"That" Ride - Pt. 2, The Part About the Ride (The Author's Cut)

The morning of June 25th, 2016, I hopped on my trusty steed, Bikael Jordan, and pedaled in the dark, east toward highway K15. It was 5:10 when I left and still about an hour from sunup. The air was cool but slightly muggy from the scattered light showers moving into the area.

My first two miles were rough gravel, a good warm up period but not the kind of terrain I wanted to ride all day. It’s a level of rolling resistance that isn’t great for long distances (DK200, those folks are AMAZING) and there’s a lot of dodging rocks and ruts. Regardless of the terrain, there’s a peaceful, almost comforting isolation to riding in the dark on a county road with just a cheap Walmart headlight.

Once I hit pavement, it was like being shot out of a cannon. I found my cadence fairly quickly and set my speed in the big chainring, where I would ride for well beyond the first century. (The big chainring is the highest of the front gears on a bike. High speed, but requires the most energy expenditure). My heavy, hard training was paying off on the early part of the ride as I was covering a lot of miles with a sustainable level of effort before the heat of the day or fatigue set in.

My then-wife, Julie, and I had the route rehearsed and well planned between the two of us. The stops would be at approximately 20 mile intervals at first, we had planned the basic routine of support stops (bottles filled, snacks, etc), she knew what to do if I didn’t arrive at a stop in a certain amount of time, and I had may cell phone for emergencies. First stop: Durham, KS.

[I took notes during the ride to help me learn for future rides. These notes will be in bold italics, and as written during the ride.]

Stop at Durham to refill.

First stop was very basic. 20-ish miles in, I was not really warmed up but I was feeling strong and so excited about the day that I didn’t really do much more than refill my bottles and hop back on the bike.

Stop 22 miles north of Durham to refill, stretch, reapply creams.

The “creams” are skin lubricants to prevent saddle sores and other chafing. When you have a body part repeating a motion in any article of clothing for long enough, the friction will eventually create a sore on the skin. When this motion is on your rear-end and between your thighs, and temperatures are in the 90’s, you either take these precautions or you suffer needlessly…

Stop 6 miles north of Abilene. Junction of 15 and 18. Refill, stretch, hang out. Making great time. Average over 22. It's 8am.

By this time, I had just a general sense of how far I had ridden. I was intentionally not looking at the odometer. It was almost like a superstition; I was afraid that I would psyche myself out if I knew how far I had ridden. I wanted the distance to be unknown. I was riding to failure (physical or mental), not to a distance. Even without seeing my distance, my cycle computer still showed me my average speed. This was a great motivator early on since I was sustaining a speed way higher than I had while training.

Lesson: Bring spare gloves.

So much sweat!!! The exertion, the heat, and the humidity had everything on me completely saturated by this point. My gloves were dripping and uncomfortable. I had an extra pair but didn’t think to bring them. After all, I wasn’t going to LOSE this pair. I didn’t even think about the sweat.

9:35.

Went west on 18 about 7 miles, north to miss storms.

Stopped near Oak Hill, refill, reapply cream, all electronics covered as I went through some light rain.

I love the beautiful smell of light summer rain on back country black top.

(Accidentally saw odometer when covering electronics. 75 miles at 9:12.)

The storms were patchy and we were using weather channel radar to help navigate and try to “thread the needle” on the little storm cells popping up. We were mostly successful with this technique. I only encountered light rain briefly a couple of times and I was already so wet with sweat that the rain was just refreshing and not at all a nuisance.

10:53am. Clifton KS. 4 hours 54 minutes. Averaging 21.5 mph. Calculates to 105 miles. Still want to avoid odometer until end of trip.

Earliest century ever for me.

Fastest century ever for me.

Resting for a bit, checking weather.

I had to check the math on this a few times. I knew I was riding faster than normal for me but my previous century record was around 15.5 mph average. I was riding so much better, faster, stronger than I ever had. I could hardly believe that my level of preparation and training could elevate me this much above my previous performance levels. As I said in Part 1, I am not an athlete. Had I just pushed myself into something like an athlete, however temporarily? It was an exhilarating thought at the time, but maybe it was just the effects of being on such a high.

Highway 9 out of Clifton to 15

Stopped at Linn. Very tired.

