It’s go time. With the DK 200 a mere six weeks away or so, I need to step up the training in a huge way. Last year my Sunday centuries were well underway by now. It’s not just the legs that need to be in shape, but 200 miles of gravel really beats up the whole body. I need to get it all in shape to take the beating. Long rides are what I need.
I had a route to follow that may have had a bit of the first leg of this year’s DK 200 in it. Or it may have been the complete first leg. I can’t really divulge that kind of information. I was going to ride with some racers, so I decided to leave earlier than them so I wouldn’t have to keep up and blow out my legs. I would be the rabbit they’d have to catch. Well maybe not so much a rabbit as much as a turtle.
The route I was on would take me 100 miles through the Flint Hills. I wrote down a cue sheet from Mapmyride.com. Some of the roads had no names. Others I knew would be named differently out there on the road. I figured the trusty GPS on the smart phone, that I will soon get rid of, would be able to help me out. I also wrote down the milage of each turn to help me out while I was out there.
That night as I was prepping for the next day’s ride, I realized my cross bike was at the shop. Dang it. I forgot to pick it up. Ok, change of plans, I will just ride the Fargo, no problem. Then I realized I didn’t have a bike computer on the Fargo anymore. So much for the milage cues. Taking the advice of my friend Kevin, I decided to change the tires to something lighter than the monster Hutchinsons I had on the Fargo. For some reason the XR1 I was installing on the front would not go on. If you don’t know, I am not very mechanically inclined, but I try my best. All in all, I punctured the tube, not once or twice, but rather four times trying to get that tire on the rim. Once when I had two patches on a tube I finally got the tire on. Yes! I began to inflate the tube and NO! I heard one of the patches leaking. Expletives and shadow boxing occurred. Good thing I had extra tubes. I hoped that would not be a sign of how tomorrow’s ride would be.
The next morning I ate breakfast and left around 7:30 in the morning. But I gotta say, it’s been awhile since I have done an all day kind of ride and I had to force myself out the door. I don’t know if it was fear or laziness or what but the excitement I had to train for the DK200 last year wasn’t there.
Once I got outside and on the bike, things changed. It was a beautiful morning. Barely a light breeze and cool enough temperatures to throw on arm and leg warmers for the first part of the ride. Everything was great, I was making excellent time and the miles were going by quick. My mind was in a happy place. It was all rainbows and puppy dog tails. And then I turned to head south.
At that moment, the wind picked up. Seriously, in a matter of seconds, the wind went from a nice cool breeze to gale force winds. The rainbows and puppy dog tails vanished in the wind. It was blowing from the southwest and the entire route was going to the southwest. Great. Last year I had a few hard core windy rides, but this year, it seems like every time I get on the bike, it is freaking windy.
This may or may not have been the first leg of this year’s DK200. I am not at liberty to say things like the first leg of this year’s DK200 will surprise and annihilate many riders. If it’s windy, that first 100 will beat every ounce of mental toughness out of you if you are not prepared.
Actually getting out of Emporia, the “Front Porch to the Flint Hills,” is pretty flat and uneventful. But then the rollers start.
The ranchers and farmers have been at it again this year and most of the fields have been burnt down and many are brilliant green with new grasses growing up. It’s a beautiful time to ride.
You can see my cue sheet taped to my handle bar here before the wind picked up. I knew the guys would catch me and I wouldn’t have to worry about directions at that point. I periodically checked the GPS on my phone to make sure I was on the right track.
The route led me into an area near Madison full of hills and oil rigs. The wind at this point was fierce. What I mean by fierce is the birds were having trouble flying. I could hear nothing except the jet engine sound of wind racing past my ears. I had trouble keeping the bike on the road with the crosswind. The headwind had me looking down trying to keep the pedals turning at a rhythm I could maintain for another 70 miles. A few of the hills had me laughing or cussing because of the intense wind. It was now a matter of mental toughness. Part of the ride had me up on a ridge where I could see the hills of the Flint Hills for miles. They were green with new grass. It was beautiful and at the same time crazy because being up on that ridge intensified the wind as it came off the valley and zeroed in on my bike.
The roads through the area curve through the oil fields.
I had found my way some 35 or 40 miles into the route. I kept looking over my shoulder expecting the racers to be catching up with me at anytime. But there was no sign of them. I crossed a road and hoped to find the next turn. As I curved through the Flint Hills, I began to feel lost. No problem, I took out the phone to check the GPS. It showed that I was on a road. That’s all I got. About a mile out, it would show a blank grid. Crap! I wasn’t sure if I should turn or not. I was confused. I was alone. I was tired of fighting the wind. I didn’t want to get lost as I was supposed to make it to a spot to be picked up. My mental toughness was running on empty and my cue sheet was ripped to pieces by the wind.
I decided to backtrack to a main road and see if the racers were anywhere to be seen. With the wind at my back I could hear things again and my rear wheel was making a weird pinging sound. I had actually stopped miles back to feel the tire because it was feeling too squishy back there and I thought I may have had a flat. It wasn’t flat and I kept riding. Now I could hear something. I stopped and checked out the wheel and found a broken spoke. Crap! I bent it around another spoke to stop it from bouncing around and kept going.
I was flying now with the wind at my back. I made it to the main road in no time, ate a Cliff bar and scanned the road behind looking for movement. I didn’t see anything. Where could they be? I decided go off route and ride back home with the wind. I should still get near 100 miles in. I sent Tim a text:
Broken spoke, phone doesn’t know where I am and this f-ing wind! I’m gonna find 99 and ride with the wind. I’ll almost get 100.
I figured I would find HWY 99 and just ride home on pavement. I soon changed my mind since I don’t like riding with cars and stayed on gravel the whole way to Emporia. At first I felt like I was wimping out, but there was nothing but rollers to get out of there. It wouldn’t be an easy ride home and much of it would be with a crosswind and even when I turned to ride with the wind, I still had to pedal up those hills. I gotta say though, riding with a tailwind is about 1,000,000 to the power of 1,000,000 times more enjoyable than riding against a headwind. I figured the wind must have disfigured my friends somewhere in those hills. Bummer, I was wanting to ride with people.
oil tanks
Rollers all the way home. The wind was blowing so hard, I couldn’t keep the camera steady on this shot.
I found out later that my friends bailed after about 60 miles and that was after I was already home. I would have been waiting for a long time to meet up with them. That wind will annihilate anyone. Be ready DK200 riders. None of us finished the first leg or what may have been the first leg and oh yeah, there’s another 100 miles to finish the DK200! This year’s course is going to be sweet! If I finish it, it may be the last thing I do.
That ride left me sore all over. It is taking effort to type this with my stiff fingers. It was exactly what I needed. I am ready to go further next weekend as I ended up getting only about 88 miles in after I checked mileage on the computer. It felt like 100 if that matters.
Feed Your Monkey!
Eric
haha…
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