TN 600k (375 miles) – Scottsville, KY – Sat., May 22-Sun., May 23
Adventure awaited us on the Cumberland Falls 600k
Foggy roads, a waterfall, two ferry boat crossings, sink holes on closed roads, night-time hill climbs with 15 percent grades, and a rampant raccoon were just some of the experiences we had on the 375-mile bicycle brevet ride around Kentucky.
The 600-kilometer unsupported ride on May 22, 2010 was about as unusual as the drive to the start in Scottsville, just a hair over the Tennessee border. There’s no direct way to get to Scottsville from the Atlanta area, especially with roads closed because of sink holes and two-lane highways that disappear and curvy, twisty roads we had to take on a spontaneous detour.
And what was even more strange was the gypsy camp, or what looked like one, in Westmoreland, Tennessee where on this particular Friday afternoon, people stopped their vehicles and started selling purses, graveside plastic flowers and hot dogs.
We would’ve stopped to shop, but 2:30 a.m. was going to be the start to an early day since our ride started at 4 a.m. And since we planned to ride the entire course with no sleep, shopping at a roadside flea market was not on the “To Do List.”
After a restful four hours of sleep, we awoke and started the ritual of preparing for a long ride – breakfast, coffee, securing lights and supplies to the bikes, and stashing thousands of calories in our jersey pockets and on our bikes.
Fourteen of us thrill seekers rolled promptly at 4 a.m. into the thick, wet fog. I usually start to relax once the chaos of preparing for a ride has subsided. But with the darkness and fog and fast, gradual descent, I was white-knuckled and tense and hoping I had safely secured everything to my bike.
My brakes made a sssshhhhhh sound when I squeezed them as water on the rims kept the brakes from catching. It had obviously rained pretty hard overnight, but fortunately it had stopped. About 90 minutes later, I was reminded how much I enjoy doing these rides. The soft pink hues of the sunrise revealed plush green farm lands and a rainbow of colors from blooming flowers. And the roads before us twisted and turned in wide, sweeping curves. Many times we rode two abreast and chatted with the rider next to us.
Each rider was equipped with lights, as well as supplies in carry bags or stashed on their bikes. We all reached often into our jersey pockets to begin the incessant calorie intake necessary to survive a ride like this that was not only going to take at least 30 hours to ride, but would require thousands of calories.
It was definitely turtle season in Kentucky. A couple of us pulled over and circled back to move turtles that had stopped in the middle of the road. The one I picked up quickly closed his shell’s door and hid while I placed him in the grass. But it wasn’t long after that that I realized saving the Earth’s turtles on this ride was going to be difficult. This obviously was a fertile turtle area because they were everywhere and several were already casualties.
Foggy morning just before sunrise near the Mammoth Caves Park.
Our group rolling together before sunrise.
Still in the wee hours past sunrise, the area wildlife came alive. Birds chirped and swooped all around us. Buzzards hurried off the roads as we approached them pecking at carcasses. Turkeys watched us ride by. And a rampant raccoon darted into our pack. Slowing! We warned our fellow riders. I had a front seat to witness Jeff completely running over it. He overcame a mild bike wobble and kept on going as the raccoon scampered to the other side of the road.
Jeff, the Raccoon Rider, (on the right) leads the group early on Saturday morning.
Well this was a new experience – a ferry boat crossing on a brevet. And there were going to be two of them. The first one, at mile 40, came after we descended into a foggy hole. We waited as instructed at the white line for the ferry boat operator to give us his approval to board. Two riders in our group were a little behind us, so the 12 of us went across, what looked like a flooded road and not a river, and exited the other side to a mile-long climb.
Boarding the ferry.
Me and David
The second control point was at Nolin Lake, Kentucky at mile 56.7. From the looks of it, the Nolin General Store is where locals go to smoke cigarettes and talk about the weather. And I’m sure we were a topic of discussion after 12 sweaty cyclists stormed this small store restocking water and food and running to the restroom.
A Kentucky pig farm. A least that's what the sign said.
