1200k planning

Today someone showed me a detailed spreadsheet for planning out a 1200km ride, complete with average speeds, control open/close times, sleep stops, and loads of other data. That set me to wonder why a data-hungry nerd like me has never been interested in using that sort of spreadsheet and to think about what I use instead.

Perhaps I fear that with too detailed a plan, I'll get overly concerned (especially when tired) about deviations from the plan and that the concern will do more damage to my ride than a lack of planning. Or maybe I just don't want to see just how slow I ride enshrined in Excel glory.

So for what it's worth (bring your own salt grains), here's my approach to a 1200km event (I'm up to 13 finishes):

• Try to maintain 20kph (including stops) during the day.
• This is easy to calculate, even when tired.
• Keep stops short enough to keep on that schedule.
• That gives me 6 hours in 24 for rest.
• 18 hours x 20kph = 360km or 24 hours of brevet time.
• 5 hours rest instead allows me to start with an hour in the bank.
• Don't panic if falling behind.
• I assume a shorter sleep break can fix.
• Be cognizant of the 10 hours extra time on return.
• Forgetting this can induce unnecessary panic (as it did on my DNF).
• Ok to settle for 15kph (including stops) during days 3-4.
• Anything better than the 20kph/15kph is gravy. Stop for ice cream.
• Did I mention already? Don't panic.

Looking over this, I can see why I almost always finish in about the same time (83-87 hours). My very few shorter times have generally come when I've only had 2 sleep breaks instead of 3.

Fool

Platzner Makes Fool out of Thomas in Media

Recently, in a (perhaps futile) effort to expand the appeal of the fringe sport of randonneuring, local club president Mark Thomas defended the sport against the charge that it was simply "cycling while sleep deprived." Mr. Thomas asserted to the Seattle PI that "sleep deprivation is not an inherent part of randonneuring." Article.

In a deliberate attempt to embarrass the current leadership, Joe Platzner of renegade website RandoLeaks published not one, but two, all night rides, ostensibly to celebrate an invented holiday he calls Festivus. With plans to have "stupid fun" by "riding all night," Mr. Platzner actually encourages sleep deprivation on December 18th and/or December 21st.

Even the mainstream media was forced to take note, with the Seattle PI now printing that sleep deprivation "is definitely an intentional part of randonneuring events." Retraction.

Worldwide reaction has been swift and derisive. Unable to defend itself in the court of public opinion, the SIR leadership has attempted to have RandoLeaks shut down and deprived of funding. Rumor has it, however, that this attempt has resulted in swift an furious retaliation, with hactivists shutting down Mr. Thomas's paypal account and preventing him from registering for future rides. It also appears that RandoLeaks has now raised vast sums through the sale of glasses ironically used for Mr. Thomas's drink of choice.

More as this story develops.

Ed note: Further research has uncovered evidence that Mr. Platzner's vendetta against Mr. Thomas started long ago. Poisoning?!?

Out Collecting

Yesterday, I joined Alan Bell, Joe Platzner, and Ken Ward for a wonderful 200km permanent ride around Seattle. At a time of year when Seattle randonneurs can expect to ride in cold rain, the four of us instead enjoyed a gloriously warm and sunny day. At the finish, we celebrated Ken's successful completion of his R-12 quest and I happily collected another nice randonneuring memory.

My blog updates have been scarce since last summer, but not from any lack of riding. Although my motivation to write about randonneuring disappeared, my motivation to ride stayed strong as ever. In 2010, I've added quite a few gems to my collection of randonneur experiences. Looking back today, I see two grand randonnees, eleven other brevets, one populaire, and one fleche on my 2010 list of event finishes, matching exactly my totals for 2009. Along with a good collection of permanents, these made for a lot of nice days on the bike with good friends already this year. As is often the case for me, the standout additions to the collection in 2010 came from the longer rides. 

