Well, here I am alive and well. I survived a pretty brutal day in the saddle. I haven't had a chance to collect my thoughts so I'll give it a go now. To give those of you who aren't cyclists or who have no intention of pushing their bodies beyond the realm of sanity (not a bad thing by the way), here is a description of D2R2 (per Sandy Whittlesy, race director):
"These are not your usual bike rides! Please read the following. Every year many experienced riders bonk and cramp by the halfway point and go home bummed. We don't want that, this is supposed to be a fun time. So here are some guidelines.Most avid riders should do the 100K because it takes as long as 100 miles on pavement. It is hilly but not severe, being 50% paved and avoiding the wicked climbs. We count 18 miles of flat dirt roads in Franklin County; our 100K does 14 of them in addition to some flat pavement and roads in Vermont. So we are not able to make the 100K any easier, and it is still a challenging ride. If you've been riding centuries this summer, then the D2R2 100K is for you; don't choose the 100-mile thinking the 100K is too short. Many cyclocrossers are finding the 100K event to be about right for their preseason training too.If you have not been doing century rides, then please consider our 40-mile ride, and feel free to get our suggestions on other ways to extend that loop if you wish. We would be happy to help out there.The D2R2 100-mile is another beast. It rides like 180 miles. If you're not doing 8-hour training rides with at least 10,000 feet of climbing on steep grades, then you will not be prepared for the 100-mile event. And no matter what your fitness is, this course will get the better of you. This is not to say that you need to be a European pro to complete D2R2's long course. Just don't underestimate the difficulties thinking that RUSA is a bunch of tourists on funky old French bikes. This is an ELITE course. "Elite" does not mean "I have a USCF license" or "I ride a century each summer weekend." "Elite" means that a professional racer or seasoned ultradistance rider can handle the course reasonably well if their conditioning is near peak and they pace themselves well. Note that the course record - set by a Cat. 1 roadie on a cool, overcast day - is 14 mph (8-1/4 hours). Don't tell your spouse that you're going to ride 7 hours and be home in time for dinner, because you will get yourself in trouble.The 100-mile would be the hardest ride many people have ever done, even if the whole course were paved. Put into numbers, D2R2's 116 miles with over 16,500 feet of climbing is longer and hillier than a Tour de France mountain stage, or more climbing than either two ascents of Mt. Evans or three ascents of Mt. Washington. And 80 miles of D2R2 are dirt! By way of comparison, the legendary cobblestones of Paris-Roubaix total only 30 miles of level ground. D2R2's signature climbs are so gravelly and steep that you can't stand up without losing traction. Most riders have to walk at least one hill, and some just fall over on the relentless grades. Bring a 1-1 low gear, you will use it. And don't forget to adapt if the weather turns bad. In 2007 the record heat dropped people like flies. By contrast a rainy day would have gooey roads and chilly morning temperatures at the higher elevations.While we are loathe to join the legions of event promoters boasting about the rigors of their course, we had to make this sort of disclaimer because we've run into problems downplaying the hardships and talking about the scenery. D2R2 is one of the hardest century rides in the world. One California promoter claims "the hardest 200K in America" on a paved course with 3000 feet less climbing than D2R2. Don't think that we're overstating the difficulties, because we're not.Note that if your goal is to complete the 100-mile, but you are unsure about it, we are offering the "100K bailout," where you get an official finish for a 100K at the lunch checkpoint and then can bail out with a flat 18-mile ride back to your car.The hardships being stated, be it said a hundred times that D2R2 was NOT designed to be brutal. We designed it by placing pins in the map where the covered bridges and coolest sights were, and then connected the dots with dirt roads. The flat valley roads of this region are mostly paved; the dirt roads access the remoter areas, and it is steep terrain. Our intent was to make the most beautiful ride we could; the severity is just a consequence of what's there. In fact, the course could be a lot harder if we wanted to make it so. So while web chat pages harp on the severity of the course, all we really want is for people to finish D2R2 saying, "Wow, that was really challenging, but totally worth it because it's such a great bike ride." Thus we hope you come - prepared - to see what this thing is all about.Maybe that's the end assessment after all: if you come with a particular time goal, set your average speed in the first hour or two and try to hold it, this course will eat you alive. But if you come planning to spend a full day out there, forget about your cyclometer and just stay within your comfort zone, you'll have a really great time on some of the most beautiful roads you'll ever ride."