Nine riders went on while David, Ed and I finished eating and drinking and taking our time. Although the three of us rolled together, it wasn’t long before Ed was a tiny speck in the distance. I wanted to keep up but I knew that for me a 600k wasn’t about trying to keep up with other people. It’s about riding my own pace and conserving energy.
So David and I enjoyed the scenery and chatted as we rolled along the countryside.
Kentucky scenery.
Big homes with pretty green grass.
We laughed when we saw Happyville Road. And then the laughing stopped on Blowing Springs Road with its short, steep climbs. I remember thinking that Blowing Springs Road really blows. But that road turned out to be a bump compared to what was waiting for us later in the ride.
I got my rhythm and groove on the three-mile climb on Campbellsville Road. Big gears and standing, the climb felt so easy and I felt so strong. Yes! These are the types of climbs I like I thought, hoping there would be more climbs like this one. There weren’t.
About 30 miles later at mile 140 I started feeling shaky and weak. I was already tired of eating gels and bars and wanted some “real food.” Fortunately, we found a country store where we stopped to eat a slice of pepperoni pizza and drink a Coke. That’s what I needed! The temperature was rising and the sweat on my arms dripped in droplets as I sat on the shady porch. A few minutes later, we were riding again and I felt better.
David rode strong and effortlessly the entire ride.
I decided to let him go on so I could take some pictures. 
We got more “real food” 35 miles later at McDonald’s. This ride was starting to look like a real eat fest! I had my usual brevet food – hamburger, fries and a Coke – and felt like I might actually survive this ride.
Before McDonald's.
After McDonald's!
David wondering what was in my burger. ???
Not long after we started riding again, we came across our first road closure. Hundreds of people gathered just down the road at the square in Somerset, Kentucky for an antique and muscle-car show right on the path we needed to take.
We convinced a teenage festival bouncer to let us ride through the crowd since we didn’t know another way to get back on course. We rolled through crowds of people meandering the streets looking at cars while they ate hot dogs and ice cream.
Car show in Somerset, Kentucky.
I got behind a man driving a Pacer through the crowd. I guess these people had never seen a bicycle parade at a car show before. Once on the other side, David and I regrouped and continued on.
The overnight control at the Eagle Falls Resort in Parkers Lake, Kentucky was next to the Cumberland Falls Park. Since our ride was named the Cumberland Falls 600k, I wanted to see the falls. We climbed and descended and passed the entrance to the falls in our enthusiasm to get to the overnight control point. But I didn’t come this far to miss seeing the highlight of the ride. So we went back to take some pictures.
Cumberland Falls
Some riders had planned to get a room and get some sleep here. And when I arrived, that seemed like a great idea since it had been a difficult 223 miles. But our goal was to keep on moving. We were there for about an hour and a half eating pizza and drinking water and Cokes, changing clothes, taking a baby-wipe bath, replenishing supplies, changing light batteries, and rinsing contact lenses.
Everybody rushing to get ready to roll by 9 p.m.
About an hour after getting here and dreading heading back on the road, I felt much better. I ate a couple slices of pizza, fed a sandwich to a begging dog and was ready to roll at 9 p.m. I kept telling myself that we only had 152 miles left. But I had no idea it would be as difficult as it was.
Kevin at the overnight control preparing food for the hungry cyclists.
Our friendly volunteers who provided food and drinks and even cake!
Steve and Jeremy arrived before us and were waiting to ride with us throughout the night. The ride coordinator had warned us that by leaving at night instead of taking a sleep break, we would ride for a while with no access to stores. Fortunately we all carried extra food in our pockets because it would be eleven hours before we found anything that was open!
Just 14 miles after leaving the overnight control, we came to a T intersection and turned right. About five minutes later, Steve was hollering about a wrong turn. I looked at my cue sheet and it appeared like we had taken the correct turn so I continued on. Then Jeremy called me and said there was a problem. When I turned around, I saw the three of them in a pow wow studying the map. Steve was trying to access a map on his phone but instead we did the next best thing. Ask the locals. Yep, there was an error on the cue sheet. One note said to go left and the other said to go right. Turns out we were going in the wrong direction. Good catch, Steve! Good thing the four of us were riding together. Between the four of us, we had one functioning brain!