In June, I traveled to Oregon for John Kramer's Oregon Blue Mountains 1000km brevet. I saw the OBM1000 as a rematch for his XTR600 that nearly did me in the year before. Getting shelled out of the back of the pack within the first 10 miles put an early dampener on my hope for a triumphant return to central Oregon. With cooler temperatures than 2009, however, I manage to ride myself back into the ride. As with my Scandinavian adventure in 2009, I felt better each day of the ride. By the third day, I was boasting on Facebook: "What else you got?! Clarno Climb? Bah! I killed it!" Although vicious headwinds turned the last 40 miles into a slogfest, I finished happily with Rick Blacker (SIR) and Karel Stroethoff (Montana) and the year's adventures were off to a great start.

July brought the opportunity to participate in the Hokkaido 1200, which would be the first RM 1200km brevet held in Asia. As a collector of rando doodads, I was quite eager to join this ride. It would give me the chance to be one of the first, if not the first, rider to earn an International Super Randoneur 1200 (4C) patch for collecting a 1200km ride from each of four different countries on four different continents. I had previously collected an ISR 1200 (3C) and an ISR 1200 (2C) and had a European and North American ride already collected towards this one.

Although not the most challenging or the most scenic 1200 in my collection, the Hokkaido 1200 may be the most unique. Some extraordinary help and generosity got me to the start line in Sapporo. David Thompson of Tokyo, whom I had met on his trip to Seattle in June to participate in the Cascade 1200, and his wife Tomoko rolled out the red carpet for us. Chris accompanied me to Japan and we had a lovely time touring Tokyo, Kyoto, and the Izu peninsula before she returned home and I headed north with David for the ride. I scarcely had to think about any logistics and could just show up and ride.

Before I had even left home, Toshio Muto, ride organizer, and Hiroshi Horikawa, my anglophone correspondent, had done everything possible to welcome me to the ride and to make me feel like an honored guest of Audax Japan Hokkaido. As it turned out, I was the sole rider from outside Japan. Despite the language barrier - my Japanese consisting solely of a vague ability to say hello or thank you while grinning enthusiastically - I felt immediately at home with the riders from AJH and elsewhere in Japan.

Careful work by the organizers and some advance GPS prep effort on my part kept me on course for the entire ride despite the mysterious (to me) cue sheet and indecipherable (to me) street signs. Staying fueled in a different culture proved to be no problem - great food was offered by the volunteers at the few manned controls, including the first octopus that I can recall consuming on a brevet. The other controls were at convenience stores (including the ubiquitous 7-11s) and I soon found a routine that worked for me - a coffee drink, a sports drink, water for the bottles, and onigiri. These seaweed-wrapped rice balls with mystery fillings (I couldn't read the labels) proved to be perfect ride food for me. I probably had at least 50 of them!

My friend Peter Donnan from Australia describes randonneuring as a sport where one can make up "lack of ability with lack of sleep." For various reasons, I only managed one good night's sleep on the ride - six comatose hours at about 850km. With little sleep, I collected the fastest 1200 time of my slow career - 76 hours, 34 minutes. An extraordinary adventure.

Back home, I rode very little until my next long event. A 200k permanent in California highlighted the two months between big rides. Chris and I took our bikes along when we drove our daughter to her first year in college in Southern California. On the way back we stopped to visit friends in Santa Cruz. While Chris went off mountain biking, I rode a bit with rando legends Lois Springsteen (current Randonneurs USA president and five-time PBP finisher) and Bill Bryant (prolific writer and historian of all things rando) and completed their hilly, scenic Skyline permanent.

The hill training of the Skyline permanent proved quite useful for my next long event - the pre-ride of a one-way 1000km brevet from Seattle to Crater Lake in Oregon (and on to Klamath Falls for train ride home). As a public service, Geoff Swarts, Vincent Muoneke, Kole Kantner, and I went out the week before the scheduled date of this brevet to take all the bad weather that might otherwise mar a great event. We had headwinds and hours and hours of torrential rains (whitecaps on the road?!?) to enjoy.