It was possible that the last stop was too long because this next stretch of road really started to tax me. I was still riding fast and strong but I was wearing down a bit. Maybe it was the longer than normal break, maybe it was the distance, maybe it was the increased hills, maybe it was the early morning start. It was probably all of the above.

Lesson: remove helmet at every stop. Helps reduce pressure points.

This seems so obvious in hindsight. Even a comfortable helmet can start to put pressure in places over time. Additionally, many hours into an endurance event you start to become acutely aware of minor irritations. That little pressure you think you can live with early on becomes the only thing you can think about after several hours. This is a function of what I call the “Pain Cave.” The Pain Cave is where your mind goes to focus on the fatigue, the pressure points, the soreness and is a real detriment to your physical performance. It’s your mind telling you “Stop! I can’t take this.” If you know your body well enough to know the difference between injury and normal performance related soreness, you can stay out of the pain cave, or at least talk yourself back out of it to keep going.

So, yes, my lightweight mostly-foam cycling helmet had started to feel like a bear trap on my skull.

Highway 15 to Washington. Stopped at a Casey's, wiped off and lubed chain. Rested.

My chain had taken a bit of water and gravel, but certainly could have gone without the extra attention. I was trying to extend my break without it looking that way. I was wearing down and needed a longer break than I wanted to admit. I can admit it now. No shame.

West on 36 to highway 15.

It was a few miles into this stretch where I had one of the closest calls with a motor vehicle in all of my miles on a bike. It was a flat stretch of road with no oncoming traffic and a good view of the road ahead for at least a mile. An RV towing a Jeep passed me without getting over (and possibly nudging CLOSER to me, just because). They were close enough to blow me off the road into the ditch and adjust my side mirror. I’ve been buzzed before and a foot or two can feel like inches, but this was literally inches.

Kansas traffic laws allow a bicycle to occupy a lane of traffic and vehicles that pass are required to pass with at least three feet between the vehicle and the bicycle. I always ride as close to the shoulder as is practical and at this time I was ON the white line. This inconsiderate motorist had plenty of room to get over to pass; they could clearly see for a great distance that they were safe to take the other lane or at the very least give me the 3 feet of safe passing distance as required by law. They would have rather risked the life of another person than move over or slow down. I managed to stay in control of my bike, unclip my shoes from my pedals, and safely stop. I didn’t, however, maintain control of my anger and I’m quite sure there is a dense cloud of hatred and profanity still lingering in the air west of Washington, Kansas.

I’ve heard all of the “arguments” against cyclists on public roads. But it IS permitted by law, I DO pay taxes that support road maintenance, and I DO observe traffic laws and do my best to ride safely, visibly, and predictably. Yes, I know there are other cyclists who don’t and I wish I could punish them too. They give us all a bad name. But it is NEVER acceptable for a motorist to risk the life of another person to make their point. Killing a cyclist won’t change laws to assuage your frustration.

I remained unclipped for the remainder of the ride. Partly because I was so shaken and wanted to remain a little more free with my feet, and partially because my knees were starting to hurt. I still have issues with my knees hurting after riding clipped in for long distances.

About 9 miles north on 15.

Stopped to rest. Very nauseated. Refill. 5 minute nap.

The nausea was likely due to too much Gatorade. Gatorade works great for some people but I can really only use it for rides under about 120 miles. After some searching, I have found drinks that work better for me for long distances. More on that in another story.

Even though I was pacing myself and not drinking more than a sip at a time, I have since learned that my electrolytes get high quickly and I get nauseated and tight in the chest. The salt elevates a person’s blood pressure and well, electrolytes ARE salts, after all. I have experimented a few times with running my electrolyte levels really high and really low and I can do a lot better now at regulating based on cues from my body.

The nap actually helped. Getting up early takes its toll on a day like this and I was really just ready to be done and go to bed.

Lesson: bring extra pair of shorts

I had been soaking wet everywhere since pretty early that day, but my shorts were to the point where the skin-lubricating creams and sweat were creating quite an uncomfortable “situation" down there. To have a pair of dry shorts to re-set the whole party would have been a luxury.

3:45 Fairbury Nebraska. Stopped, rested, refilled. Not as nauseated. Very weak. Can hardly type.

