Feast and Famine on the NJ 600K

For those of you familiar with the excellent events put on by NJ Randonneurs, you’ll know that routes are typically flat or hilly. Both styles have their fans and there’s much to be said for each, but there’s usually not a whole lot in between on the NJ Rando calendar. What grabbed my attention about this season’s 600K is that it was a hybrid route that was BOTH hilly and flat. Day One was a 217-mile mountain goat special and Day Two was a 158-mile flat coastal cruiser. What’s more, the route was cloverleaf-shaped enabling riders to leave fresh clothes and supplies at base camp for the second day. With a plan so logical, what could possibly go wrong?

Since I hoped to be as rested as possible at the 5:00 AM start, I decided to stay overnight at the event hotel rather than drive to the start in the morning. Fortunately, my pals Bill R. and Jan D. were also in town following a long drive so we enjoyed a hearty meal at a local diner before settling in for a full night’s rest. At the start, riders chatted a bit about the forecast which called for a full morning of rain with drier weather on the horizon. As RBA Joe K. reviewed the route with us the skies opened up and we rode off into a wall of rain that would flood roads and not let up until two and a half hours later.

Luckily, Jan and I had agreed to keep the pace in check on the first day to compensate for an utter lack of training on my part and a rough 400K the weekend before on his. As such, we enjoyed the wet morning ride as much as can be expected, but mild temperatures and the knowledge of dry skies ahead helped significantly. NJ Rando stalwart, volunteer and friend Gil L. served up water, Clif bars and good humor at various points throughout the morning, which really helped keep the morale high on this soggy stage. 

The climbing begins in earnest right after the route crosses the Delaware River into PA and we were soon on roads familiar to us from PA Rando events such as the Blue Mountain 400K. There was considerable elevation gain throughout the day, but none of the climbs was particularly epic unlike the various Catskill 600K routes NJ Rando has organized in the past. This ride would be a war of attrition, however, with each spiky roller adding to the damage. By the end of the first day, six riders would DNF.

Following the morning rain, the weather was really quite lovely with a bit of a wind that sometimes helped and occasionally harmed our efforts, but all in all it was a nice day in the saddle. The miles and climbs would have a serious impact on Jan, however, and despite some breaks and soft-pedaling; he would decide to scratch at the control in Easton, PA. Luckily, there was a hotel across the street where he could wait until morning to sort out his transportation back to Vermont.

Luckily, Jan and I were riding with a third rider, Greg K. who made great company on the next 48 miles of evening and night riding to the overnight control, which made the miles go by more quickly. Despite the generally pleasant roads and company, these four dozen miles were rough and I mentally quit the ride at least half a dozen times before reaching the sleep control. This was my first experience with a cloverleaf route and my suspicion that the appeal of quitting half-way through might be stronger with a car sitting in the lot proved to be correct. Despite my misgivings, though, I enjoyed a bit of warm chili and a drink and headed off to shower and sleep setting my alarm for three hours hence just in case I could convince myself to get back onto the saddle.

As is usually the case, three hours of sleep can work wonders and when the alarm went off I jumped up, put on my kit and wheeled my bike back to the common room to fill my bottles and grab some coffee and calories. While flat, the remaining 158-mile stage was longer than I was used to conquering on Day Two of a 600K, so it would be a long day on the saddle regardless of how fast I was pedaling.  Fortunately, some young and spry riders also left the sleep control around the same time so I would not be riding alone through the whole second day.

The heat index climbed as the day progressed, but mercifully, the prevailing winds were out of the east so our march through the Pine Barrens was as easy as it could possibly have been. The roads, while magical and mysterious in some respects in this section, are also remarkably monotonous and so I needed to stop at least once to regain my bearings and snap myself awake lest I fall asleep on the bike as I had done on a previous NJ 600K edition riding through these parts.

Several of us hung together through these miles and enjoyed some well-deserved rest at the penultimate control, but it would be all business on the final stretch and my reserves were just not what I had hoped they might be. As a result, my pace slowed to a crawl and I let the faster riders head off without me. While I had hoped for a 35-hour finish on this event, 37 hours felt respectable considering the terrain and my lack of training this winter and spring. I was especially proud at the finish that I resisted the urge to scratch at the sleep control.  This confidence has convinced me that I’m ready for all that the Million Meters of Milk 1000K may have in store for me in Wisconsin next week. As always, thanks NJ Rando for an absolutely fabulous event. Your support is second to none.

