returned to eating. I spent the rest of my break stretching and watching Warren and some others use an emergency kevlar spoke kit that I had inadvertantly reminded him he had with him. Since we weren't needed any more, Scott and I took off and headed towards our last checkpoint in Cortland.

Scott and I enjoyed our last section of tailwind. We had a nice 10 mile stretch that had some nice wide rolling hills, complete with a nice couple handing out fresh bananas at the top of a long downhill. More hills and 75 minutes later, Scott and I were outside of the Cenex in Cortland. I went inside, snagged my last Nebraska Powerball ticket, a Snickers ice cream bar, some gatorade and some almonds. We sat down next to Rafal Doloto from Omaha and had a brief chat. Not too long later, Rafal decided to head out on the last leg with Scott and I.

I left Cortland and headed east with Scott and Rafal. We cruised along at a good pace and then finally made the left hand turn north and started a 13 mile push north into the headwind. We all took turns bearing the brunt of the wind, taking pulls for around .5 mile or so. My flagging energy levels forced me to take a breather and eat some food with about 3 miles left in our northward push. After the break, I wasn't able to keep pace with Scott and Rafal so I waved them ahead while I waited for the food to enter my system. About 15 minutes later I was feeling better and began the final 15 mile push to the finish, crossing the finish area at the MOPAC trailhead around 10 hours and 45 minutes after I started.

I had a great time in Lincoln and plan on going back for more rides next year. There's a strong bike culture in the area and the town itself looks like it would be fun to spend some time in. I want to give a big thanks to Oliver and Katie Banta for hosting me for the weekend. Oliver finished the race in just over 13 hours, allowing his time to suffer a bit to make sure that others were ok. A big thank you to Cornbread for putting this thing together, as well as everyone else that was involved in gathering sponsors for the event. This was a great grassroots event.

A big thanks as always to Rasmussen Bike shop for ordering in the weird stuff I ask for, treating me right, and squeezing in a quick adjustment for me when needed.

GPS Track

I'm not dead yet

So yeah. Haven't posted anything in a while. Not that there hasn't been stuff to post about, but I've been too busy watching the tour or doing other things to post a proper write up.

Weekend of the Hy-Vee Tri, I worked one of the wheel pits for Rasmussen Bike Shop for the Pro races on Saturday. Nothing too stressful, just sit and wait for someone to get a flat. Great benefit is that we're out on the course and get to see/hear the athletes up close. Only exciting things were one wreck in the men's race and someone needing a 4mm allen wrench (which we did not have as we were only set up with wheels). 5 hours with my friend and riding partner Rick Blackford, along with some other characters that showed up.

Saturday night found me, Rick, Oakley Rob, Kurt Benson, Josh Newendorp and Kyle Sedore out for a night gravel grinder. Plan was to leave around 10 or 10:30 and just ride somewhere all night and make it back to the hill to properly cheer on friends and strangers taking part in the age group tri. We left near BWW around 10:30 and headed out through Booneville, Cumming (one pitcher shared, one Red Bull each), Martensdale (one pitcher just as last call was coming about), and back on the same route. We stopped in the middle of the ride for some food and to sit and enjoy the night sky. Pace was casual for most of us (no pedaling down the hills and nothing over 16 on the flats). Good times had by everyone. A quick breakfast at McD's, a quick realization that we should have bought and hid our beverages on Saturday night and we spent the next few hours cheering on the triathletes. I met Kathy and Conor for brunch at Gateway Market on the way home and finally pulled into the garage around 11:30 AM on Sunday. A nice 4 hour nap occurred, followed by food. Hope to do another one of those again sometime this year. I love night rides.

On July 17th I left home with camping equipment and my bike in the back of the Explorer and headed out to take part in the 2009 running of the Guitar Ted Death Ride Invitational. I stopped in Waterloo and picked up Guitar Ted and we made our way to West Union where were were camping for the night. GT and I stood/sat around for a while having a few drinks and discussing the finer points of life for a while. David Pals showed up around 8 PM with firewood, food and other libations. More discussions occurred, as well as eating, some make shift grilling, and more drinks. Craig from Europa Bike and Ski showed up not too long after to join in the fun. I hit the hay around 11 PM knowing that our 5:45 AM wakeup call was not too far off. GT and Craig stayed up for quite some time later.