Having seen pictures of Crater Lake, one of the natural wonders of the world, I had eagerly anticipated the chance to make my first visit there and on a brevet, no less. After a difficult couple of days along the Washington and Oregon coasts, I almost didn't get going for the challenges of the last day of the ride. But Roseburg (Oregon) is a very long way from home and the 100 mile climb from there to the crater rim seemed like the best among various lousy options to get home. Happily for me, Vincent hung back with me for the long climb. His company proved a great counterweight to the disappointment of the day's weather. The crater was in the middle of a raincloud. No views of the lake were to be had. Indeed, I could barely see my front wheel. I could, however, see Vinny's ever-present smile, appearing Cheshire cat-like out of the mist. We regrouped with Geoff and Kole at the top for a long last 100km to the finish. (Happy postscript - the big group of riders the next weekend enjoyed fabulous weather and beautiful views on this terrific course).

Next up was Australia (I needed another continent, after all) for the fourth edition of the Perth-Albany-Perth 1200km brevet in Western Australia. I turned 50 in the company of great randonneuring friends in Perth before the ride. As I've noted before, one of the great joys of this sport for me has been the collection of friends from all over the world that I see over and over at these events. Nearly 90 riders made for a great field. Common overnight stops led to a very social ride. I saw riders that I knew from the US, Canada, the UK, and Sweden along with the many Australians that I've met on two prior riding visits to Australia (and at other rides).

Many things came together to make this a terrific 1200k for me. Nick Dale and his colleagues did an extraordinary job of organizing the ride. The weather was perfect for me - cool evenings and temperate days. Not a drop of rain (until our plane taxied off to the runway as I left Perth after the ride). Although I usually spend a fair amount of time riding alone (which I enjoy) on long rides, I rode nearly the whole ride in the company of other riders. In particular, I spent much of the ride with Greg Courtney (Iowa), Spencer Klaassen (Kansas City), Maile Neel (DC), and Jos Verstegen (Holland). In addition I rode the first night and most of the second day with Vincent and all of the last day with Peter Donnan (Melbourne), who had hosted me (and towed me in) at the Great Southern Randonnee in 2008. Varied scenery and interesting wildlife added to the fun. (Some pictures of my ride can be found online - mine, Spencer's, Maile's, and Greg's).

All in all, a wonderful collection of randonneur memories already in 2010. A great year. And I collected some new stickers for my luggage box too.

5000 Kilometers Behind

Last October , sitting on a train to California and feeling behind on my randonneur blog, I wrote A Catch-Up Post. Little did I know that it would be three months before I wrote another post. As someone commented recently, "isn't about time for a catch-up post to your catch-up post?" But I'm five thousand kilometers behind - that's a lot of catching up.

Randonneurs are fond of joking that they ride for trinkets. I sure do. In the last three months, I've happily collected all sorts of doodads. An offhand comment from frequent riding companion Vincent Muoneke launched one quest. Vincent mentioned that he had earned his third 5000km RUSA distance medal. (He would subsequently earn another one and finish the year with over 22,000 RUSA km, an amazing record!). Having once been a bit of a math nerd and thinking of 15 as a nice triangular number, I figured that if I ever rode 15,000 RUSA kilometers, I'd want to commemorate the achievement with a full set - a 5000km medal, a 4000km medal, a 3000km medal, a 2000km medal, and a 1000km medal. Suddenly I had a distance goal for the rest of the year.

Along the way, I found all sorts of other blankets and baubles in my mailbox.

A 2009 ACP Super Randonneur medal (for riders who complete a 200, 300, 400, and 600km brevet in one year),

a RUSA Super Randonneur jersey (for riders completing the same series of RUSA events),

a PCH Randonneurs Super Randonneur jersey (for riders completing the same series, with at least one of the events done with the PCH Randos in Southern California),

a Last Chance 1200 commemorative jersey (for the summer's party ride),

my second International Super Randonneurs patch (in this case for a ISR1200-3C - completion of a 1200km event in each of four different countries on three different continents),

my third R-12 medal (at least a 200km event in each of 12 consecutive months),

and a beautiful new Randonneurs USA Mondial award globe (for RUSA lifetime achievement of at least 40,000 RUSA kilometers).