Riding at night can be quiet and peaceful and the springtime southern temperatures are so pleasant in the evenings. But the fog came back and so did the curvy descents. I was definitely being a girl here and had no desire to blast downhill past my level of comfort. So I stayed back at a safe distance to watch the three men navigate the turns.
The cyclist in the back of the pack has a job of calling “car back” whenever there’s an approaching car. Riders ahead can’t determine if the lights they see are car lights or bike lights. I don’t know where all these people were going, but on a long, curvy descent there was a parade following us. And they couldn’t pass so they were stuck riding behind the four of us watching our glowing reflective ankle bands going up, down, up, down, up, down as we pedaled.
We finally found a place to pull over and let the parade pass. They waved and smiled as if this was a usual sight in Kentucky in the middle of a foggy night.
Being the efficient cyclists we are, we took this time off the bike as a nature stop. Being careful to turn off headlamps and headlights, we all found our spot for a moment of roadside privacy. Then it was time to climb out of this hole into which we had descended.
I started to notice a pattern. Long, curvy descents were followed by short, steep climbs. And they kept coming and coming. Between 2 a.m. and 4 a.m. I was in hell. My speeds plummeted to 4 mph as I zigged and zagged the road, standing, pushing and pulling and using every bit of strength I had to go forward and not topple over.
Then another descent and another climb. And I thought this one was going to win. Someone said “walk” and I said, “I am!” That is until Jeremy stated that no one was walking. Well damn. I guess that’s that. I wasn’t going to have these men pedal up this hill while I walked, so I forced myself to use everything I had to get up this climb while David appeared to effortlessly float to the top.
Then Jeremy blazed past me, followed by Steve as he said that we needed to “regroup” at the top, meaning let’s stop so we can breathe. Earlier Jeremy had told me that his longest ride before this one had been 75 miles. Yeah right, Jeremy. I was doubting that even more the further we rode. And he also told me that nothing hurt and that he felt great.
Here I was in my fifth year of doing long rides and fighting through pains in my back and wrists, and the newbie is breezing up the hills. It was a real treat watching him ride. I finally believed that he was new on the bike when he would constantly end up stuck in the big ring on a steep climb. Poor thing. I wanted to give him a quick lesson in shifting, but I couldn’t catch up to him long enough. Maybe next time.
It took us seven hours to go 75 miles – a blazing 10.7 mph. It was 4 a.m. in Albany, Kentucky. No one drove through this town. And all the stores were dark. The only sounds were the ones we made refilling our water bottles at the Coke machine.
Enjoying a cold Coke at 4 a.m. in Albany, Kentucky.
It didn’t take long to get chilled after we had stopped. I was cold and hungry and really wanting to be in a warm bed and I kept thinking, what the hell was I doing out here?! But I kept my whining to myself. My secret to staying warm is to stuff plastic bags down the front of my jersey. I reached for a bag in the garbage can next to me. It was covered in food slime so I put it back. David had been thinking the same thing because he reached into the garbage can just as I told him I’d already checked that bag.
He disappeared for a few minutes and came back with multiple bags he had found in other garbage cans. How sweet he was to give me my own set of bags! I quickly stuffed them down my jersey and got ready to roll again. Steve and Jeremy picked up on our tip and stuffed bags into their jerseys, too.
I just needed to survive 44 more miles to the next town where a McDonald’s biscuit was waiting for me. The hills came at us again. Once again I struggled to get to the top before gravity could drag me down. The second ferry crossing was at mile 332. Without giving it much thought, we made a right turn onto a road with a big sign that said, Road Closed except to local traffic. I figured we would be OK since I considered ourselves local traffic. We finally got on a fun road. David stopped to take off his jacket. Steve and Jeremy stopped with him while I went on.
It was one of those roads where after you climb one hill, all you need is momentum to get to the top of the next and so on and so on. Wow! That was fun. I blasted through there thinking there’s no way the three of them would catch me until I got to the ferry crossing.