Up next: The Million Meters of Milk 1000K

And the Hills Went on Forever: The Boston 600K

July 23 is unusually late in the season to be clipping in for a 600K brevet, but for a number of reasons, this was the first and only event of this distance on the RUSA calendar located in the Northeast that would fit into my schedule this year. I was also eager to ride this route since I've heard great things about Boston 600K events and have enjoyed riding with New England Randonnuers in the past. This plan also fit my goal to ride a complete SR series this year on routes I have never previously ridden. Finally, this event provided me with the opportunity to catch up with friends on Friday night a few miles from the start and to ride with my friend Jan D. with whom I had recently completed a team arrow event.

Apparently, this particular 600K route was first created in 2015 to provide those preparing to ride in Paris-Brest-Paris with a route containing similar conditions. As on P-B-P, the climbing is never particularly severe, but it is at times relentless, as it is through the hills and farmland of Brittany. There were even several times during the weekend when images of northern France came flooding back to me such as they did when I snapped the picture above.

After the sun came up, Jan and I rode through the first control stopping only to get our cards signed. We had fallen in with a quick group riding at a brisk pace and it felt right to be making good time before the heat of the day was upon us. We stopped at the second control just 11 miles down the road from the first where I enjoyed a ham and cheese sandwich and an iced coffee before filling my bottles with ice water courtesy of the kind-hearted souls at the busy truck stop.

Not long after our control stop, the day became hot, hot, hot just as we left behind the shaded roads we had been riding most of the morning in favor of the more open farmland of the CT River Valley. The one merciful aspect of a strong headwind is a cooling breeze, so we shouldered on without complaining too much. At one point in our journey, we came upon a swimming hole in a secluded river where Jake had set-up a secret control. I was happy to refuel with Gatorade and cold pickles while Jan took the opportunity for a quick dip.

We hit Brattleboro just in time for an early dinner at the Brattleboro Food Coop that served as the northernmost control on the route. The food selection was outstanding. I wolfed down some pizza, chicken salad and a piña colada smoothie that was simply out of this world. Jan needed to take a bit of a break to regulate his body temperature and I was more than happy to take a few extra minutes to rest here as well after a long day in the saddle. Luckily, our friend Nigel and a cyclist from ME named Chris, with whom we rode earlier in the day before his crank broke, showed up with appetites and we all agreed to depart together.

The road south to western Massachusetts provided not only a gentle average descent of at least 3-5%, but was also fueled by a mighty tailwind generated by the storm at our backs. Every now and then I looked over my shoulder to see the skies darkening just a little bit more with intermittent bolts of lightening crashing to earth behind us. It seemed as if we might outrun this storm, but as the skies darkened, we began to look for porches and barns within which to sit out the worst of it should it come to hit us with full force. Luckily, we seemed to catch only the edge of the storm and the rains were light enough that I did not even feel the need to pull over to the side of the road to put on my rain jacket.

The storm subsided just as we were riding through the fields of Deerfield near the start of D2R2 and a magnificent double rainbow appeared before us on the horizon. The storm brought cooler air just as the sun was setting so it became clear that our evening ahead would be far more comfortable than the afternoon hours had been.

We stopped for a second dinner around 10:00 pm in a small town that was reputed to contain the last services for the next 45 miles to the sleep stop in Williamstown. It was good that our stomachs and water bottles were full as we climbed the long and steady hills through the Berkshires to the town of North Adams. None of the hills struck me as too severe, but many were long and reminded me very much of my nighttime approach to Mortagne on P-B-P last summer. I do so love riding with friends on quiet roads at night after a rain, when the air is crisp and clean. As we passed the midnight hour, several of us grew sleepy and searched for a safe and dry place to lay down our heads for a few minutes to jump-start our attentiveness and enjoyment. After a bit of searching, we found a perfect spot for a 15-minute catnap at the top of a hill by a small village hall with sloping handicap access ramps. From here it was not far to the sleep stop located in a lovely house with warm food and dry floor on which to sleep. 

I had sent a sleeping bag ahead with my drop bag so was very happy to catch a few hours of shut-eye before heading off into the foggy morning light. I laid my head down at 2:05 am and must have been asleep by 2:07. I awoke with my alarm at 5:15 am and quickly packed up my gear and put on a fresh jersey for the ride ahead. Jan and Nigel had awakened earlier and Chris was still sleeping along with several other riders, so I clipped in and rode off by myself confident that I would run into others before too long.