Of course, I really ride for the joy of the time on my bicycle, so it's more fun to recall the rides that generated the trinkets. The train ride to California in October took me to Salinas, the start of a one way 600km brevet down to Ventura/Oxnard with the PCH Randonneurs. Spectacular scenery, good company, lots of climbing early in the ride. Worth the trip.

In December, I flew to Dallas to ride a 300km brevet with the Lone Star Randonneurs. Good friend and LSR RBA Dan Driscoll hosted me and took me out for a nice RUSA Permanent ride the day before the event. Having a local rider came in handy when looking for a place to stock up along the way.

On the 300k, it was a treat to ride with many of the legendary Texas K-Hounds. A rite of passage for the local randonneurs is to complete 10,000 kilometers of randonneur events in a single year and get recognized as a K-Hound.

On the 300km brevet, I rode with Dan and Mark Metcalfe, each of whom has had a 20,000 kilometer year, Gary Gottlieb (above right), who was on his way to his own 20,000 kilometer year, Val and Robin Phelps, both on their way to more than 15,000 kilometers for 2009, and Vickie Tyer (above left), a RAAM-qualified (at the 2009 Last Chance) K-Hound. In training for an upcoming 24-hour event, Mark was off the front early, but the rest of the group stuck together all day, building camaraderie by enduring chipseal, headwinds, and Val's jokes (that's him below, laughing at one of his own now).

In between and after these two out-of-town brevets, I rode nearly 4000 kilometers worth of local permanent events. Some were epic, like the all night ride in torrential rains to greet the arrival of the winter solstice. Some just good rides with food.

And many, many were a chance to spend the day with good friends Vinny and Geoff, who are handy with a flat.

And I'll admit that a few fell into the "yeah, I've done this one before, but if I still want 15,000km . . . " category.

Looking forward to 2010.

A Catch-Up Post

The longer I go after posting to this blog, the harder it is to get started again. So here's a bit of a catch-up for the last three weeks.

Mount St Helens

After flying high with a fun 1200k brevet on the plains and a fastest-ever 200k permanent, I came crashing back to earth. In Icarean fashion, it was a too much ascent that caused the big descent. On a Wednesday (9/23) a collection of usual permanents suspects met in Winlock for a permanent up to Johnston Ridge Observatory on Mount St. Helens (and back). For years, I've meant to do the organized Tour de Blast ride, but somehow never got around to it. Geoff's Winlock-MSH-Winlock permanent wraps the same climbing in another 40 or so miles of gentle rollers to get the magic 200k distance for the permanent.

My performance peak came early as I staved off a convenience store stop in Castle Rock with a timely spotting of an espresso serving bakery. After that, it was a bit of an ugly-fest for the rest of the way up to Johnston Ridge. I augmented my usual climbing prowess with a series of rookie mistakes - not enough sleep, not enough food, not enough hydration, and starting the climb too hard. The 4000 foot climb to Johnston Ridge is interrupted by a 1500 foot down hill, making it more like a 5500 foot climb (somehow the whole route was 9000 feet of climbing). By the time I reached the top I was a bit of a wreck.

But it was a beautiful course with great views of the mountain, so it was a good day anyway. More than 50% more elapsed time than the last 200k (nearly 12 hours total), so back to normal!