You know that feeling you get when someone is watching you? I had that feeling and didn’t look around until I heard a soft click from a shifter. I had been caught. I heard them say something about a bull’s eye on my back. Oh well. At least we finally got some miles knocked out.
Once again we descended and I was leading our group down the hill. Road work signs warned us of uneven pavement. We gingerly rode through some gravel and then around a curve to find that there was no pavement, but a huge sinkhole.
David's not down there, is he?
Well, this was a new experience. Navigating a closed road with a huge sink hole!
Steve enjoying the humor of the situation.
We dismounted and started walking through the rocks and sinkhole and bulldozers and hoped we wouldn’t have to walk too far, or even worse, turn back. Fortunately, the pavement returned and took us to the Turkey Neck Bend Ferry Crossing.
We waited at the white line as instructed on the sign. But the ferry boat operator couldn’t see us through the fog. We had a cell phone number on our cue sheet, but none of us had a signal. So I walked up the hill and got a signal, but the phone number went directly to someone’s voicemail.
David was trying to send Morse code with his bike lights. I yelled with no luck. And then I had an idea. “On the count of three,” I told the group, “yell ‘hey!’ as loud as you can.” One. Two. Three. ”HHHEEEEYYYY!!!!” Our combined voices blasted across the water, to the ferry boat operator, echoed through the canyon and came back to us. It was enough to wake him and a couple of minutes later, he was motoring towards us. “Teamwork,” I told them. That’s what this ride was shaping up to be.
Me, David, Steve and Jeremy on a short ride on the Turkey Neck Bend Ferry.
Nine miles later we ran into the McDonald’s. In our rush we ignored the stares of inquisitive customers who looked at our sweat-soaked bodies, gravel and grit on our arms and legs, mud on our shoes and salt-stained shorts. After 11 hours of no stores or restaurants, this McDonald’s in Tompkinsville, Kentucky was an oasis in the desert. That had to have been the best McMuffin I’d ever tasted! I wanted more but figured I’d had enough to get me the remaining 34 miles. How hard could it be? It was only 34 miles. It couldn’t be as hard as the past 118, which took us 11 hours to complete.
Damnit! I thought as the hills came at us again. It was already getting hot and it was only 9 a.m. While I was tired and ready to eat, shower and nap, I was so thankful we had ridden throughout the evening. At least I couldn’t see how steep those hills were. And we were a little chilled and not roasting in the heat.
At 10:42 a.m. Sunday we finished the ride. That was 30 hours, 42 minutes after we had started. (Results are here). As typical with rides like this, we quickly got off the bike and stood there babbling and wondering what to do next. Eat? Shower? We were welcomed by George and Scott who had left the overnight control two hours before us. They had finished only 27 minutes before us after they decided to take a detour instead of chancing riding on a closed road. Steve, George, Scott and I sat in the room eating whatever we could grab and babbled incessantly about a closed road and missed turn.
I had eaten just enough to replenish my body for a few minutes before I headed to the shower to scrub off the Kentucky dirt, mud and bugs. It was about noon when we laid down for a two-hour nap before we had to pack the car and drive six hours home.
It would be about five hours after we finished before the next riders came in. I felt for them knowing they were on steep climbs in the hottest parts of the day. Twelve of the 14 starters finished the ride. It was definitely epic. There were tests of mental and physical strengths. And teamwork and camaraderie. And it was my fastest 600k finish time by two and a half hours! But most of all it was a ride where I looked deep within myself and discovered that I am strong and determined. And maybe a little bit odd. But I’m in good company with others who seek the same thrills and adventures in this crazy world of brevets.
GA 300k (190 miles) – Gainesville, GA – Sat., April 17
Fellow racing cyclists will spend the money to upgrade their components to shave grams from the weight of their bicycle in order to erase seconds from their finish times. But I wonder how much those same cyclists would pay to finish a ride two hours, 21 minutes faster?!
Well that’s what I did. My secret… I kept moving. Quick, efficient stops at the controls. Riding in the aerobars often and in a tight body position. And working harder on the climbs instead of spinning in my 32 cog. Of course, the other usual factors such as staing on top of my nutrition helped, too.