As luck would have it, I did not really see much of anyone for the rest of the day and my ride became a solo effort with passing contact with a few other riders at spots I stopped along with way to refuel. At one point near South Deerfield, I waved at a passing rider wearing a telltale Rapha jersey only to be accosted several minutes later with cheers of “Hey George, how are you?” It turns out that John B. who recently moved to the area from Boston, recognized me and came over to share the road for a few minutes. Social media is a funny thing. It's not uncommon these days to run into friends you rarely see and have them ask you questions about your most recent activities they've been following online in real time. In this way, I knew that John had recently returned from a trip to Ireland and he knew of my summertime love affair with my new Brompton folding bike. After a few minutes, we went our separate ways and I was reminded of what great friends we make on these rides and how nice it is to feel the warmth of the cycling community in places far and wide.

As the heat of the day reached its peak, I stopped in Petersham Country Store where I enjoyed a delicious curried chicken salad wrap and a homemade iced cold brew coffee. Sitting on the porch to keep an eye on my bike, I noticed a police officer ambling over. Convinced I’d done something wrong, I managed my most courteous “hello” and it turned out he was a fellow cyclist simply eager to discuss the ride and cycling in general with a sympathetic audience. Soon it was time for me to hit the road again in order to make my final push to the finish.

As I hit the rollers into the final control, time seemed to stand still, or speed up, I’m not sure which. Despite the passage of time, I seemed to be making no progress at all as the horizon disappeared in front of me. At first, I had hoped to complete the ride by 4:00 pm, which (at 36 hours) would represent a middling effort at the 600K distance, an acceptable time for an event filled with socializing and sleep. As the day wore on, however, my 4:00 pm goal seemed less and less realistic and it increasingly looked as if 6:00 pm might come and go as well.

As I neared the finish, I saw Nigel loading his bike into his parked car. He urged me on and told me that he’d return to the finish in a few minutes. So I completed the day as it had begun: solo and a little sleepy. At 38:50, this would be my absolute slowest time on a 600K brevet, including the time I actually broke my arm midway through. And yet, it did not feel like a failure in any respect. On the contrary, I was reminded anew of how much I love randonneuring with its emphasis on camaraderie, teamwork and endurance. Completing an event within the required time limit is non-negotiable for me, but while I may have internal goals for particular events, these are all relatively easy to sacrifice in the interest of good times and adventure.

Qualified! The Catskill 600K Ride Report

The Catskill 600K out of Westfield, MA is one of my all-time favorite brevets. As I've written before, this one has a little bit of everything: epic hills, rolling farmland, quaint Hudson Valley towns, abundant roadkill and more! The most noteworthy characteristic of this year's Catskill 600K, though, from my point of view, is that it marks the final qualifying brevet in my run-up to PBP.

There was a small field on this late season event with only 13 riders clipping in at the 4:00 am start. Fortunately, several were friends of mine so the early leg of the ride was filled with anticipation and small talk as we caught up and discussed plans for both the current weekend as well as PBP down the road. One of my friends, Patrick C. did not even need this brevet for PBP qualification having recently completed the NJ 600K, but he was up for adventure and hung in there like the true pro that he is throughout the weekend. By the time we reached the first control, the field had spread out a bit so that it was just Patrick and me riding together. We held onto this partnership for the rest of the event with Chris T., Jim R., and David D. riding at roughly the same pace just a short distance behind us. This would be confirmed each time we pulled out of a control to see this group rolling in throughout the second half of the ride. 

Most of us hit the sleep stop at about the same time, due to a nasty flat I developed as we pulled into Saratoga Springs in the gentle night rain. When I couldn't find the sharp culprit, I was pleased that Patrick recommended simply using the spare tire I packed for emergencies.  The sleep stop was moved about 12 miles closer to the start this year, which was excellent as I far prefer crossing the rollers into Cambridge, NY in the morning rather than late, late, late at night. After a delicious dinner of lasagna, salad, pickles and salty chips, we took turns showering and falling into bed in one of three rooms devoted to the purpose.

