Three Counties Ride

We decided it would be a good idea to do some long training for Trance Iowa, so Steve came up with a long route that would keep us busy all day. It would actually end up being the longest I had ever done in one go.

Met up with Grant, Tyler and Tour of the Divide finisher Brett at 06:00 at Steve's place off Walter St. Headed west through town, out Hammersley to Mid-Town and south into Green County, through Primrose to New Glarus. Refueled at the bakery before heading out again. About mile 70, my brand-new Santini shorts began to hurt my saddle area, and I set upon learning two valuable lessons:

1. Never wear untested clothing on the longest ride of your life to date, and
2. Always bring chamois cream.

Saddle soreness had never really been much of a problem before, but my butt was on fire for the entire second half of this ride. I don't wear those shorts for anything more than a quick jaunt these days. If that.

Next it was on to the Exeter roller coaster, then Attica and points east into Rock County. Hit a C-store in Evansville and rode through the Hall of Oaks, meandering east through Fulton. Found another C-store in Milton and the low point of the ride, stopping for over a half-hour.

Made Jefferson County by mid-afternoon, rolling through Fort Atkinson and Jefferson before stopping in Lake Mills for a break. Waterloo came next as we turned west into the setting sun. Tyler had to work that night, so he took off just before we reached the Madison city limits right about the time the sun was dropping below the horizon.

Got home just after sunset and hobbled around a little the next day.

Picktrs on the Flickr.

Triple D Number 5

One might think that a bike race of the same length, running through just about the same locale and held at just about the same time every year might become boring. But Triple D has somehow managed to do the opposite and have a distinctly different feel every year it's been run. My fifth attempt at it was no exception.

This year featured a new venue, a substantial variation in the route, no snow and lots of ice. The field grew again, from maybe 70-some last year to around 100 this year. Part of the increase was the lack of snow tipping a number of skiers over to the bike event. Still, the growth of fat biking and winter cycling must also have had an effect.

We had had major snow events back in December, including a blizzard that left much of northeastern Iowa and southern Wisconsin with almost two feet of snow, but most of that had melted by race day. The temperature the day before hit 47˚F, and a pre-ride of the course was very spongy, with open water on the creek crossings. The night before the race, a front blew in out of the northwest on gusts of up to 50mph, and the temperature dropped into the single digits.

The missus and I drove from Madison to Dubuque the day before the race and set up camp at the Best Western Plus.
 
Went to dinner with a friend from Madison at the Star Brewery that night (pretty good, really), prepped the bike and turned in early. Got up early the next morning and had a hearty breakfast, went to the pre-race and saddled up right about 10 o'clock.
 
We rolled out on about a mile of pavement and to the starting point in a cul de sac at the bottom of a hill. A bit of a bottleneck on the narrow trails, and then on to the first creek crossing.

(photo courtesy of Troy Pearce)

The first creek we crossed was frozen, and the mad rush was on through some pretty rough territory.
(photo courtesy of Troy Pearce)

Then there was some industrial park, a bit of pavement at about mile 3 to mile 4.5 and then back into the rough through a cattle range. It was here, coming off a snowmobile bridge like the one in this photo, that I miscalculated on the icy egress and biffed it to my left.
(photo courtesy of Troy Pearce)

Banged my left knee and elbow good on the frozen manure next to the trail, which, in addition to being very hard, has a very rough texture. Worse, I jammed the heck out of my left thumb. Knowing without looking that I was bleeding from a torn nail and scraped knee, I stood the bike up as Lance rode by, replied with an "I think so" to his asking whether I was okay, and threw my leg back over the bike. Quite painful at first, but remarkable what the endorphins will do for a guy.

More rough, the fairgrounds (with a new hook to the right and back over the railroad tracks) and then over Seippel Rd. and out into the farm fields.
(photo courtesy of Troy Pearce)

A lot of bare ground in the fields, and a lot of ice and crusty snow. I stuck to the snow as much as possible because it was faster. The leaders made a wrong turn not too far into this section, and it cost them a good ten minutes. I managed to stay on course and kept a pretty decent pace, somewhere in the top ten. As we climbed again before crossing Humke Rd., I got off and pushed a bit so I could eat and drink and was passed by Ben Oney. Then over Humke, through a few more fields and then down into a super-gnarly wooded section. Had this been a snowmobile trail with good snow cover, it would have been an unmitigated blast. But it was pretty icy and I gotta say that it required a steady hand on the tiller and a willingness to keep the speed in check. Came around a little corner to a huge patch of ice at the bottom and had to brake hard and pull left to avoid another biff. Lance skidded to a stop behind me and chose to ride around it in the rough. After a coupla more snowmobile bridges, we came to the foot of a quarter-mile, 600-foot climb.