Barlow Trail

The next order of business (Saturday, 9/23) would be the Barlow Trail 300k put on by the Oregon Randonneurs. Michael Wolfe, who has recently moved from Portland to Seattle, created this route, pre-rode it during the summer, and then had to postpone the event because of record heat. (Warmer, even, than that I enjoyed on the XTR.) Somewhat humbled by my torturous ascent of Mount St. Helens, I asked Michael about the climbing on this ride. "I'm not gonna lie to you, this is a challenging ride" was not really the reassurance that I sought. My usual riding buddies were iffy as well. Geoff thought that some rest would be a good idea. Vincent was about to leave for the Endless Mountains 1240. Might good sense prevail? Not likely - there was a ride to do. As Geoff's e-mail put it, "Sanity is overrated; suffering is temporary; I’ll be there." So Friday, Geoff, Vincent, Michael, and I are carpooling to Portland. Well, to Sandy, OR, where the ride would start.

The ride was spectacular. Michael was right, it was challenging, but the suffering was modest. We followed the Clackamas River upstream in the morning.

We left the river to climb through the forest on some delightful roads.

One in particular was made all the more delightful by a relative lack of traffic. The paucity of cars could be attributed to the fact that instead of a bridge over Anvil Creek, the road simply ended on one side and restarted on the others. No problem for intrepid randonneurs, but not so good for cars.

We screamed downhill towards Maupin and the Deschutes River. Without the incinerator heat present on my only other trip to Maupin (on XTR), the town seemed quite pleasant. I even felt like eating this time. Geoff and Vincent joined me for a nice sit-down lunch. As with the XTR, we left Maupin for a stretch downriver and upwind along the Deschutes.

A familiar climb brought us out of the river to Tygh Valley. The painful, guardrail-sit inducing, never-ending climb up Tygh Ridge from the XTR was not on this route. Instead we headed for Wamic Market,  climbing out of the valley on a different road.

After fueling up at the market, we headed into the hills on the Barlow Road Route towards Barlow Pass.

We felt pretty good on this stretch and climbed well.

It was dark when we reached the summit and then descended and climbed to the last control in a chilly Government Camp. At this point I was acutely aware of my mistake - forgetting my arm and knee warmers - so I begged for a soup stop before going on. The tomato soup at the Ice Axe Grill did the trick. After donning every item of clothing I had with me, including my always-carried but seldom-used Gore jacket, we zipped down the hill to pizza and beer at the finish in Sandy.

A great ride. Glad I didn't miss it.

Watching a Race

The following weekend brought something different. Bob Brudvik and I headed down to Southern California to crew for SIR member Chris Ragsdale on the Furnace Creek 508 ultramarathon cycling race. Being in the crew van gave us a front row seat for Chris's impressive win over rival (and winner of the last three FC508s) Michael Emde. The FC508 bills itself as “The Toughest 48 hours in Sport” with a race course that is 509.58 miles long and has a total elevation gain of over 35,000′, while crossing ten mountain passes, and stretching from Santa Clarita (just north of Los Angeles), across the Mojave Desert, through Death Valley, to Twenty Nine Palms. An already difficult event was made even more challenging this year by DNF-inducing winds gusting to 60mph+ (and not tailwinds, either!).

Sunrise

Watching a race is all well and good, I suppose, but I needed a ride. Happily Geoff was game for a weekday ride up to Mt Rainier on the Sunrise Climb permanent from Black Diamond. A picture is worth a thousand words.

A wonderful day.

Something Different

I'm not known for speed. In 2002, some SIR riders and visiting riders got together to carpool in a small caravan from Seattle to the Rocky Mountain 1200 in British Columbia. I warned the other driver that some regrouping might be necessary because, as I put it, "I drive kinda slowly." Greg Cox heard this and exclaimed, "Geez, don't tell me you drive that way too!" Not much has changed in the years since.

Fresh off my dawdling ride of the Last Chance 1200, yet oddly emboldened by how good I felt on and after the ride, I suggested to my fast friends Bob Brudvik and Robin Pieper that we go out this weekend and ride a 200km permanent for speed. We picked the Three Rivers Cruise, a relatively flat (3000ft according to my Garmin), but still scenic, ride and we lucked into a beautiful day.