The ride immediately started fast on the five-mile rolling/gradual climb out of the parking lot. I left a couple of seconds after the 13 other riders after having to make a quick adjustment. Knowing I needed to be in the draft, I took off to catch the group and worked harder than usual. But I caught up after a few minutes and enjoyed the effortless work. The right turn onto the next road was a frenzy. Speeds were amping up as everyone’s adrenalins were firing! Down the hills, up the hills, down and then a log jam on the next climb. David and Greg had been leading the pack and now they stalled and climbed at an easier pace. I almost went around them, but thought that would be pointless just to be passed again.
Plus I figured they had a reason to go slower here, so I held back as a couple of other riders went around me. In the next 10 seconds, I heard a loud pop from behind me and then on the descent, I saw a rider sitting upright in the grass on the left near the bottom of the hill. My mind justified that this rider had a flat and was now fixing it. Obviously, that’s absurd, but that’s what I thought at that brief moment of chaos.
Turns out it was fellow brevet cyclist, and world-famous ditch-napper, Ian, who had crashed on that descent. I found out later that he had broken his collarbone. The pop behind me was another cyclist who flatted. Our Augusta ride coordinator, Andy, stopped with Ian and ended up not doing the ride. And another cyclist got lost, so it was down to 11 riders.
–> to be continued
TN 400k (256 miles) – Manchester, TN – Sat., April 10
After doing this same ride last year, I knew what was out there waiting. Seven big climbs, over 15,000 feet of climbing and an expected 19+ hours on the bike.
But on a lighter note, I knew this course was going to be beautiful. We rolled from Manchester, TN to Beersheba Springs, TN; Summerfield, TN; South Pittsburg, TN; Cooper Heights, GA; Trenton, GA; Stevenson, AL; and Winchester, TN.
We rolled past green pastures, old country stores, horses, cows, and the same two swans I saw last year. The temps were in the high 30s at the start, but warmed up nicely into the low 70s and sunny. My sexy summer bike tan is coming along nicely this year.
The best part of starting a ride before sunrise is seeing the sunrise.
There were only eight of us on this epic ride and we rode together for a little while at the beginning until I realized that Robert’s brisk pulling pace was starting to wear on me way too early in the ride…as in less than 20 miles in! So I backed off and decided I needed to stick with riding my own pace.
Chris Quirey is riding strong and enjoying the morning.
Not long after that my mind was telling me that I should be going faster than I was and that something must be wrong with my bike.
Convinced something was wrong, I stopped to double-check that my new brake pads weren’t rubbing my new Mavic Aksium wheelset. Annoyed, I saw they were rubbing slightly. At least that’s what I thought anyway. David didn’t seem to believe me because on most every ride within the first 50 miles I feel like something is wrong. I’m breathing too hard. The pedals are too hard to turn. The hills are too tired. I’m out of shape. All of these go through my mind and then, before I know it, I’ll be at 100 miles and wondering how I rode the last 50 miles with ease.
The control stop at Beersheba Springs, TN.
I assumed I wouldn’t see any other riders on the course today other than David. But surprisingly, we saw a couple of riders just pulling into the first control stop at Beersheba Springs, TN. And a few other riders were there, as well. I nearly had to loosen my helmet to fit in the big smile I had on my face! So it wasn’t me or my bike that I could blame. It was the gentle climb that led into a bigger climb that I can thank for feeling so tired so early on.
Now that we had caught back up to a majority of the group, I was able to do what I refer to as “setting into the ride.” Mentally I was preparing myself to ride the remaining 220 miles with confidence. Lately I’ve noticed that if my confidence is lacking, my ride is going to be difficult. Friends ask how I can ride so far and I tell them that 75 percent of it is mental. Once you have the training in your legs, the rest is up to what your mind tells you.
After more rollers and another good climb, David and I were now riding with a couple of other riders as we reached the control in Summerfield, TN. The next section included a 24-mile stretch on TN 156 into South Pittsburg, TN. On gentle rollers and quiet roads, I rested my upper body onto my aerobars and just pedaled and got lost in my thoughts.