Now, how much of the description is to deter inexperienced/unfit riders from attempting it is beyond me. I suppose it wouldn't be a good thing to crack out in the backwoods of north central Massachusetts 'cause it's a long walk home. I personally had my own doubts going into this one. Actually, I shouldn't say doubts because I didn't doubt my ability to
complete the ride. I just knew that I would have to dip into my mental reserves as it would be a long day in the saddle.
So Em, Paula, Don and I arrive at the field on Friday around 7:00 p.m. across from where the farm festival would be held the following day. Em and I throw up the tent and we head up to Greenfield with Don and Paula to a hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant. We get back around 9:15 and we do a final equipment check. Paula jury-rigs some bar ends for her mtb and I affix my GPS mount on my stem when I notice there is a tremendous amount of play in the headset. Great. It must have loosened up the night before on the test ride. Here it is after 10 now and I have to try and figure out how this damn headset adjuster works (in the dark no less) and I have to be up in 6 1/2 hours for the 6:00 am start. Normally the lack of sleep wouldn't be a problem but I hadn't slept well the two nights previous so a third certainly wouldn't help, particularly the night before an epic. I finally get it tight (enough I hoped) and hit the hay around 10:40 p.m. Em was fast asleep (as usual) after having worked all night the previous night. I wake up at 4:30 and down 2 cups of coffee, water, a banana, and a granola bar. I figured I had enough stored glycogen from the meal the night before so a little to top off would be sufficient.
After registering, I head back to the car for final prep. It's now ~5:40 and the 170Kers are already lining up. I had every intention of heading out with the lead group as a century I did a few weeks previous turned into a race after starting 20 minutes after everyone else due to ehem, forgotten shoes. I would much rather see how long I can hang on as opposed to chasing. So I go to throw my front wheel on and there is major brake rub. Upon inspection, I see that the front brake cable hanger is not centered so the pads are off-centered. I quickly scramble to take the handlebars off and reposition the hanger. It's now 5:54. I top off my tires at ~105 psi and walk the 100 or so yards over to the water jugs to fill my bottles. 5:58. I get my second bottle just filled as the group takes off. I jump on my bike and away I go. Time: 5:59. Phew.
I had decided to take off my Michelin 30mm Jets and go with the 28mm Conti Gatorskins. I figured that if Doug Jansen was going with the 28s I'd be ok. I would much rather do what I could on the dirt sections than have the added tire resistance of tread on roughly 35 miles of pavement. I see Doug and a few of his teammates toward the front and I figured I'd just see how long I could hang with Doug, knowing full well that he is no stranger to epics and an incredibly strong climber. I believe he ended up going with a 28X26 minimum on his rig and that got me thinking whether my 34X30 was going to be enough. Time would surely tell. I could see early that I was going to have a decent day and the 250 easy miles I had ridden the week previous wouldn't be detrimental to my performance. I kept repeating the mantra, "There's a lot of game left" whenever I was tempted to hit a climb in anything more than the 34X30. Many of the individual climbs are a blur, though I believe Mountain Rd. was a particularly long paved climb early in the ride. It seems that the order of the day would be climb for anywhere from 5-15 minutes at 5-7mph, descend sandy gravel at bone-jarring 40mph, repeat 30 times. With each white knuckle descent I prayed that the wretched headset would stay together. In all honesty, I found the descents harder than the ascents. Not being a mountain biker, my upper body (hands, arms, shoulders, lower back) began to fatigue with each descent. I found out early that I would have to hit the descents a bit to keep in contact with the lead group. I had to keep dropping the hammer on the flats to make up for crappy descending (Il Falco I'm not) and latch back on. I started getting more confident with each descent (despite infamous Poison Ivy crash on Bash Bish a month ago) so I was able to conserve energy. It was kind of funny how with each successive climb there was a gradual culling of the herd. 20 or so became 17, 17 became 14, and so by rest stop 1 there were about 12 of us in the "lead" group. I use quotes here because there was actually one guy off the front- Todd Holland, a cat. 1 from Mass. somewhere. Notables in the group were Jay Gump (owner of Incline Training), Time Coleman (Incline), Doug Jansen (IBC), Dave Penney, Jason Venditti (NCC), and surprisingly, myself. It was here that I also realized that I forgot my brevet card to be signed at each stop in my haste before the start.