We rode three versions of a fast paceline throughout the ride: Bob pulling Robin pulling me, Robin pulling Bob pulling me, and Robin and Bob side by side pulling me. To be fair, I think I may have been in front for a kilometer, early in the ride. So call me the Sandy Pittman of the ride, short-roped to the finish. They pulled when I could hang on and they slowed when I drifted off the back. Very generous.

And it worked. We finished in 7:30. (Elapsed time was actually 7:25, but we started 5 minutes past our scheduled start time. Knocked 1:05 off my previous best 200km time. We averaged 30km/hr for the 6:40 that we were on the bike. Absolutely outrageous. It may take me longer to recover from today's ride than from the Last Chance 1200km.

As a footnote, today's ride pushed my total randonneur event distance for the year to 11,604km, another personal record (I rode 11,541km in 2007). What a fun year it's been!

The riders in Marblemount:

The bikes in Day Creek. Guess whose bike has the most stuff on it?

Speed graph and map from Garmin.

Party on the Plains

Reader note: If you are seeking an epic tale of rando suffering, you'll need to look elsewhere. Looking for a story of one lonely randonneur fighting time cutoffs, sleep deprivation, relentless hills, and epic weather? Move along.

"You're going to Colorado for a 1200k? Wow. That will be scenic. And difficult."

"Well, actually we're starting east of the mountains and heading further east into the plains."

"Oh. [Long pause]. Um, why?"

"Because I've never been to Kansas?"

In truth, Kansas never exerted much of a pull. I'm just drawn moth-like to the flames of these 1200k events. Each brings some unique adventure and a group of old and new friends with whom to share it. Colorado's Rocky Mountain Cycling Club's Last Chance 1200k would be my eighth different 1200. Even the repeated 1200s have offered a different experience each time. Variations in the scenery, in the terrain, in the local culture, in the rider field, in my fitness, in the weather, in my approach, and in a multitude of other factors yield vastly different stories for each 1200.

For me, the theme of the 2009 Last Chance 1200 would be to relax and enjoy the party. With relatively friendly terrain, the event is only as difficult as the weather makes it. I had heard stories of riders seeking shelter from near-tornado conditions, of soaking rains, and of wicked winds. The possibility of high temperatures frightened me as well; as I was reminded on John Kramer's XTR 600k earlier this year, heat is not my friend. But the weather gods would smile benignly on my ride. Temperatures ranged from upper 40s to 80 (F), well within the comfort range of my SIR blue wool jerseys. Rain fell only on part of the last day of my ride and was relatively light - more Seattle misting than diluvian soaking. Winds blew weakly when head-on and from the sides when strong.

Wednesday - 250 miles to Atwood

At an astonishingly early time of 3AM, 36 riders headed off in the dark towards Kansas. About half that group held together to the first control in Byers, Colorado. In contrast to the confusing cue sheet of my last 1200 in Scandinavia, the Last Chance cue sheet was a model of simplicity. Only the first 70 miles and the last 100 miles had turns. The 580 miles in between were a giant out-and-back on US-36. The only good opportunity to get lost and accrue bonus miles came in the dark on the first day on the way to Byers. As a result, many of us saw the wisdom in staying with a big group that included the ride organizer, John Lee Ellis.

I worked harder than planned to stay with this well-guided group and dropped off the back just before Byers as the sun came up. Super-volunteer Eric Simmons had brought a truckful of breakfast burritos for the riders.

The remaining 180 miles of the first day passed uneventfully. I rode with a shifting group of riders in about the third quartile of the field, sticking to my plan to stop at every possible source of nourishment from Colorado into Kansas and to enjoy the scenery(?).

Along the way, Paul Rozelle was corrupted by the ride-for-fun posse and abandoned his plan to qualify for RAAM (again, but this time on fixed gear). Sharon and Vickie from Texas were incorruptible and did ultimately qualify for RAAM. I rolled into Atwood with Paul, Bill Olsen (on his 4th 1200 of 2009), the Florida tandem of Alain Abbate and Viktoriya Shundrovskaya, and their fellow Floridian Hamid Akbarian. Setting a tone for the rest of the ride, Paul, Bill, and I stopped first at the convenience store for some tall cans of 3.2 beer.