Patrick and I optimistically gave Mary a 3:30 am wake-up request, which allowed us 90 minutes of solid sleep. Rolling out at 4:00 am was not as painful as it might have been, but it was not so wonderful either. The skies were brightening, but the rain fell as a mixture of thick fog and drizzle and we feared it was only a matter of time before it worsened. After the morning rollers, we hit Cambridge and confessed that we both really needed some additional rest. We found a Stewart's Shop with hot coffee and warm benches and set our alarms for 30 minutes to allow for a solid caffeine nap to regain our focus. I'm pleased to report that we both knocked off immediately and found the nap remarkably restorative.

The break in Cambridge allowed Bob O., who had slept a little longer at the overnight control, to leap frog us so when we arrived in Bennington, VT, we met up at the McDonald's for coffee and eggs. We knew that the next 15 miles were destined to be all about climbing, so we lingered as long as possible to ensure that we were fully caffeinated and caloried for the ride ahead. The climbing starts almost immediately upon leaving Bennington and represents the final epic climb of the route. Once at the top of the pass, riders must continue through a series of rollers, but soon the route involves quite a bit of descending into and through Western Massachusetts.

Patrick, Bob and I would ride together for the balance of the day with a nice stop in Shelburne Falls at the legendary McCuskers Market for lunch. The skies cleared in the afternoon and, as luck would have it, we even ran into ride organizer Don P. about 30 miles from the finish and so had a lovely conversation (complete with a motivating pace) on the final approach. Ultimately, we finished in 37:20, which was far slower than I had originally hoped, but well within the required time for PBP qualification. Thanks to the attentive approach taken by the Don, Lois S. at RUSA HQ and the ACP liaison in France, results were processed in record time and I found myself officially registered for PBP within 48 hours of completing the 600K. This meant that I successfully made it within the pre-qualification window and would not lose my spot at the 5:00 am start with the rest of the 84-hour group.

While I might like to feel a bit stronger at this point in the season, I could not be happier with my qualification for PBP, which represents an accomplishment years in the making. There are still many details to line up yet so far, everything has fallen into place. With only 52 days left until the start, though, I need to redouble my training efforts without crossing the line into overtraining and compromising my ultimate performance.

Up next: Plenty of riding both near and far. The Catskills Climbfest 200K permanent on July 12 should provide a good tune-up as well as a way to measure my overall fitness as I work to dial in my exact PBP strategy.

Allons-y!

The Catskill 600K: The Perfect Brevet?

The Catskill 600K is one of my all-time favorite brevets. It seems to have everything: stunning views, epic climbs, thrilling descents, plenty of low traffic roads and incredible support, put on by an all-star team that includes organizer Don P. and his family as well as PBP ancien Brian B. who operates the sumptuous Woodstock control where riders take lunch at mile 110 just before entering the big hills. Not only is this route ideal, but the weather on this edition was simply perfect. Temperatures rose into the 70s with no wind or humidity of which to speak.

The route out of Westfield is lovely, ridden over smooth roads with no traffic. As the sun rises, which happens early on June 21, riders are treated to the bucolic misty fields of Litchfield County, CT. I realize that the uniformity of the Colonial architecture will transition into hardscrabble chaos later in the day as we enter the Catskills, but for now, I'm soaking in the views. The quick pace at the start settled down with several rabbits jumping off the front intent on riding this one for “time.” I decided not to attempt to keep up with those at the front of the pack and so instead settled into a comfortable pace on Rt. 40 which brought me all the way up to the NYS border at Millerton where I met up with Andrey and David who would be my riding companions well into the wee hours of the night when we finally arrived at the sleep control in Cambridge, but I am getting ahead of myself.

The ride through the Litchfield Hills into Eastern New York is gorgeous and Rhinebeck, on the shores of the Hudson River, is a gem. It’s always fun to ride down Main Street on a brevet as I often run into someone I know and this time it was Susan, a former colleague who shouted out “are you on one of those long rides of yours?” as I came to rest at the one stop light in town. “Yup, Westfield to Saratoga” I replied, not sure I had the heart to include, “and then Cambridge, Bennington and Shelburne Falls before heading back to my car in Westfield."