At the first stop, (~36 miles) I didn't look at my GPS, but the cue sheet says that we had climbed almost 6000 ft. Nice warmup, huh? I beleive we had been riding for over 2.5 hours by this point. This would be the most cumulative elevation gain of the 4 ride sections. I felt great at that point plus a woman at the rest stop (at a beautiful farm by the way) did her cycling "nutrition" research and was serving cups of Coke. It would have been nice if the final stop had Coke. Well, anyway, I walk out back behind the barn to pee only to be temporarily stalemated by staring cows. Upon completion, I pull up my shorts and turn to walk back out when my left ass cheek brushes the fence. Did I mention it was an
electric fence? Needless to say, I got a nice jolt down my leg. Maybe the cows were waiting for that to happen.
We head out probably around 15 strong now after a few riders catch us at the stop. The views (when I could take my eyes off the gravel 50 ft. in front of me) were quite breathtaking. I've always had a thing for old country tree-lined lanes passing by farms with crumbling stone walls. The weather at the start was probably around 55 and though it was getting later in the day, there was still that cooling effect of the lingering morning air. Not to mention, there was so much tree cover that we rarely experienced direct sun exposure. This being said, I went with the wrong lenses in my glasses (too dark); I couldn't see the potholes and rocks 5 feet in front of me. I ended up riding 90%+ of the ride without them.
None of the climbs to this point had overwhelmed me until one in particular in this section- Archambo Rd. We were cruising along a flattish section and when horror of horrors appears before your eyes. Archambo Rd. is basically a dirt wall. It's not that long, maybe around a half mile but it is rumored to be upwards of 27% grade. I would believe that rumor. I haven't ridden up anything remotely close to this. Even the steepest parts of Ascutney don't compare. Factor in dirt and loose stone and you got yourself a doosy. Out of the saddle climbing is futile. I had a pretty good head of steam going into it (if you call ~10 mph a head of steam) when the rider I was following bails and completely effs up my momentum. Oh well. I guess I'm walking. I would venture to guess that roughly half the riders in the group at this point walked it. Perhaps my ego got the better of me or it was the fact that Dave Penney was cleaning it on his 25s, in his 34X27 no less. I somehow remounted about 1/3 of the way up and "cleaned" the rest. I was half-tempted to go back down and try and clean the whole thing but I would surely lose contact with the group. I guess a complete cleaning of Archambo will be a goal for next year.
Nothing out of the ordinary on the way to stop 2- just several taxing ascents and descents. The group by the time we hit the Green River Covered Bridge had dwindled down to probably around 8 and I remember seeing Todd Holland packing up to leave as we got off our bikes. I kept thinking of the rhyme in the movie,
Ten Little Indians- ...and then there were eight. Doug, Dave, Jason, Jay, and Tim were there as well as Chris Maglieri (Benidorm) from Simsbury, CT who somehow hung with us on a mountain bike! Impressive. At this point, we were averaging a hair over 14 mph and I was starting to wonder if it was possible to complete the ride in under 8 hours. Jack fatigue was starting to nip at my legs at this point. We had ridden around 65 miles with ~9000 ft. of climbing by this point. I refilled my Perpetuum (unbelievable product by the way) and water bottles, inhaled the beautiful view of the bridge and river, and away we went.
You immediately start climbing out of this stop. If you're completely cooked, you can bail here and head for home. I spoke with someone who had done it and said it was 18 miles back to the festival. I tried not to eat too much solid food at Green River as a full stomach doesn't feel too hot with a spike in heart rate. From here there was a further selecting of the group until we were down to four- Doug, Dave, Jason, and myself. There's a beautiful flat dirt section along the Green River that actually is slightly downhill. I believe there's a state park in the area as there were several recreational cyclists on this road. We passed a group of woman that, if they had stared any longer, they may very well have burnt holes in us. Doug remarked that this is his favorite part of the ride to which I quipped, "It's funny that we only had to climb 10000 ft. over 80 miles to get here." It was along this stretch that an insect of unknown origin (I'm assuming bee) got into the front of my jersey stung me once on my chest and then again on my abdomen. Maybe it's a childhood myth but I thought bees could only sting once and then they die. Whatever the case, I had two small welts on my body and no confirmed dead insect. It probably flew out the bottom of my jersey as I frantically flapped it while riding 20+ on dirt. See what you missed?