Another friend asked if I ever got bored on these rides. Off hand I can’t remember one single brevet where I was bored. I’m too busy reading cue sheets, trying to remember to eat enough, and thinking about life. Oh and I did focus on my form. I love it when I see my shadows on the ground ahead of me. That’s like riding in front of a mirror. I keep my upper body as still as possible in the aerobars, conserving as much energy as I can.
I teach six spin classes a week and I tell the participants during the warmup to watch their form and relax their upper body. Although there is more of an upper-body workout on a rolling bike, I’m still focusing on being relaxed and saving whatever extra energy I have for later in the ride.
I love the section just outside of South Pittsburg. We cross the Tennessee River as we head into Alabama. There’s just something peaceful about water. I always look at the rivers, creeks, lakes as I pedal across their bridges. Last year at this point in the ride, the temperatures were higher and the bugs were rampant. I remember pedaling right into hundreds of black flying critters whose bodies stuck to my arms, legs, and face. But not this year thank goodness. It was in the high 60s/low 70s and I was enjoying the ride.
David riding across the Tennessee River bridge outside of South Pittsburg, TN.
Five miles later I wasn’t enjoying the ride all the much. This AL County Road 93 was lurking ahead and I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. The roads were rough and the pitches were steep. David pulled over to remove a layer of clothing since it was heating up more. Plus, I was able to give him a heads up to what was next. Not only did he stop to do a wardrobe change, but he passed me and was waiting for me at the top!
But I finally got there and continued on to Trenton, GA. Now this next part of the ride is interesting. This section was an out-and-back, as in whatever we did here, we would return to a little later. After a gradual climb, we descended and descended about 35 mph to what seemed like going down a drain into Georgia. Since I knew we’d be coming back the same way, I didn’t really enjoy that descent much.
Next we climbed on GA 136 up about three miles. Here I worked on my climbing technique and was able to pass a couple of riders while doing so. David even did a double-take and seemed surprised to see me gaining on him. So what’s my climbing technique? I can’t give it all away, now can I?
Anywho…I reached the top to where David was pedaling easy just up ahead. We rolled for several miles on this ridge line and started our descent to Cooper Heights, GA. My speeds were quickly approaching 40 mph with the brakes on, and I knew the climb back up was going to be challenging.
A man cutting grass at a church on the right gave me the thumbs up as I zipped past him. Moments later we were at the store getting our brevet cards signed. David, Steve, George, Jon and I looked like we were ransacking the store. Combined some of the things we got were water, soft drinks, a Yoohoo, pizza, and Payday candy bars. If you thought endurance cyclists eat healthy foods, then you may be surprised if you were to look in our jersey pockets. I’ve been known to carry a smushed hamburger for hours and still keep gnawing on it. I guess it’s more accurate to say we’re healthy eaters, instead of eating healthy foods. But after a long brevet, my body starts craving vegetables and fruits and protein.
Steve and Jon leave after Steve inhales a personal-pan pizza. David is ready and waiting for me as I stagger around confused as to what I wanted/needed to eat. And George tells me he’s feeling like he’s got no power when he stands on the pedals. I told him that’s how I feel on every ride! And I told him that 40 mph on the descent means about 4 mph on the ascent. Actually, I climbed a little faster than that, barely.
But let me tell you about George. I’ve ridden with George on a few 400Ks and one 600K and each time his chain is squeaking at the beginning of the ride. Maybe he just doesn’t like to weight down his bike with all that extra lube. Who knows? Here’s something interesting. On those rides, he uses one small water bottle and it’s only half-full with some kind of pinkish liquid. His pockets don’t appear to be overflowing like mine. While I look like I’ve got a picnic in my pocket, George looks like he’s out on a ride to the grocery store.