(photos courtesy of Troy Pearce)

A couple of farm fields later (alfalfa this time, thankfully) and we came out onto Sundown Rd. There was maybe a mile of pavement here and we dropped back into the fields as we crossed Humke again. Another drop down into a wooded area, a confrontation with a downed tree across the trail, and soon after, a mad dash through a horse pasture with the leaders (some guy turned to me at one point as we were running over piles of horse apples and said "those ain't walnuts," as if I'd never seen a horse turd before!) Then a creek crossing and one more decent-sized climb before coming out onto Potter Hill Rd. I stopped here and used a CO2 to bring my tires up from 6psi to about 10. Jumped on with Frank and a coupla skinny riders as we dropped down the hill and picked up the Heritage trail just east of Graf.

Heritage is normally a snowmobile trail, but this year it was exposed limestone in the middle with icy margins and hardpacked snow at the edges. Sometimes bare all the way across, sometimes icy all the way across; sometimes ice with no snow at the edges, and even a few spots with snow all the way across. Here at mile 14 began the 15-mile odyssey to the halfway point in Dyersville.

Frank called on me to work with him to push the pace into the headwind, but I was a bit too spent to really hang on. He latched up with a skinny rider and they pulled away from me within a mile or two. There were two bridges under repair along this stretch, and one required that we negotiate about 30 yards of flowing water. Fortunately, there was a narrow bank to walk along while rolling the bike in the stream. One of the skinny riders with me at the time was not so lucky. He stumbled and got at least his left hand and forearm submerged in icy creek water. Shortly after this section, my rear wheel washed out when I tried to shift tracks on the trail and I went down a second time. Pretty minor, but my thumb definitely hurt. Another creek crossing, a bridge covered completely with 4 inches of glare ice, the tunnel under Holy Cross Rd. full of ice—all hazard, and all requiring full attention.

After the tunnel, I jumped on with two skinnies, and we conspired to buck the headwind into Dyersville. We caught Frank after a bit, and he told me, having had enough of the ice, that he was going to drop at the halfway point. I bid him good race and continued on, passing a defeated-looking Dennis Grelk and someone else I didn't know. We were pretty close to Dville this year by the time we passed AJ Turner and Drew Wilson coming the other way in the lead. Steve Wasmund and (I think) Alex were not far behind. Caught another skinny as we came into town, and signed in at Chad's at 1:03.

Dirty, Dangerous Determination

 It's been almost two weeks already, but I raced in the sixth Triple D this year, which was my fifth attempt and third finish. Official results aren't up yet, but I came in ninth overall in about six hours and ten minutes. Fifth among the fat bikes and I think I was the first person over 40 to finish (with many under 40 well behind me.) Conditions were icy, and there were many crashes, including three for me. Bruised knee and elbow and sprained thumb. 

Full report to come.

Reports from Fat-Bike.com, Dave G. (parts 1, 2 and 3); Guitar Ted (parts 1 and 2) and T.J. & Gumby.

Oh, the Places You'll Go

Have fat bike, will travel.

The Horses Seemed Impatient

I've never been much of a racer, but I do get into the spirit for this event. Been having some trouble with my left hip since early November; flexors, adductors and the sit bone. A real pain in the ass. Though I'd been on the mend, I toed the line concerned about not being able to get very far. Mrs. Babilonia made me promise that I would be able to lift my bike onto the roof rack the next morning, to which I solemnly swore.

The rollout at the start always begins slowly as we pull out of the Star Brewery courtyard, but builds a fair amount of steam as we near the edge of town. Lance explicitly said "5 miles per hour," but we were up around 12 by the time we crossed 32nd street and the proverbial starting gun went off. There was just enough snow on the unmaintained city path to keep the pace moderate with some sliding around. I had a washout turning onto the first bridge and racked my jewels on the top tube—a real auspicious start. Entering the tunnel under John Deere road, the prehistoric reverberation of every kind of knobby fat tire drowned out the conversation. We single filed it through a narrow gap and headed out onto the private snowmobile trails. The sheriff stopped traffic as we crossed Central Avenue, and shortly thereafter the climbing began in ernest.