Saturday morning arrived and I hopped out of my tent to find DP cranking up his stove and making coffee. I started my supercat stove up and boiled some water for oatmeal, while taking advantage of DP's generous offer to boil more water for my coffee. Oatmeal made, coffee drank and with the addition of Jeremy Fry and Doug Eilderts we were off around 7 AM. We descended through and them climbed out of the park and headed east towards the Turkey River valley and Elkader. The first couple of miles had some neat rollers and then we dropped about 400' into the river valley. On the descent, figured out that I needed to adjust my disk brakes a bit since I wasn't able to bleed off a lot of speed on the downhill. GT and I both almost ended up in the ditch due to speed and the road surface. Exciting start to the ride for sure. The rest of the ride into Elkader was nothing short of beautiful. 25 miles of gently rolling, scenic river valley with plenty of trees and lots of limestone walls. We took a refuel break in Elkader and headed out into the hills. The rest of ride sat somewhere between difficult and borderline insanity. We had dirt roads descents with rocks the size of human heads, climbs well over a mile long, descents that needed to be preceded by warning signs, and after a while. we were happy to see uphill gradients in the 7 - 8 percent range. We stopped in Strawberry point for lunch, cruised through Volga, and made a final stop in Wadena for a much needed coke, ice cream and other food break. We arrived back in West Union around 8:00 PM. We cleaned up, broke camp and headed out around 9 AM. I dropped GT off at his place around 10:30 PM and made the drive home by myself, with tunes blaring out of my iPod. I got home around 12:30 AM, cleaned up a bit and dropped into bed. 118 miles and 10,000 feet of climb for the day. My Salsa La Cruz treated me well all day. Climbed well, cruised on the flats quickly. Now if the rider can match the bike, things will work out well.

Good friends, good food, and good ride = good times.

Route Link
Photos

The Dirty Kanza 200

This was a long race. The report is long as well.

"The Dirty Kanza 200 is a 200 mile gravel road race in the Flint Hills area of eastern Kansas." After reading this sentence, most people would have found something else to do on the last day of May. After noting that a compass, front and rear lights, and two spare inner tubes are required equipment to start the event, any sane cyclist would have decided to attend the IORCA/Psycowpath race at Lake Manawa instead. Not being a member of either of these groups meant that I was one of 75 people signed up to take part in the 3rd running of the Dirty Kanza 200.

I left Des Moines at noon on Friday after a quick stop at Rasmussens to boost my spare tube count and nutritional choices. The drive to Emporia, KS was uneventful as all 5 hour solo trips on the freeway are. After unloading my stuff, I spent the next hour or so talking to the other riders and going over my bike, camelback, and mid-race drop back to make sure I hadn't missed anything important. A quick trip to the hardware store netted me some bungee cords to mount my the spare tire I brought, and everything was in order. Event registration was quick and efficient, a common theme for the race organizers the remainder of the weekend. A number of us took a short walk over to the Centinela Mexican restaurant for some pre-ride carb loading. After dinner we snagged our event shirt (brown is the new black) and hung around for the prize drawing. I was one of the lucky winners and received with a Blackburn X6 lighting system. Fellow endurance racer Dennis Grelk set the alarm for 5:15 AM and we crawled into our beds around 10 PM for a few precious hours of sleep.

Saturday morning greeted us with gray skies, comfortable temps and some extra humidity in the air. I rode to the parking lot, put my drop bag in the pile. I spend the next few minutes chatting with other riders, watching the lightning in the southern sky, and waiting for the race meeting to start. The meeting started off with the announcement that the storms to the south contained tennis ball sized hail and the race start could be delayed until 8 AM. A few minutes later, with the storm tracking away from our route, we were off. The first couple of miles were a comfortable 16 MPH cruise through town with a police escort leading the way. Though, with morning traffic levels being what they were, it was a symbolic gesture at best. A half mile or so south of Emporia, we turned west onto the first section of gravel and dirt, which ran along a low lying field. As we kicked up a large cloud of dust, the starting group of 70 riders quickly split into distinct sections as people settled in on a pace. The first group of 25 or so riders was moving along around 18 - 19 MPH. The second group of 20 or so, which I moved up into which was running around 16 MPH. The third group was moving around 14 or 15 MPH, with a few riders strung out of the back. As I was talking with another rider, I heard a noise coming from my back wheel. Barely 5 miles into the race and I had gotten my first flat. I pulled over, inspected the tire for debris and replaced the tube as the last two riders asked if I had everything I needed and then rode on. The infamous flint of eastern Kansas had claimed it's first victim of the day.