His rear cogset is the size of a saucer that accompanies a teeny cup of coffee, while mine in comparison looks the size of a frisbee. I guessed he had a 23 back there and asked if if I was correct. He said he didn’t know. Funny. With seven climbs on this ride and a couple of them being pretty steep, I’d topple over with a 23. I’d even topple over with a 25. But not George. I’d love to see this man, who’s in his 50s, go up against any 20-something on a hill climb. The man is strong! He’ll go by you so fast on a hill that you can actually feel his draft! So when George said he didn’t have any power, I didn’t believe him. We were 140 miles into the ride and I was sure he wasn’t warmed up yet.
So back up GA 136 we go. Cars and RVs with super-nice looking road bikes went by us. Turns out there was a Georgia Cup Race in Chattanooga and these were the participants leaving or going to their races. One guy asked me what ride we were doing and I told him we were riding 256 miles. “In a day?” is usually the response I get, and that’s exactly what he asked. “Yep,” I replied. I love seeing the expressions on people’s faces when I tell them that.
The climb up 136 wasn’t so bad. And on the ridge line, we saw Jeff and Robert going towards the store we had just left. A quick wave and a “hi” is about all the conversation you can have when you’re going 20 mph in different directions.
We descended the other side of 136. Talking about fun! There were big sweeping turns and smooth roads. Remember that big descent into the hole of Trenton, GA? Well, now we had to climb back out of that hole. 25 miles or so later we reached Stevenson, AL. At this spot last year, it was dark. I had already been riding by myself (don’t tell my Mom) when I reached this store. This year, there was still about another hour of daylight.
Steve, David and I got burgers and fries and McDonald’s. Yes, more healthy food! Steve continued on while I told David I needed more time to cram these two burgers and fries down my throat. I just couldn’t eat that much that fast, so I put one of the burgers in my jersey pocket, like I’ve done on past rides.
One more big climb was looming. Alabama CR 33 was mean to me last year. With each switchback, the road got steeper. And my NiteRider light beam kept showing me that the climb was still continuing with no end in sight. And last year, I was forced to unclip and walk some just before teetering over.
Well, damn. The road got me again. I was pedaling a blistering pace of 4 mph. With each pedal stroke, I applied all of my standing force to go straight down. I pushed and pulled as sweat built on my forehead and snot ran out of my nose. Then a voice in my head told me I could walk at 2 1/2 mph for a few minutes and recover. So that’s what I did. I’ll get you next time. You hear me Alabama CR 33?!
After a couple of minutes, I got back on my bike and continued to climb and climb and climb. I didn’t see David at all. His red blinking tail light had disappeared a while ago. Damn he’s fast! He would’ve been done probably hours before me, but we ride these longer brevets together for safety and to enjoy the ride together. Except at this spot. I wasn’t enjoying it and we weren’t together.
But there he was waiting patiently for me at the top with his lights piercing the night. “I had to unclip,” I told him. “Why?” he’d asked. “Just couldn’t turn the pedals anymore,” I said. He just looked at me like I spoke to him in French. He just couldn’t grasp that a climb could be that difficult to where you have to walk. Damn he’s strong, too!
That last climb took a lot out of me. I was tired and hungry and now sleepy as hell as we rolled on what felt like the top of the world. I told David to talk to me so I’d stay awake. But I didn’t need him to talk to me since my light just went to safe mode. Time to change the battery. I got off my bike and staggered and sat down on the pavement since my legs weren’t cooperating. I struggled some with the battery holder and decided then that I needed to come up with a better plan for changing batteries 18 hours info a ride.
The battery holder is really safe. I mean that battery isn’t going to fly off when I’m flying at 40+ mph. But dang it was hard to remove the battery. So I’ve already got a plan B prepared for the next long brevet.
Back on the road again and down an 11 percent grade! Glad I changed my battery because this road was steep. I alternated my braking from the front to the back and maintain a reasonable and safe night-time descending speed. At the bottom was our last control in Winchester, TN. And that’s where we just caught up to George. He left a few minutes before us because I needed more food.
So we got some chicken fingers and stood and ate outside. It was about midnight and the store was warm and inviting. With 22 miles left, the last thing I want to do is get too comfortable. Party goers came in to get beer and cigarettes. And interestingly enough, people didn’t seem to think we looked odd riding at midnight.
