A Tale of Two Races (the second race)

A portion of the 103 miles of gravel

We knew that the race up till this point had been easy, relatively speaking. Sure there were some hills, but the wind helped with those. What we were waiting for was the turn back to Rochester. We got a little taste of the wind between St. Charles and Chatfield and on to Spring Valley, but the valleys and hills were the highlight of that stretch. There is some beautiful country in Southeast Minnesota and we saw it from a bike seat. There is no better way to see it.

One of the countless hills

I could go on and on about the hills. We went from grinding up them in the lowest gear at 5-7 mph to white-knuckling it down at 30+ mph. We of course liked the downs but as the race went on, rather than purely enjoying the downhills, there was a voice in the back of your mind reminding you of the next grinding uphill.

There was a time cutoff in Spring Valley, 63 miles into the race. We had to be there by 2pm. We showed up at 2:10. We were hoping as we came into town that Chris would change that given the wind and the fact that there were still several riders behind us. Fortunately, that was the case. The new cut-off time when we rolled in was 2:30. We made it.

We checked in, got the second set of tulip cards and headed for the gravel rider's favorite restaurant: the gas station. The Kwik Trip in Spring Valley did brisk business that day as I'm sure just about every racer stopped there. After refilling water bottles and the Camelbak, enjoying some chocolate milk and a ham and cheese sandwich, we were on our way once again.

Rest stop

Anybody who rides longer distance knows that it can take many miles to get the legs again after stopping. Unfortunately, we wouldn't have a chance to ease our legs into it after our stop. We were now facing the full teeth of the wind out of town with no end in sight. It was incessant. I thought I was going to blow-up. The legs didn't have it anymore. It reminded me of the last few miles of the Fat Tire 40, except we had 40 miles still to go. Big D was riding strong and I was trying to get any draft off of him I could. The wind was too strong and we were going slow enough that it was hard to find the sweet-spot. That is to say nothing about the fact he was just about riding me off his wheel.

Notice the flag and trees

After a couple of miles, I needed to stop. I felt bad about that as Big D was riding well, but he was kind enough to comply with my wish. I needed my iPod. I needed something to drown out the howl in my ears from the wind. I needed something to take my mind off of 40 miles of wind and hills. I needed something so I could go inside myself. I needed some music.

Bruce Springsteen, Wilco, The Gaslight Anthem, Kings of Leon, Dire Straits, Steve Earle, Coldplay. I'd like to thank all of them for the last 40 miles.

The next 25 miles are a blur of gravel, wind, hills, music. We kept eating, drinking and pedaling. We met and rode with a woman from Rochester. We would ride together for a short time, she would stop to walk a bit, and then would pass us again when we would stop. We leap-frogged each other until the finish. Mentally, for me, it was helpful to see another suffering as much as us. That doesn't sound very nice, and I wish she wasn't suffering, but it was nice to know we weren't alone out there.

Down the hill, across the bridge, and back up the hill

As we neared Rochester, our spirits rose, knowing we would finish this thing. There was even a short section with the wind; it was like Christmas morning. One last push into the wind on gravel and then pavement to the finish line, including a paved downhill at 35 mph. Hearing the cowbell and cheers after 11 hours on the bike was perfect. Shaking the hand of the organizer, Chris, after finishing was pure class on his part. Never at a race had I had that kind of appreciation for finishing 62nd out of 66. Again, pure class and it shows his love of cycling and in particular, the Almanzo.

A couple of beers (thanks Summit), a water bottle for finishing, a congratulations and thanks to pedalgrl, and a final thanks to Chris and we were off. It was a fun day in the end. I learned a bit more about how far I could push myself, both physically and more importantly, mentally. On the ride home, Big D and I were already talking about next year's race as well as other gravel adventures ahead.

JRA

Scott S.