The 24hrs of Cumming Report Part 3

Barns for Jason- 24hrs of Cumming edition

So my part of the event started at about 3:00pm or so. Maybe a little after 3:00pm. I didn't get a solid time on my departure. being anxious to go, I even forgot to start my Lezyne GPS until a few clicks down the road. Anyway, I was gone and riding. I felt great, and the weather, for August, wasn't totally brutal. In fact, it actually felt nice out.

Then at about 5 miles in my phone started blowing up with messages. I decided I had better check, since Mrs. Guitar Ted and the family were traveling and perhaps there was an emergency. Nothing of the sort was happening, thankfully, but these were messages from Sam when he was still out riding! Ah crap..... "He probably thinks I hate him now", I thought, but what could I do? I kept riding.

Then I started seeing other riders. Kristi Mohn passed me and said hello. I saw a few other folks I knew and some I didn't know. Then I noticed it was really dusty. I had a tip off from one of the stellar volunteers, Stretch Wilson, that it was super dusty and that I should consider wearing something like a bandana. I actually had one and tied it around my neck at the start. That came in real handy all throughout my ride. It was loose enough not to be too hot or restrictive, and it did a bang up job of filtering out most of the gravel dust kicked up by cars we met on course. I'm glad I had it on hand.

If you squint real hard, that dot 100 yards up the road is Kristi Mohn disappearing in a cloud of dust kicked up by a passing vehicle. 

Stretch told me later that the area hadn't seen rain in four weeks, and you could tell. The dust was as bad as I've seen it. Despite a Southern breeze the dust would hang in the air like a fog and inbetween tree lined areas, in valleys, and on the narrower roads lined with corn it would have a "hang time" that was remarkable. I would come up on clouds of dust with no sign of a vehicle's passing anytime near my arrival.

Signs of how brutal nature and our impacts upon nature are were everywhere if you looked for it.

After this point I didn't see anyone for a long time. Then at about Mile 20 I hit a cue that was confusing. The road I was on hit a paved road at a "T" intersection. The cue sheet said "DANGER HIGHWAY" and there was no direction given. The next cue said the same mileage and to turn "R onto 100th Ave", but there wasn't a 100th Ave sign there. Hmm...... I sent a text to Sam that said, "Lost. Mile 18.5. Cues don't make sense. Came to R-63 and no direction given." So, okay...... I have to say that I am a cue sheet snob. I honed my craft at cue sheets for 14 years with Trans Iowa, and I and my helpers had it down to such a fine degree that they were declared flawless year after year. I know that Gravel World's has stellar cues, and so does the DK200. I have some pretty stout expectations. Maybe many riders don't, but this frustrated me. I wasn't happy.

Then I figured it out, to the best of my abilities, and turned right, heading for what I hoped was the next cue on to G-24. Curiously, at the same mileage as the corner, there was a cue that said, "Continue onto 98th Ave", all three cues at 18.5 miles. Yeah. That sucked. I messaged Sam back, "May have figured it out. Looks like I am going the right way." Then it was two miles up a busy paved road to a turn on to another paved road. What?!! I signed up for a gravel race. Meh! Another mile of pavement and I was back on gravel again.

Around this State Park were more Gold Finches than I've ever seen before.

About this time a fellow on a mountain bike caught me and passed me by. I was behind him for several miles and then he finally got away when I had to stop to switch out cue sheets. That was at a turn on to more pavement, by the way. It was short lived, however, and the ensuing right hander led to some steep rollers. I came across a super busy four lane highway that I had to wait at for a chance to cross safely for quite a few minutes. Then I passed through a riparian area where I saw so many Gold Finches it was astounding.

After passing that area I came up upon a turn to the left on the cues which said, "Slight Left onto Summerset Trail". Some counties call their gravel roads "trails" in their naming scheme and some people call paved bike paths trails. This was a turn on to an unmarked bicycle trail with a turn on gravel just beyond it which wasn't the same name. Okay, bike path it is, I guess. Another slightly annoying cue faux pas.