I had almost shut down on my fluid and food intake. Endurance events create an insurmountable deficit with hydration and caloric intake. You are simply respiring, sweating, and expending more than your body can possibly process to replenish in the same amount of time. To avoid cramping, nausea, and other stomach issues, you really have to sip your fluids slowly over time and nibble your energy bars, etc., slowly. As such, you never fill up and you’re STARVING a few hours in. I had put up with the starving and intermittent nausea for many hours by now but as the nausea had gone away, so had my ability (and desire) to take anything in. Continuing high calorie output + decreasing calorie intake = rapidly decreasing energy.

My fingers can barely text after 50 miles on most rides. It was a small miracle that I was even still able to take these notes.

15 miles north of Fairbury Nebraska. Stopped to refill. Worn the hell out.

I was really just numb to everything at this point. My sight, my hearing, the wind on my skin, everything felt like it was being experienced by another person. As if I wasn’t really there at all. Very dreamlike. And strangely, peaceful.

I was riding to ride. To keep riding. I wasn’t really thinking about how I had been riding or what I was riding towards. I was very present. A very rare state for me.

Went ten miles. Stopped. Refilled. Hard to get back on bike.

I really meant that physically it was hard to get back on the bike. The motion of swinging a leg over and straddling the bike was an extraordinary effort. And my stops were now in 10 mile intervals, so I couldn’t even ride an hour anymore without a break.

Went another ten miles. Stopped, refilled. Do not want to ride anymore. But I can. So I will. No arguments.

At this point I was trying to talk myself into quitting. I remember telling Julie not to tell me how far I had gone but I was also trying to figure out some line of questioning that would allow me to deduce some kind of distance. I can be sneaky like that. I remember the question I came up with to give me some kind of an idea: “If I go another 10 miles, will I have gone 200 miles?” Even at this stage, the 200 mile mark had persisted in my mind. She replied, after a pause to consider how to answer without giving too much away, “Yes.”

Damnit. Now I knew too much. But it was welcome news, even if I knew it would be a fight with myself to keep going. I also knew I was almost completely used up so I wouldn’t be able to ride much further anyway.

Turned east on highway 9. Rode until 10 miles from last stop. 2 miles before Crete Nebraska. Done. No more. Can't pedal.

I remember pulling up to the support vehicle. She had parked on a gravel road and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to safely negotiate a stop on the gravel and remain upright. I pulled up and she almost had to help me remain standing. I leaned my bike against the back bumper and went to sit in the passenger seat (and air conditioning). I was done. I knew I wasn’t getting back on the bike.

I sat for a few minutes then went to check my odometer. I ambled around and clicked through to the mileage screen on my display. 207.55 miles. I had done it. I had seen how far I could ride in a day. And I had broken 200 miles. I felt a wave of emotion (really just endorphins and adrenaline, but still…) and for the first time, probably ever, I was actually a bit proud of myself.

I loaded up my bike and began to peel off my wet clothes. Right there on the road, with the sun not yet set and 30 feet from a public highway, I stripped down to nothing but my socks, toweled off, and put on my clean dry clothes. And suddenly I felt refreshed. I went back to the passenger seat and wrote the following:

Previous record 134 miles. Previous best century average around 15.5 miles.

Today was 207.55 miles, averaging 18.9 mph. Just under 11 hours of pedal time. It pays to train hard.

1st 100 average 21.5 mph. Fastest century ever for me.

2nd 100 average 16.3 mph. Next fastest century ever for me.

Entire Double Century (plus) was faster than any single century I have done to date.

And then I did the following:

Drove in to Crete Nebraska, found a sports bar, had a beer, fried mushrooms, steak and shrimp.

After we had eaten we headed back home to central Kansas. Hit a bit more rain on the way back. I summarized the day thusly:

One beautiful morning moon, one beautiful sunrise, one beautiful sunset, one live timber rattler, countless roadkill, one close call with a truck, closest call I've ever had (RV blew me off road, was close enough to adjust my mirror for me.) The weather was agreeable for the most part with a slight tailwind for about a third of the miles, temps in the 80s and mid 90s, and light rain a couple of times for 5-10 minutes each.

A day well spent.

And it was. I snacked on beef jerky on the way home and had a couple of small protein shakes as well. Twenty miles from home we stopped and got two 20 lb. bags of ice so that when we got home I could have a proper ice batch to help with next-day soreness. I took a twenty minute ice bath, during which I drank another beer and reflected on my accomplishment. I rode 207.55 miles. Me. Not an athlete. Just some guy. A guy who worked hard to chase a goal.

And I caught it.