Charlie Henderson (RUSA #6) and Jim Kraychy manned the Atwood control and doled out pizza and room assignments. The no-rush plan firmly established, we opted for a 7+ hour stop and a 3AM departure.

Thursday - 220 miles to Kensington and back

Bill, Hamid, the two Pauls (Paul Rozelle was joined by Paul Shapiro), and I rode into the pre-dawn fog with a morning plan that would repeat itself for the rest of the ride. Pre-departure snack, ride to sit-down breakfast in next town, arrive in next town to find eatery closed, curse and grumble, ride on to next town, and finally enjoy a wonderful breakfast in the second town. On Thursday, we landed in the Town & Country Kitchen in Norton, Kansas, where a kindly waitress brought piles of food, pitchers of water, and bottomless coffee cups.

Riding 60 miles before breakfast put us more than halfway to the turnaround point of the ride in Kensington, Kansas. With one relatively brief stop in Phillipsburg, we arrived at Kensington just after noon. It was 11:20 by my watch, so I was disappointed to discover that the post office was closed for lunch. I would have to deposit the ceremonial postcard in the mailbox rather than handing it to postmistress Beverly. Absent any spatial navigation challenges in the Kansas part of the ride, we contented ourselves with temporal confusion arising from keeping official "ride time" (Mountain) on our watches, while the locals went about their business on Central time.

A nice surprise offset the disappointment of the closed post office. As we rolled down the main street of Kensington, I spied a familiar looking flash of blue. A pedestrian sporting a blue wool Seattle Randonneurs jersey? How was that possible? Well, SIR's own Guy Oldfield has a place in the next county and came out to man a table covered with pie and other goodies. A welcome sight.

Heading back west, the morning's light headwind became a happy tailwind blowing us quickly to lunch back in Phillipsburg. At the town's fine sandwich establishment, a Subway, we fueled up for the 90-odd mile return trip to Atwood. Also patronizing the Subway were SIR's Ian Shopland and the Colorado tandem team of Beth and Brent Myers. Our six single bikes and two tandems would ride most of the way back to Atwood more or less together, interrupted by stops in Norton and Oberlin.

In the dark on the final stretch, the unintelligible but unmistakably angry screams of a parked eastbound trucker interrupted the night's stillness. We shrugged it off and continued back to Atwood. Paul, Paul, and Bill stopped off at the convenience store for more yummy 3.2 beer, a somewhat inopportune mission, as they were greeted by the local sheriff investigating a 911 complaint of cyclists all over the road. Our 18-wheeler driving friend was apparently quite unhappy to share the relatively deserted road with any 2-wheelers, even those traveling the other way. With two lawyers among the three riders in the store, not much happened and we were soon again enjoying pizza and beer and the luxury of 12 hours "in the bank" (up from 10 when we arrived in Atwood the previous evening). We made a plan for another 3AM departure and headed off to bed.

Friday - 180 miles from Atwood to Byers

Deja vu all over again. Although the cook could be seen in the window, the diner in Bird City was still closed when we arrived for breakfast. So, on to St. Francis, another 15 miles. A desperate inquiry in the local convenience store yields a recommendation that we stop for breakfast at the bowling alley, of all places. To our surprise and delight, breakfast was delicious. Closed lanes squelched the thought of a bowling a frame or two for dessert.

Soon we were back in Colorado and greeted by brisk winds. Happily, they were mostly crosswinds. Spreading across the road in semi-organized echelons with the strongest riders on the wind side, we made good progress through the winds. Too much fun at ever more frequent stops proved the more serious impediment to forward progress. Stop 14 miles past St Francis at state line for photos? Check. Stop 14 miles later at Idalia control for snacks and ice and nice conversation with the friendly store clerk? Check. Stop 24 miles later in the town of Joes for photos and to make "eat-at-joes" jokes? Check. Stop 11 miles later in Cope for soup and sandwiches in the nice little cafe in the store? Check. Stop 20 miles later at the Anton store control for refreshments including beer? Check.