Moving on I came up on the halfway mark and I was trying to keep my mind on the game. I had been drinking and eating well enough up to that point, or so I thought. Some of the cue sheet madness really was throwing my mind off the game, and then around Mile 40 my legs said "no mas!" and I was in survival mode for about ten more miles. I finally pulled over for my first real stop at almost Mile 50.

Cool bike path. Bad that it was pavement since there was already a bunch on the route.

I laid down flat on my back in some shade I found which was given by some scrub trees and brush. I stretched out my back and tried to get my heart rate down. I had been working really hard trying to maintain a pace which would allow Sam a lot of time to get his next segment done.

However; the Guitar Ted Death Ride the week before had taken its toll on my legs, apparently, because they felt weak. Oh well. I wasn't moving forward, so I got up and then decided to just spin it out at whatever speed I could. Slow was moving. Stopped wasn't moving. Moving = good. So, I reset my goals to just get the job done.

I was getting a bit of pain in my feet, which isn't usual for me. I was riding in some socks that were new to me, and I had tightened up my shoes a bit earlier in the ride. I was going to need to address the shoe issue, but since I had just stopped I wanted to put in some more miles before I had to stop to fix that. So I continued until I came across a Level B road. Now I was thinking this would be another good opportunity to stretch out the back a bit more again, so I laid down flat. Then I heard a car coming! On a Level B? I mean, yeah.......cars and trucks come down these roads, but it is super rare, usually. I sat up, and the kind folks asked if I was okay. Then they left and another car comes right on its heels. Bah! Time to get going again. Mood ruined! I fixed my shoes though.

Barns for Jason- 24hrs of Cumming version

Then I started feeling better. I actually got my legs back and passed Mile 50 feeling stronger. I maybe was going to get this done in a decent time after all. I was following the cues well, the miles slowly ticked away, and all seemed okay for a bit. I noted that I was running low on water, but at this pace I should finish shortly after swallowing the last bit, so I looked to have it in the bag that way. It was getting on toward Sunset though, and I was wondering if I could beat the Sun.

Yep! More pavement! I bet there was somewhere between 5 and ten miles of it and we never went through a town.

Bonus part was that it was flatter in through this bit of the course, so my average speed picked up a tick. I figured I would need to alert Sam that I would be coming in soon, so I waited till Mile 53 to stop and  text him, "At 53 miles. Coming to ya."

That was at 7:55pm and Sam quipped back, "Dang. Awesome". 

For cars? Yes. Not for peds and cyclists.

 This exchange was found to be another miscommunication. See, I was pretty dang sure in my mind this was going to be my only loop. My legs, despite the slight comeback, were fried. Too much mileage too soon. These hills weren't going away, and loop #4 was said to be the worst. But I was focused on getting home and I had ten miles to go. Sam read that and thought it was infused with enthusiasm, but he was toasted too. Not wanting to douse my perceived joy in riding, he decided to pull on his kit and get ready to go out again.

See, had we actually had a "real" conversation, we both would have been telling each other , not only no, but hell no! We had a good laugh about it afterward, but I'll tell about that later.

From that point on the course started back into the rollers found South of Cumming. Then I got hungry. Then my mind started to go. It got dark. I turned on the lights I had, and my body was in a LOT of pain. With everything screaming at me to stop, it was hard to focus. I made a wrong turn and went four miles out of my way. My legs were done, no power. I got back on course, then after a couple more miles I couldn't find the next corner. I parked my bike and sat down in the ditch.

I probably would have cried at this point, but I was too dehydrated to do it. Anyway, I haven't hurt that bad in a long time. I finally decided that if I went West far enough I'd come across the Great Western Trail and hang a right and go back to Cumming. This night madness wasn't for me.

The last happy memory of my leg.

Well, there was another stop on the Great Western Trail to relax my body, an opossum in the middle of the trail that scared the crap out of me, and finally the elation of seeing the light at the end of the trail which was emanating from that little village of Cumming.

I pulled in. The timing and scoring guy nodded at me as if he "got my number", and that was all I needed. I walked directly back to the stairwell and pushed my bike up the stairs, got cleaned up, and went immediately to sleep. If you were there and saw me, I apologize for ignoring you. I was beat, tired, and in a lot of agony. Oh, and by the way, Sam was so anxious to get going he left ahead of my getting there!

Next: Part 4