After our cruise through Rhinebeck’s civilized downtown center, we turned north on River Road, which afforded us spectacular, panoramic views of the Catskill Mountains we would be riding in for much of the afternoon.  The view is a bit closer and grander from the top of the Kingston-Rhinecliff Bridge a bit further down the road, but there is little time to savor it while each rider seeks to stay safely within the shoulder while avoiding sharp debris laying in wait. Once on the western shore of the Hudson, we make the short climb into Woodstock, (a harbinger of the hard work ahead) and we arrive at the control ready for lunch promptly at noon. This time around, Andrey's family is there to greet us, which was an unexpected treat.

The climbing out of Woodstock is never insane, but definitely gets one's attention all the way up to the next control in Windham. Shortly after leaving the Windham control where there is a fully stocked bike shop with professional mechanics, I blew the front derailleur cable and so was stuck with the use of my small front chain ring for the balance of the ride. With all of the climbing left to go, this was not a show stopper, but it would have been pretty difficult to maintain a 20mph+ average on the "flats" in a paceline. Good thing there were no flats to speak of on the remaining sections of this route. I actually found that the high cadence work helped to restore the vitality of my legs and will remember, when dragging along on future rides, to shift into a lower gear and avoid looking at the speedometer.

Midway through the ride, I began to consider petitioning Don to change the name of the event to the “Roadkill 600” as a result of all the local fauna in evidence on the course. Over the course of the ride I saw at least one of each of these animals (no longer breathing) on the pavement: Blue Jay, House Sparrow, Snake, Turtle, Weasel, Chipmunk, Squirrel, Groundhog, Opossum, Cat, Skunk and  . . . wait for it . . . a Black Bear. While some of these are “life-listers,” we strangely saw no roadkill of the deer or a rabbit variety, both of which are common sights along these rural roads.

It’s not uncommon for me to encounter a period of dark despair on a long ride and on the Catskill 600 this year, this time came as we made our way from Schenectady to Saratoga. Riding in the dark can be a joyful, meditative and clarifying experience or it can be sheer hell. On Sunday morning, between midnight and two a.m. it was the latter.

Like Mother Theresa, though, Don’s daughter Mary ministered to the beaten and downtrodden among us with offers of hot lasagna and salad. After a quick bite and a hot shower, I headed off to catch a few winks before getting back on my bike for the final push.

90 minutes later, amidst a chorus of snoring, I awoke to a quick coffee and a bite to eat and clipped in for a very pleasant ride from Cambridge down into Bennington. This is a lovely stretch of road, which is relatively flat and filled with stunning views along the rural NY-VT border. Since I often catch this ride at dawn after a rest, I am often overwhelmed by the beauty of the area and this day was no exception.

In Bennington, a group of us stopped for a protein-rich breakfast at McDonald's and contemplated the ominous climb ahead. We all knew that after we clipped in, we faced a serious hill whose peak was about 2000 feet above our heads and required cycling up about 6 miles of road to get to. Luckily, my cocktail of rest, food, coffee and 600 mg. of ibuprofen was working its magic and I hit the hill with a new set of legs. I felt a bit like Floyd Landis on the 2006 Tour. After topping the climb there is some lovely high meadow riding until a right turn introduces serious downward motion in the trek towards Shelburne Falls where there awaits a most amazing control filled gourmet sandwiches of all shapes and sizes, which serves as a powerful magnet indeed. I was rejoined in this section by Chris, Jim and John who became fast friends and enjoyable riding partners for the remainder of the day.

The final push from the Shelburne Falls control to Westfield is beset by some of the most terrible road surfaces I have ever had the displeasure of riding. Did the highway supervisor abscond with the funds? Are the locals numb from the waist down? I can’t understand the source of such utter civil neglect. Needless to say, this makes the course harder than it needs to be, but it was a joy to know that the end of the route was less than a hour away. After a final beating on these roads into Westfield, the four of us arrived at the New Horizon's Bike shop at 4:10, just over 36 hours after we left. 

Lessons learned (or remembered):

• Riding with others is generally more fun than riding alone.
• My digestive system seems to prefer real food to synthetic nutritional aids.
• Sleep deprivation takes a toll. Go into a long ride with a full tank.
• Plan to sleep after a long ride before driving home.
• Battery-powered lights are a serious distraction. Swap wheels when I swap bikes to always undertake night rides with the dynamo hub or buy fresh Lithium batteries as a last resort.
• Bring ear plugs to any overnight brevet. “Nuf said.

Next Up: Lap of the Lake 1000K in two weeks.

·      

The Westfield 600K: A Super Randonneur Again!

