Fakahatchee Grind: sufferfest Part II

The start was an informal rolling start and with a shout it began.  We hit the road and withing 200 feet I knew we were in for a painful day.  The road was washboard and the shoulders were very soft sand so there was not mild areas.  After a couple of miles, I adjusted the air pressure in the kids tires to try to eat up some of the chatter.  

Speaking of chatter, the kids were nearing mutiny.  The first 7 miles took just over an hour with all of the little breaks to adjust.  At that rate, we were moving at the speed of smell and were not going to be done anytime soon.  We arrived at a small bridge and I decided it was a good place to lean our bikes for a few minutes.  

Nothing but blue sky....

Trying to look motivated....sort of.

Managing fluid and calorie intake is not always easy with kids.  I understand the concept, however, getting them to eat every 40 min or so is challenging.  They snacked a little and then we hit the road, it seemed to smooth up a little bit and attitudes changed slightly.  We cruised for while when off in the distance I could see the I-75 interstate overpass.  I seemed like an eternity to get there.  This is actually one of the most challenging aspects of riding in Florida.  

Whether it is trees like this or open glades, the view doesn't change and the roads tend to be long and straight.

We certainly know that mountains  or even small hills, are not an issue in Southern Florida, but the strait line and distances of the roads kind of messes with the mind.  I was beginning to get frustrated, you actually don’t feel like you are going anywhere.  The horizon, it is a place, you can see it, but you can never get there.  That is how it feels to ride in the hinterlands of Southern Florida.  

It was the best shade we would have for a long while so we stopped under the I-75 overpass and had some decent food.  I broke out the fruit and nut mix, hoping they would eat more than power bars and gels.  This ended the first round of the Grief Cycle.  It was a short distance from there to the Bear Island, Big Cypress Campground area and the roads were in great shape.  

As we turned into the Bear Island Campground, there were three rednecks fishing.  Textbook coveralls and all.  A man had just reeled in what appeared to be an Oscar.  I had friends groing up that had Oscars, I never thought to fish for them….  Anyway, I asked the man and he confirmed that is what it was.  He stated that they are invasive and easy to catch, especially with bread.   Then the lady approached me and said they tasted really good too, not as good as bass, but good.  Then another man said, “there is another fishing spot just around the corner, there is more room for the kids, but whatch out for the one eyed alligator.  If it comes near, just get the kids out of the way.”  Always nice to get good life hacks like this.

 Smooth as glass........

We started turning the cranks again and found that this stretch was the best we would encounter all day.  Shade and a packed sandy road that was smooth and hard packed as any asphalt road.  We enjoyed seeing lots of alligators, but this stretch came to a quick end.  It was time to start the return and we got onto highway 29 and began heading South, I thought that the kids would love being on pavement for a while, however this turned out to be the beginning of the second bout with the stages of grief.  

Sometimes it is necessary to taste the bitter in order to know what sweet is.  This was hero dirt.

 It is Florida, in the middle of a huge swamp.  We met the biggest alligator we have seen to date!

Off course there was a grass in front of my face.  Oh well, nobody wants to look at me.

After this stretch, it was about 15 miles of pavement and it would turn out to be the no fun.  The road runs through a panther preserve and it, like just about every other road is straight and the view doesn’t change much.  As stated earlier, this also leads to a certain amount of frustration, especially since it was warming up to the low 80s.  The no shade was becoming an issue and the crosswind was annoying.  The grief cycle began again, for a second time.  We eventually sought sanctuary under a large tree and sat in the shade a little while.  Then we took off for the only water stop on the ride.  

When we arrived at the designated water spot, we found the ice chest full of ice and water.  It was cold and refreshing and we filled hydration bags and water bottles.  I planned on taking a longer break there since the grass was mowed and the area was shady.  We were a few minutes from leaving when Karlos showed, he offered us sandwiches and cold Coke.  

This truly saved the afternoon, thus ending the second grief cycle.  We hit the road for the final few miles of pavement.  Then it happened again, we turned East onto the final 15 mile stretch which included the first 7 miles of the route.  Fortunately for us, the other 7 or 8 miles was just as bad with plenty of washboard and prepared us for the final stretch.  It was at this point that the kids began their third iteration of the grief cycle.  Their was denial that the last 14 miles would be bad, then there was anger.....intense anger, followed by bargaining, then depression, and finally acceptance that they still had to get to the car.

 Last stop before the finish, only 7 miles left!

We took our final break at the intersection that would take us South on our last seven miles.  It was rough and slow.  The kids continued to crank through quietly focused on finishing.  I tried to pump them up with some music from the Rocky IV soundtrack (to no avail).  In the distance I saw a car stopped and a guy hanging out with a camera, no big deal, probably an alligator sunning on the road.  As we got closer I saw that it was a snake and Diga was heading right towards it.  I yelled for him to move over, he looked back at me and asked "what."  Just as I yelled snake, it opened it's mouth hissing at him from about one foot away.  Nothing like a close encounter with a cottonmouth to liven up and re-energize the last three miles.  This closed out the third cycle of grief.