Three chicken fingers down and I was ready to be put this ride in the record books. I remembered from last year that it was an easy 22 miles. We caught up with George a few minutes later. The closer we got to the finish, the faster David pedaled. And with 10 miles remaining, we were rolling at average speeds of 20 to 22 mph!
I felt like I was in a road race. No time to eat, drink or wipe snot. Once again I’ve got snot running. So much for being ladylike. I was rolling with a chicken finger sticking out of my back right jersey pocket and two bottles that were nearly empty.
I wonder what we looked like as we rolled at these speeds at 1 a.m. in Manchester, TN. I doubt this was a usual occurrence. Fortunately, there wasn’t much traffic on the roads. All I needed to concentrate on was David’s rear wheel. And George was on my rear wheel.
There it was up ahead – the finish hotel! By now the temperatures were in the mid 40s, but we were dressed like it was a summer day when the three of us stormed the hotel lobby to get our cards signed. People checking in at the front desk stared at us with amusement and wonder. “We just rode 256 miles,” I told one of the ladies as I tried to not stand too close to her figuring I smelled pretty ripe by now. She was stunned.
The best part about doing a ride like this is getting to the finish hotel and rolling right into the hotel room. I ate some food, had a warm shower and a cold beer before stretching my numb legs.
So our finish time? 19 hours, 12 minutes. That was 1 hour, 20 minutes faster than my time last year. Another personal record in the books and a big smile on my face.
Wendy and David after riding 256 miles in 19 hours, 12 minutes.
Sat., March 27 – Georgia 200k (130 miles) – Gainesville
The morning started off colder than we had expected, but I already made up my mind to not overdress. With temps in the low 40s and windy, I wore knee warmers, arm warmers, gloves and six plastic bags (my secret weapon to staying warm).
By mile 40 all of the bags were gone. And by mile 65 all of the arm and knee warmers were off. I was a little chilled, but that just meant I needed to ride harder.
On paper my finish time of 8 hours, 22 minutes was slower than the last time that I did this ride in 2007, which was 8 hours 12 minutes. This year I worked together with Julie and Andrew until about 40 miles when I was able to go a little faster than Andrew was on his fixed gear. (In 2007 I drafted the entire ride).
The Gainesville rides are noticeably more hilly than Augusta, which is even more amazing for anyone to do this ride on a fixed gear. I have 18 gears and used everyone of them on this ride. But Andrew and another friend, Gator, showed us how it’s done! Great job, guys!
I thought I may actually be able to complete this ride in under 8 hours, but then remembered how punishing that damn Burton Dam Road can be, along with other painful climbs on Glade Farm Road. Pushing and pulling and zigging and zagging at a blistering pace of 5 mph up those last hills didn’t help my time either. Not to mention the strong winds for much of the day.
I rode consistently and efficiently and made quick stops at the control points where I got my brevet card signed and replenished my water. There’s not much else I could’ve done to improve my finish time of 8:22. I was definitely a happy cyclist on that last five-mile stretch on GA 284 heading back to the parking lot. Tucked in tight to make myself a small target to the wind, I pushed and pulled in big gears at a steady cadence in the 60s. I was too busy to wipe the spit from where the crosswinds picked it up and dropped it on the sleeve of my jersey. My goal now was to be at the finish before David had time to change clothes, eat and load his bike in the truck.
When I blasted into the parking lot, dodging and weaving through the hundreds of college students participating in a regatta boat race, I saw David sitting on the tailgate of his truck. He had changed clothes, loaded his bike and had already eaten. 
( But the smile on his face pumped up my endorphins even more. I did some easy cool down loops in the parking lot to bring my heart rate down. But I was too excited and happy on my post-cycling high that I just felt jumpy. Then my body realized it was wiped out. I ate and sat in David’s truck for at least half an hour recovering.
At the turnaround point of the ride I was the second group (of one) that was within a few minutes of David and two other guys. Sitting in the truck next to me David’s eyes were sparkling when he told me he was surprised to see me coming up on them so quickly. I usually putter around in our training rides. I have no idea why. But put me in a competitive environment and stand back ’cause I’m going for it!