This was not the first time I've ridden the Westfield 600K, but it was the first time I've completed an event of this distance since my August 2010 accident. I love riding in the Catskill Mountains and I can't think of a nicer way to complete my super "re-randonneur" season. Other than a few sprinkles at the start, the weather was outstanding; warm, but not too hot with little humidity and virtually no wind.

In Woodstock, Brian and Doug organized the most gracious checkpoint I've ever encountered. They made sandwiches, filled water bottles and was generally made riders feel like royalty.

Right after Woodstock, our work really began with the climb through Devil's Tombstone. The Catskill Mountains sure look a bit different up close.

After the Catskills, we enjoyed a sweet descent down the backside of Windham Mountain into a rolling section that inched towards Albany through the Helderbergs.

The least scenic section of the route involves the stretch through Schnectedy, but I was able to find a small slice of beauty anyway. If you can forget that GE dumped millions of tons of PCBs into the Hudson over the years, it's easier to see the beauty.

I woke up on Sunday with a sour stomach, but upon arriving in Bennington, VT, I craved an egg sandwich. Sadly, the only place I could find this protein-rich delicacy was at McDonald's. It was delicious and the coffee hit the spot too, and helped fuel me up the monster hill just east of town.

While I was generally well-hydrated throughout the event, at some points, I wondered about halucinations. Take this milk bottle for instance. Doesn't it make YOU thirsty?

So in all, it was a great weekend. I learned that 600 kilometers is still within my reach. While this was not my worst time on an event of this distance, it was certainly not my best. I returned to Westfield with strength, confidence and the hope that with more training and conditioning, I will be able to ride greater distances and at higher speeds.

It's Starting to Look Like a Season

After a long, weird warm winter, spring is now solidly here and my brevet and ultra race season is beginning to take shape.  I had to postpone my first official brevet due to a work conflict, but my next event is almost here. I had planned to kick off brevet season with the classic Princeton (NJ) 200, but rode a local 200K permanent on the same day to cut out the excess transportation time that would have made me late to the school's annual action benefit.  So next weekend's Princeton 300K will be my first time riding with a crowd this year.

I plan to follow this over Memorial Day weekend with the flat NJ 400K that takes in large swaths of NJ Pine Barrens that transports me back to high school camping trips with friends in the 1980s. A month later I'll take in the Westfield (MA) 600K that rolls over familiar roads in MA, CT, NY and VT. I'll need to fit an ACP 200K in somewhere along the way to round out the official Super Randonneur award, but that could happen as late as next September. In addition to these brevets, I'm lined up to compete in the Saratoga 12-hour race again on the first weekend in July. This old favorite will be great fun. I'm quite eager to see what kind of speed and endurance I can muster over the next two months. It will be a great measure of my post-accident recovery against my past times on the event. Later this summer, I'll also be riding the D2R2 in Western MA.

• May 12 - Princeton 300K
• May 26 - Heightstown 400K [Change of plans - family conflict]
• June 9 - Central/Western NY 400K
• June 23/24 - Westfield 600K
• July 7 - Saratoga 12-hour race [Change of plans - family conflict]
• August 18 - D2R2
• September 8 - NYC 200K

Up next: the BikeNY Five Borough Bike Tour on Sunday. A father-son tradition continues. Stay tuned.

Gone fishin'

Well, it looks like that spill I took on the Cranbury 600K back in June actually fractured my humerus. It's funny when you're sitting in the doctor's office and the diagnosis of a broken bone is actually GOOD news. I was very glad to hear that I had not torn my rotator cuff, though. Anyway, it looks like I'm off the bike for four weeks with my arm in a sling. This corresponds with a whirlwind family vacation that was not to include cycling of any great proportion anyway, so the timing is actually not bad.

I'm sure glad I listened to my wife and sat out the recent Lap of the Lake 1000K. Finishing the 600 with a broken arm is one thing, but 620 miles is another altogether. I just submitted my registration and hope to be recovered and able to ride the Endless Mountains 1000K in late August. The doctor didn't say yes and he didn't say no, but I may have neglected to mention the actual distance . . . Time will tell.

Close but No Cigar (or how I almost rode 375 miles in 24 hours).