Fun on Green River Rd. was over in a hurry as we turned sharp right onto Nelson Rd. and climbed a bastard of a hill. I was really starting to feel it on this one as ride time was pushing the 6 hour mark. We made it out to pavement (finally) and I noticed the heat for the first time as it was approaching 12:30 p.m. We bombed the descent of Rte. 112 into Colrain, hitting 50+. It was shortly after this section that Tim had caught back onto us. He said he had flatted and spent the better part of 15 miles chasing us. We were now 5 strong. The next 5 or so miles were pretty mellow probably because of the infamous Patten Hill looming just up the road. I remember Doug pointing up to the ridge from the road we were on and saying, "That's where we're going." Lovely. A couple of miles down the road we hit the base of Patten Hill. (I had 95.8 miles on the Garmin) It starts off paved at 20+% and then turns to loose gravel holding about the same gradient. Let's just say Nelson Rd. is the bastard child of Patten Hill. It just kept going. And going. And going. Hitting this after 6.5 hours of the riding we did will make even the strongest cyclist wince. Doug said at the base that it was a mile climb so I monitored my odo and watched the tenths click by- if that's of course what it does when you're doing a whopping 5 mph. I was calling on every fiber in my leg to contract to keep the pedals moving. To top it off, we all had a close encounter of the redneck kind when a pickup decided to breeze each of us. We were strung out on the climb so it wasn't like he was trying to avoid obstacles in the road. It was probably the closest my shoulder has ever been to a side view mirror. I would normally have reacted, but I had to focus my energy on the climb. The climb ended up being ~1.5 miles so I had to really dig beyond the mile mark to get over the hump. All told, you gain 1000ft. over that 1.5 miles. Ouch.
At the top of Patten Hill is perhaps the greatest view of the ride. Green mounds of mountains stretch off in the distance. There is a great pic of Dave and I on Doug's blog (as well as his account) here:
http://hilljunkie.blogspot.com/2008/08/d2r2-detrimental-death-ride-report.htmlThe stop after the descent of the other side of Patten Hill was welcomed with open arms, at least by me. I just wanted to get off the bike and walk around a bit before the final stretch of our Tolkien adventure. You have essentially a century at this point (99 mi.). Our ride time was just under 7 hours. Sub 8 hours ride time was becoming more of a reality as we were still averaging over 14 mph. We soft-pedalled for a while on some paved sections. Tim, a local, seemed to know the course by heart and said there were only a "couple of rollers" ahead of us. Well, one of these rollers was a paved roughly 400 ft. climb at the 104 mile mark. This, at least to me, proved to be the most difficult climb of the day. It must have been the cumulative effect of thousands of feet of climbing by this point. The "Why am I doing this?" question started to swirl in my mind (gotta love that) and it was at this point where I literally started counting the
hundredths of a mile on the odo, praying that the cue sheets were accurate. We had one last obstacle- Hawk's Rd. that began with "Road Closed. No Maintenance."- an all too common sight on this ride. I was really getting sick of dirt at this point. Every pedal stroke while pedalling up the loose stuff requires all the more wattage and every ensuing descent all the more attention. This Jeep road was the gnarliest yet. Not to mention, we were now passing 100Kers so getting around them was an added element. Jason and Tim absolutely cooked the descent and Dave, Doug, and I did not see them until the finish- some 3 miles later. Jason was the only one of us running cross tires and it was only this section that had me wishing I had run the same. Jason later said that he hit 32 mph on that last dirt descent. Nuts.
Dave, Doug, and I soft-pedalled back through the cornfields to the finish. I was pleasantly surprised to have finished with these guys after reading about some of the epic rides Dave and Doug have done. It was a great day in every way really, and I can't thank Doug enough for his advice leading up to this ride. Dave, too, is a great guy and I look forward to riding with the both of them again in the future. The course was well marked with little green flags and likewise well supported. The hot shower at Deerfield Academy was priceless. Don and Paula finished not long after me- on mountain bikes no less! Emily ended up doing the shorter ride as we didn't equip her bike for the rigors of the longer rides. She still ended up with 50 miles. Great job, guys!
I wanted to do something off the charts with my bike this year and I'm happy to report that D2R2 was it.
Final stats (per Garmin): 111.9 miles, 14,606 ft. vertical, 8:21:36 elapsed, 7:45:00 ride time, 14.4 mph avg., 52.2 mph max.
Here's the Motionbased link:
http://trail.motionbased.com/trail/invitation/email/accept.mb?senderPk.pkValue=222704&unitSystemPkValue=2&episodePk.pkValue=6592086
Cycleworx Group Ride, Tuesday 8.26.08