After completing the tire change, I got back on the bike, and missed the next turn by misinterpreting my location on the map. This mistake cost me about 30 minutes and added about 8 miles to my route. One back on course, I proceeded to pick up the pace and dig in for the remainder of the section. My mistake had eaten into my time cushion and I wanted to get some of that back in case I ran into issues later on. I settled into a quick but maintainable pace for the remainder of the first 50 miles. There were a number of shorter, punchy climbs in the early part of the course due to the topography and how the water drains off the limestone and flint hills. The flint hills do not bend to your will, your will bends to them. After three crossings of the Kansas turnpike, the course entered the first of many sections of open range area. I crossed the first cattle grate carefully, not knowing what to expect. For the remainder of the day, they weren't a factor. I rode onto the streets of Madison with a couple of other riders and arrived at the first checkpoint shortly after 10 AM. A floor pump at this checkpoint allowed me to vent all CO2 out of my back tire and pump it back up to proper pressure. I had a quick chat with Thad Hoffman and some of the other Lincoln riders as we took a break. Thad had put a good wobble in his front rim going through a water crossing, and was forced to use his bike as a shield against a charging bull in one of the open range areas soon after. I snagged some PowerAde from the Casey's, and rolled out just behind Thad and the rest of his group around 10:45 for the start of the second leg.

About 2 miles outside of Madison, we turned south onto what the county road crews had optimistically labeled a "minimum maintenance road". At the bottom of a somewhat rough hill was a 4' deep drainage area with a steep water chiseled rock hill on the other side. After walking the bikes across and up the hill, we got continued our ride. We had been informed that the reroute on this section and might not be marked that well. Some misreading of the map detoured us off course for a couple of miles, but the decision was driven by the group so we had no one to blame but ourselves. After getting back on course we found the reason for the redirect. 5 feet of water rushing across one of the many concrete high water crossings that dot the landscape in this part of country. Soon we entered another open range area and started a long multi-mile climb to the top of what the locals call Texaco Hill. With the single speeders needing to stay on top of their pedal strokes, the pace was a bit higher than I wanted to maintain so I sit back and find a comfortable pace for the long climb, passing one lone rider about 1/3 of the way up. With 75% of the climb beneath me, I felt something striking my right ankle. I looked down to see that my seat tube water bottle cage had fatigued and snap off. I removed the cage, stowed the water bottle in my camelback and finished off the climb. Turning a corner at the top of the hill, I noticed a dead cow laying next to the road. About 40 feet further along was where the stench and the route intersected. I picked up the pace to minimize my misery, and then stopped to snap some souvenir photos along the ridge. I was told this was a stage coach route in years past. With a view like this, I can understand why. Leaving the reroute, my energy was waning slightly, so I ate a package of Clif Shot Blocks. I'm not sure what they put into them, but it didn't take long for my energy levels to return to normal. Another rider and I passed Thad's group not too soon afterwards. One of them had rolled a tire going around a corner. With everything under control, we rolled on. Not too far up the road my riding companion appeared to have a broken spoke. It turned out to be a piece of fence sticking out of his rear tire. He pulled out his cell to call for help and told me to keep rolling on as he was stopping at mile 100 anyway. The rest of this section was uneventful, other than a short standoff with some cows, and another flat tire courtesy of the Kansas flint. Thankfully, I was able to change it standing under a nice shade tree. The Lincoln crew rolled by as I was finishing up, and we rolled into checkpoint 2 around 2:30 PM.