The first hill was a 220-foot, 10 or 12-percent grade about 4.5 miles from the start and our first dismounted push of the day. It was followed by a series of its smaller, off-camber siblings for the next two miles.

I passed fellow Madisonian Frank Hassler in this section and wouldn't see him for the rest of the race. Started running neck and neck with Ben Oney and James Zimmerman (on his brakeless, fixed-gear Pugsley) and would trade places with them all day long.

A little over a mile of downhill respite on paved bike path before going back to the ditch. Some sidewalk, farm fields, cattle range and more farm fields. A couple of open water and snowmobile bridge crossings.

My chosen tire pressures were working really well, with the Big Fat Larry on the front at 6psi and the Endomorph on the rear at 8psi. Plenty of grip and cushion without really risking a snakebite flat.

Right around mile 14 a group of about 6 or 7 of us started the final pushing climb to Humke Road. Took a break at the top and chatted with a guy on a Moonlander whose name I don't know. He was having fun. Set off down the tarmac and was soon joined by Ben and Joe Nolan. Felt good to have a break from pushing and hit 25mph+ on the big downhill just before Sundown road. Then it was onto the gravel and down to the B road, which is the best part of the whole course. The B is a rutted double track that drops down about 300 feet at 8 percent through a picturesque woodland. Much fun in spite of the patchy ice in the bottoms of the wheel ruts.

At the bottom of the B road, I saw Joe walking back up the trail. He asked whether I had seen his gloves and I replied that I hadn't. Once I rolled out onto Girl Scout road, I decided to deviate from my plan and wait to see how firm the Heritage trail was before adding air to my tires. Cresting the hill, I could have sworn I saw a couple on a tandem up ahead. Very surreal.

Turning onto the trail, I saw what I think in retrospect may have been Craig's cheering section. They told me that I was the 14th or 15th bike to go past them. I immediately started seeing runners, male and female, coming down the trail from the east. The only person I recognized was Laurel Darren, one of the female bike racers from last year. Within a couple hundred yards, I had decided that more air would make things go faster, so I pulled over and got out my CO2. Two things:

1. A single 16g cartridge will take an Endomorph from 8 to about 12psi with a little left over, and another will take a Big Fat Larry from 6 to almost 10psi; and
2. While you may not need your gloves inside your pogies on a relatively warm day, you still need to wear them while using CO2. That stuff is cold.

Once the tires were aired up, things went mostly from about 9 to 11 miles per hour. Worth it, but James still passed me on his fixer.

A couple of snowmobiles passed me at Gun Club Road and shortly thereafter, Rob McKillip caught and passed me. Or I should say that I wanted him to pass me. With the snow all chewed up in the wake of the sleds, somebody had to make a new track. Better him than me, and it turned out that he was really good at it. I followed him all the way to the tunnel under Holy Cross road near Farley. My strategy for dealing with the hip was to stand frequently and pedal for 5 or 6 strokes and sit back down. That, and wiggle around on the saddle a lot. My quads frequently reminded me that they weren't too fond of the whole production. But so it went, and it turns out that standing will increase your speed.

Just after leaving the tunnel, I spotted a 20-something male sitting in a huge pickup alongside the trail. I immediately assumed that this was someone's cheering section until he leaned out his driver-side window and shouted:

"Go get 'em, Grizzly Adams!"

Best. Heckle. Ever.

Fan? Redneck with a six-pack of Grain Belt on the seat next to him? I may never know.

From here, the trail got a lot faster. It was largely clear of snow and downhill, so average speed picked up to something more like 14 or 15 miles per hour. Rob tucked into his aero bars and quickly opened up a large gap. I shifted up, passing James again and putting a pretty good gap between us. The speed felt great but was tempered somewhat by intermittent drifts across the trail. They were well-tracked but I still didn't relish the thought of biffing it at 18 or 20 mph, so I checked speed somewhat while crossing them.

Pulling into Dyersville there was some nice clear pavement. Then some gnarly stuff in the ditch. Then some streets. I pulled into Chad's Pizza at about 2:05, refilled the fluids, grabbed a bag of peanut M&Ms and was out the door for the return trip by about 2:12...

On the Trail of the Fox

Another year, another Triple D. This time the bike field was quite large at 75 riders—about twice the size of last year. I suppose the huge upswing in the popularity of fat bikes in the midwest had something to do with that. You couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting a Pugsley or a Mukluk when we lined up. There were also a couple of Moonlanders, 9:Zero:7s and Fatbacks, along with an assortment of mountain bikes...and even a cross bike.