The group of riders with which I would finish the ride had coalesced by now. Hamid, Ian, the two Pauls, and I proved to be quite compatible. With some trepidation we left the Anton store for the 55 miles leading to the third overnight. Our sense of dread about the rollers and net elevation gain between Anton and Byers (back up to 5000ft) proved unwarranted as we powered through this section feeling great. Along the way, I noted a comment posted online by Amy Pieper back home - "Where is the suffering?" Apparently it would have to wait for another day.

Arriving in the daylight a bit after 7pm meant that we had nearly 26 hours to ride the last 100 miles to the finish. Many riders saw personal best times in reach or were simple eager to get the ride done; they planned short sleeps and early departures. We had other ideas. Over a delicious dinner of corn chowder, grilled sandwiches, pasta salad, cold beer, and other goodies served up by Eric Simmons and Bobbe Foliart, we argued and negotiated over just how late in the morning we could leave. The compromise reached was not to wait for breakfast to open in Byers, but instead to leave at 5am and seek breakfast 34 miles up the road in Prospect Valley. Surely we could get enough sleep with a 9+ hour overnight stop, a luxury previously unknown to me in my 12 years of riding brevets.

Saturday - 100 miles to the finish

Groundhog Day! We reached the Sodbuster Cafe in Prospect Valley only to be greeted by a sign: "6am - 2pm Mon-Friday - Weekend open soon." Aaargh! Off we rode to the next town, but only eight miles this day. In Keenesburg, we found yet another wonderful breakfast at the Korner Kitchen restaurant.

Just out of town after breakfast we rode headlong into the first real drama of the ride. All pretty experienced riders, we would know better than to say "wow, no flats" and thus taunt the tire gods. A reasonable corollary rule would be to avoid any statement like the previous night's "Sure we can spend 9 hours at the overnight. We'll have 16 hours to ride the last 100 miles. It would take a catastophic failure for that to be a problem." A mile past Keenesburg we noticed Ian's wheel out of true. An experienced bike mechanic, Ian found some loose spokes and looked for a broken one or other signs of damage. Instead we spotted this:

Uh-oh. Cracked hub?!? We could feel pretty foolish now for tempting "catastrophic failure," but putting our ride-fried heads together we formulated a plan. First, we added the ziptie seen in the picture in hopes of retarding the progress of the crack. Then we called ride central back in Louisville to inform them of our trouble and to beg for some help. John Lee Ellis, who had finished much earlier (around midnight), offered to bring a replacement rear wheel to the next control in Platteville. Ian rode as gingerly as possible towards Platteville to meet him.

Outside of Platteville we encountered rain that would stay with us for the rest of the ride. Not particularly substantial, it did give me an excuse to put on a few extra items that I had carried unused for 700 miles - wool headband, toe covers, overmitts, etc. (I did keep the raincoat safe and dry in my bag.) The rain also gave us an excuse for a long lunch stop at the cafe in the control. Finally at 2:45pm, barely the worse for wear, we showed up at the finish at John Lee's house. Not the most scenic or challenging 1200 I'd ever done, but certainly one of the most fun.

Paul Shapiro, Ian Shopland, me, Hamid Akbarian, Paul Rozelle

Postscript: My ride wouldn't be complete without a nerdy time-motion study courtesy of my Garmin 705 GPS. The GPS was aided on the Last Chance by my latest gizmo, the V4 power pack and universal cable from PedalPower+ in Australia. Using the PedalPower+ stuff, I ran the GPS continuously for 84 hours. Attaching the cable (with appropriate adapter tip) between my hub and the GPS charged the GPS during the day. At night the generator powered my light and the GPS ran off its internal battery. The cable could also charge the power pack allowing the stored energy also to be used to recharge a phone etc. Very nice setup.

More photos from the ride are here.