Checkpoints 2 and 3 were at the same location, the city park in the town of Cottonwood Falls. The race organizers had erected a tent underneath some excellent shade trees. I took some extra time here to get gear out of my drop bag, clean the accumulated salt and dust off of my face and neck, and just generally relax for a bit before starting the 3rd leg. Ten minutes after I arrived, eventual record setting winner (and national 24 hour mountain bike champion) Cameron Chambers rolled back in to start his final leg. He was in the checkpoint about 10 minutes before he took off. A sobering look at the performance gap between national caliber athletes like Cameron and normal guys like me. My legs were feeling very good at this point, with no real aches or pains. My lower back, on the other hand, was making it's distaste for the day's activity known so I took some extra time before leaving to stretch. The RD's warned us that someone might be altering the course markers on this section, and that we should pay extra attention to the map. I left around 3:30, riding by myself, again. I had not even made it to the edge of town when I saw three riders coming back towards me. Afraid I had made a wrong turn, I asked them what was going on. They had turned around and decided to call it a day. I soldiered on, wondering what might lay ahead on the route.

The first 10 miles or so alternated between west and south, allowing the southwest wind to make its presence known. About mile 112, I ran into Thad's group along with David Pals discussing if they were on the right road. I offered my opinion that they were, and we moved ahead. The road quickly changed from gravel to parallel dirt paths in grass. To the right, a crow and a buzzard hungrily stared down at us from the top of a ranch gate, A few yards further down a hill would see us riding through the worst section of road of the ride. We went from dirt to mud and rock. Then the hill became steeper and the surface became water ruts filled a combination of dirt and hunks of 2" - 3" fill rock. At the bottom we were greeted some well water worn ground rock and a water crossing with more water worn rock on the other side. Two more water crossings later, and we were out of the worst of it. A couple of long climbs were next and Thad's group would be off again. About mile 126 I stopped and talked with Steve (also from Lincoln), whom I had briefly chatted with just as the race started. I was feeling pretty down at this point and let him go on his way even though he was encouraging me to get on the bike and pedal. I was standing next to a highway, staring at another long climb and finally snapped. I called home to get a bit of encouragement from my wife only to find that she neither home nor answering her cell phone. I left a very haggard sounding message on the answering machine, ate three more Shot blocks and soldiered on. I had no one to come and get me, and if I had to ride back to Emporia, I figured I might as well follow the route. Again, I don't know what is in those Clif Shot blocks, but it works. After the climb up the hill, I got into a good rhythm and I could see Steve up ahead. At mile 138, the road turned back east towards Emporia and the surface turned into well smoothed chipseal. After almost 140 miles of gravel, it was a welcome sight. After catching up to Steve, we chatted for a bit, and he told me not to slow down on his account. While I appreciated the gesture, I was definitely tired of riding with and talking to myself. We soldiered on at a reasonable pace, cruising the river valley and asking ourselves if we were going to make the time cut off, and would we continue on if we did. At the end of the valley we came to another big stair stepped climb with some radio towers on top. I rode about a third of the way up before my back and butt had both said enough, and I climbed out of the saddle and proceeded to walk the next half mile of the climb. Steve joined me in the "walk of shame". However you want to look at it, it provided me a much needed mental and physical break. Steve and I rolled back into Cottonwood Falls with no further incidents, reaching the checkpoint at 8:30 PM, 30 minutes before close.