Having followed RAAM pretty closely this month, I’m humbled by what it means for some people to miss meeting an audacious cycling goal. My BHAG (or big hairy audacious goal) this season was to meet the Cyclos Montagnard R60 Challenge. Having completed three brevets (200, 300 and 400) within the time constraints, I was hoping to finish the NJ600 within 24 hours to achieve this honor. Signs looked good: the route was basically flat, the start was at 10 pm (bringing the sleepy second half of the ride into broad daylight), there were reasonably spaced controls (so not too much time would be lost there), the weather looked favorable (if a bit hot) and there were some speedy riders registered so I would likely have company. Despite all this, I was simply unable to do it. Sleep deprivation took its toll and as a result of a reduced pace and a crash in the last third of the ride, I rolled into the finish with a time of 25:50. This marks my fastest time yet on a 600K, but it was not quite fast enough for the R60. Looks like it’s R70 for me this year, but the first three R60 finish times remain on record and are transferable next year. All I have to do is slay the 24 hour 600 and I’m in. Looks like I have my work cut out for me.

The NJ600 brought out 44 randonneurs this past weekend. It was my first nighttime start and I was eager to meet and reconnect with friends and acquaintances. The organizer let the fast riders out first to spread the bikes out along the road. Within the first 20 miles, I settled into a comfortable pace, a bit slower than the two lead riders and met up with Anthony with whom I would ride the whole event. We enjoyed each other’s company, rode at about the same pace, and were willing to manage our ride with our “eyes on the prize.”

The riding on Friday night was majestic. We were blessed with clear skies, mild temperatures and a full moon. The roads were quite smooth and direct and it was pleasant not to have to navigate twisty descents in the dark and we were subsequently able to maintain a healthy pace throughout the night. Anthony and I hit the Jersey Shore at dawn which was a highlight of the day. At this hour it's possible to pedal by marshes filled with elegant shore birds and shore towns free of summer traffic. As the sun rose, though, it became hotter and more humid than was optimal. With temps around 95 on fully exposed roads and a nutrition balance a bit out of kilter, I found myself nauseated for big stretches of the day.

The NJ Randonneurs did an outstanding job of organizing support for this event. We were met at each of the ubiquitous Wawa convenience store controls by volunteers and the highlight was a mid-afternoon cold shower and a few pickles in the organizer’s home. The break was rejuvenating and we set out with fresh legs and full bottles. Chris, one of the two lead riders, greeted Anthony and me as we arrived and took off alone leaving his fellow rider Doug behind for some rest. We would meet up a few more times and trade pulls with Chris along the way, yet despite a sore knee, he was just too strong for the two of us so we let him go in search of his own 24-hour brass ring.

It was hard to stay fast and focused on Saturday afternoon and eventually this was my undoing. At mile 309, in the bright mid-day heart of the desolate Pine Barrens, I lost focus and veered off the edge of the road and into a sandpit. Unable to keep the bike upright, I fell to the ground hard bracing myself with both hands on the asphalt road. Luckily there was no traffic at that time, the bike did not sustain any damage and I was not too injured to continue riding. At that moment, though, Anthony looked at me and said, “Maybe this is a sign that we should back off that 24-hour goal.”

I thought the 10 pm start would actually help, but I think it actually made a fast time more difficult. Since I was unable to sleep during the day on Friday, by time Saturday afternoon crawled along I was mighty tired indeed. An evening start is arguably good preparation for a longer brevet for riders who plan to sleep at some point during the 600 so they get the experience of riding over two nights, but for someone trying to finish within 24 hours, the distance between sleep on Thursday night and Saturday afternoon may be too great for a fast time.

The last fifty miles were pretty brutal. At times, I was literally looking on lawns for places to curl up for a few minutes as I saw objects on the roadside and had trouble keeping focused on the matter at hand. At 11:50 pm, Anthony and I rolled into the finish as riders 2 and 3. While I knew I could have done better, I was grateful that nothing more serious happened out on the roads of southern New Jersey. I’ll need to plan very carefully for sleep and rest the next time around.

The thing about audacious goals is that they push you beyond what you think it possible. As I looked towards this season from the comfort of my winter couch, the Cyclos Montagnards R70 Challenge looked more like my speed. A funny thing happened by setting a higher goal than I thought I could reach. I rode three event distances at "personal best" times and got 3/4 of the way to a level I was not sure was possible. So while technically missing my goal, I have much to feel pleased with and learned what I need to do to go even further next time.

(Photo by Owl's Flight - Flickr CC)