Beautiful day, with temps that would rise from the mid-teens to just above freezing. Solid 20-mile per hour wind out of the Southeast. We rolled out of Dubuque at about 10:10 and into the wild:



With just one snowfall's worth of base, the going was sketchy. This was especially true as temperatures warmed up and the snow became less consolidated. Less experienced fat riders were running too much pressure and had lots of trouble holding a straight line. The skinny-tire riders didn't look like they were having much fun in the loose conditions either. Me? I just constantly looked for the track of the fat bike in front of me and did my level best to stay on it.


Following the trail of the fox. Looking for it when it was lost. Wipe out. Get up. Pedal. Sit. Stand. Coast. Push. Eat. Drink. All day.

7:10; 14th place.

(If you want more reading, here's the gateway to last year's account. I think I'll write more about this year later. Maybe.)

Snowy Singletrack at Quarry Ridge

2011: The Year That Was (first half)

Yup, I almost went a whole year without a blog post. It's not that I didn't do anything, but that I didn't feel compelled to blog any of it at the time. So let's get you caught up.

January

After Triple D, there was much lake riding with the dog.


Then the Packers won out the playoffs as a wildcard.


February

Big snowstorm on Groundhog day:


Even bigger shitstorm on Valentine's day (ongoing):


More lake riding


mostly with the dog



March

Sometimes with humans:



More shitstorm. A lot more.


and toward the end came some non-lake riding with more humans:



April

More non-lake riding:



May

BALLS Ride:


(Fail. Dropped out at mile 45 on the first day. Windy and my knees hurt.)

Almanzo:


(Also fail. Dropped out at mile 35 in rainy conditions and temps in the 40s.)

June

Ride the Drive:


More riding with my new human:


and new bike:



All in all not bad.

The Groundswell

I don't think anyone in Wisconsin knows exactly where this is going yet, but this should give you some idea of what the scale and tone is like.

Ruby the Big Red Pony

This is the bike I call Ruby. It's generically known as a fat bike, a kissing cousin of the Surly Pugsley. Designed by the folks at Chain Reaction Cycles in Anchorage, it's built to the shop's specifications by Sapa Extrusions, an aluminum fabricator in Portland, OR. Sapa also make frames for Titus, Santa Cruz and others, and the build quality is quite good.

Like the Pugsley, it accommodates the 4-inch wide Surly tires using a wider bottom bracket spindle and shell, and by offsetting the rear dropouts 17.5mm to the right. This moves the drivetrain outward and allows for a full 3x9 setup without letting the chain rub on the sidewall of the tire. The compromises are a much wider Q factor and a purpose-built rear wheel.

Ruby currently uses a steel Pugsley fork with standard 100mm front hub spacing. This makes getting the front wheel on and off more of a challenge (an inflated tire can just be squeezed between the brake caliper and the other dropout, if the wheel is angled properly.) I might eventually go to the 135mm symmetrically-spaced version that Surly introduced this year.

Here's a full build list:

Crankset	Bontrager Big Earl with ISIS splines, 175mm arms; bashguard/32/22
Bottom Bracket	FSA Platinum DH CrMo BB, ISIS - 100 x 148mm
Pedals	Shimano SPD PD-M515 clipless
Front Derailleur	Shimano XTR E-type bottom-pull with Problem Solvers 'Cross Clamp Pulley
Rear Derailleur	Shimano Deore DX medium cage
Shifters	Shimano 8-speed bar ends on Paul's Thumbies
Cassette	11-28t 8 Speed
Chain	KMC 8 Speed
Hubs	Shimano Deore XT 32 hole 6-bolt disc (M755 front, M756 rear)
Spokes	Wheelsmith Stainless Steel 14/15
Rims	Speedway Cycles Uma II 559 x 70mm
Tires	Surly Larry front, Surly Endomorph rear
Brakes	Hayes HFX Mag Hydraulic Disc with 160mm rotors
Brake Levers	Hayes HFX Mag
Headset	Cane Creek S2
Handlebar	Titec H-bar
Stem	80mm Threadless alloy, 4-bolt faceplate
Grips	Ergon
Saddle	Brooks B.17
Seatpost	Easton Havoc 30.9

This is kind of a big dorky bike, but I really like the way it rides. Considering how massive the wheels are, it's really pretty responsive.