At this time, I seriously considered calling it quits. I was tired, my butt hurt, and I just didn't see how I could carry on to the finish. I pulled my phone out to call my wife and let her know that I had made it in OK and to apologize for the message I left. I had no cell signal in Cottonwood Falls thanks to AT&T's fabulous "5 bars of coverage", but I happened to notice my text message count had increased dramatically since I had left Cottonwood Falls 5 hours earlier. I was fortunate enough to have had some fellow Iowa riders send me some words of encouragement while I was out suffering. Paul, Squirrel, and Tom, I cannot thank you guys enough for taking the time to send those. They were a huge factor in my decision to finish the race. Having made the decision to continue, I went to Casey's, grabbed some PowerAde, two bottles of water for my camelback, and a slice of pizza. In retrospect, I should have had two slices because their pizza is also a wonder fuel for long rides. However, I wasn't sure how my stomach was going to handle pizza, so I took the cautious approach. A liberal application of chamois butter, a quick purge of everything unnecessary from my camelback and I was out final checkpoint (by myself) at 9:05 PM. I caught up with a group of three riders at about mile 160 and quickly decided that I was riding with them the rest of the way in. I'm not sure if it was the food, the companionship, or the cool night air, but my legs started getting their snap back and I found myself quickly ticking off the miles and feeling better the longer we went on. For the rest of this segment we were treated to a wonderful light show from the storms southeast of Emporia, as well as some beautiful star filled skies I have viewed in a long time. We crossed a dam at the end of a small lake, proceeded to finish off the one last long climb on the route and turned east. We passed through Americus and soldiered on through one last challenging road section about a mile or so in length. Think of a wet mud road torn up by off-roaders and tractors and you'll have a good idea of what we rode through.

At mile 195 we turned onto the last section of gravel. At this point, the fact we were in a race took over, even though I had well over 200 miles on my legs. I picked the pace up from 14 to 18 mph to see if anyone else had anything left in their legs. Our group went from 4 to 3 fairly quickly. I upped it a bit more to around 20 and that whittled the group down to me and Oliver from Lincoln. We slowed briefly to see the remainder of Thad's group changing a last mile flat. After learning they were on top of it, we went back to the task at hand. The last small rise to climb over I-35 broke me. I was unable to keep my speed up over the crest and Oliver opened got a gap on me that I just wasn't able to close in the final 3 blocks. I yelled "great sprint" to him and eased up, rolling across the finish line just behind Oliver. Just over 19 hours after my first pedal stroke Saturday morning, I had finished the Dirty Kanza 200, and beat my private time goal of 20 hours.

UPDATE: Results have been posted. I was 36th out of 42 finishers with a total time of 19:06:48. There were 24 DNF's this year.

I put my bike down, grabbed a cold drink from the cooler and waited for other riders to come in. A Burger King run on the bike for some hard earned greasy food, some additional chatting with Matt Gersib and the race promoters, and a shower put me into bed around 2:30 AM.

Since this was my first shot at an event like this, I had counted on this being a learning experience.


Things that worked:
-------------------

My bike fit by Donny Quixote at Rasmussen Bike Shop. I had no hamstring or quad tightness issues for the entire ride. The bike fit is really spot on right now. I have no one to thank for this other than Donny. Anyone riding events like this that hasn't had a fit done is really missing something important.

Dinotte LED lights. I used a 200L on my handle bars and a second 200L on my helmet as a spot, both powered by Lithium ion batteries. Lightweight, excellent battery life (4+ hours on high for both head lamps with no signs of fading), and a kick ass tail light. These worked every bit as well as I had hoped they would. Someone on the last leg commented that it was like having a car behind him.

WTB Nanoraptor tires. For a MTB, I think this was one of the best tire choices for this race and these conditions. There was enough bite to feel comfortable in the sand, and on the rocks, and the center ridge line really helped with the speed on the packed sections.

Clif Shot Blocks. Whatever is in them, they worked magic for me multiple times during the race.

Things that didn't:
-------------------

Nutrition. I ate and drank, but I know that I need to improve in this area if I do more of these events. My lack of
discipline really caused me issues on the 3rd leg of the race.

Storage. You can eat better if your food is easy to get to. Jersey pockets under a camelback are not easy to get to. A frame bag is. One will be on the way shortly.


I have to give a hearty congratulations and thank you to the people from the Heartland Race Series that put this event on. The course was well marked, the event ran smoothly, and even though this was a self supported event, their concern for everyone's safety and well being was very apparent.

A big thank you to the rest of the racers I competed against and the people that I have trained with leading up to this event. You are what make the long hours in the saddle and events like this enjoyable.


Other DK Race reports
---------------------
Cameron Chambers (1st place overall)
Joshua Stamper (1st Place SS)
Matt Gersib (5th overall)
Steve Goetzelman
Mike Beck (4th Place SS)
Endurosnob
Michelle
Micah