The event ended with us spending a total of 7-8 hours on the course (total time moving and resting).  The kids completed 59 miles, their furthest and no doubt hardest to date.  Carlos from the Single Track Samurai put together a great route, that was no doubt a challenge for anyone who participated.  Next year, we will do the back country version and we might even train.  

An honorable mention from Karlos.

 I wiped away a bit of dust (below brake cable) to demonstrate the layer of dust on Chick's bike.

Camping Adventures with the kids: Or Camping Part I and Camping Part II

Louisiana is hot, so our adventures have been reserved mostly for the winter.  My boys love camping.  I think the word love is an understatement!  All I have to say is camp and they all have their backpacks packed and are ready to go.  They are also full of energy so I decided that we would ride to the campsite.  Some call it bicycle touring, some call it bikepacking.  Call it what you will but we loaded up our rides and went.  The first attempt was a little over the top.  But I wouldn't expect anything else from the Tsunami.    



A little over the top!



To begin with, Newbie keeps track of camping by number, as in Camping part 1.  He is up to camping part 5.   Camping part I involved me loading up the BOB Yak trailer.  The BOB trailer is a great way to haul gear.  It is very stable when moving, aside from the weight of the gear, I barely notice it is there.  The trailer can haul a lot and I pushed it beyond reason.  When loaded properly it is smooth.  It was not smooth.  The draw back is when stopped, it is hard to park and tough to turn around in tight places.  

It just so happened that when we arrived at our destination, I put my foot down on a fire ant home.  I will spare you the gore and detailed photo of what fire ants can do.  In a panic I lost control of the BOB and bike.  Needless to say there was some carnage there with a bent deraillure hanger.  There was also a need for benedryl and some days of pain to follow, the swelling of my ankle was intense.  But this isn't about me, so I powered through.

Vance is a lucky young man with a Porcelain Rocket Booster to haul his sleeping gear.  A shout out to Glenn Charles who donated it to the cause

The boys are great sports.  Nine miles can be a long way with little legs.  It typically involves a stop at the 5 mile mark where we get some refreshments at a gas station.  A snack and a shared soda, sometimes a slice of Hunt Brothers pizza.

Diga loves the out doors.  He finds toads and bugs fascinating.  I personally hate catching grass hoppers.  Diga, no issues.  This is why we do it though.  I would rather have them running around outside exploring nature than sitting around the house.  

Vance found a stick bug.  It is hard to see but it is there.  The boy loves bugs.

Camping part two was a little different.  I loaded up the Mukluk.  Admittedly a slower ride with a 1x10 30 tooth crank.  But I was riding with an 7 year old and 10 year old.  I carried almost as much stuff and it is extremely stable.  The Mukluk is an amazing bike and the Old Man Mountain Phat Rack and Porcelain Rocket handle bar bag are delightful.  I have always loved the Jeff Jones Loop H-Bar on that rig.

The area we went camping had done some tree maintenance and there were some large limbs strewn about.  They were green still and wouldn't burn well but the boys didn't know that.  They spent time gathering these limbs.

Team Work!

I suppose in a few years, if they read this, they will find out these wouldn't burn.



And more team work.

House Hold 6 brought Newbie out.  They all ran around and then we started the fire.  I allow them to poke at it.  I don't know anyone that isn't mesmerized by a fire.  In case you are wondering, she brought the chairs, those were not in the panniers.  The run around until they absolutely crash.  Newbie  is usually the first to tap out and go to bed.  

On morning of Camping part two there was a soul crushing wind so only Diga and I rode home.  Nater and Newbie hitched a ride.  I really only think Diga did it for the snack at the half way point.  He is an easy one to bribe.  A slice of pizza and some root beer and he is in.

Using the drops to get out of the wind!  I love this guy!!!

The Rouge Roubaix Gran Fondo: Part 1

First off, this was an amazing event.  It is well organized, challenging, and different.  What really makes this event memorable for me though was the camaraderie of the participants that I rode with.  I have said it before, I love moving around the nation and participating in different events.  This is the epitome of that.

The Rouge Roubaix is quite possibly one of the best rides I have been on.  Advertised as a ride to determine true grit, it lives up to its name.  There are two events, a bona fide race, and a Gran Fondo (pretentious for a non-completive century).  Of course I don’t race so I signed up for the Gran Fondo.  As usual, I did so late in the game.  St. Francisville is a small between Baton Rouge, LA and the Mississippi border.  I began to call for a hotel room and found a lack of them in the area.  I booked a room at what turned out to be the hotel where the race starts.  Sometimes even a blind squirrel finds a nut.  

Upon looking it up I found that it wasn’t geographically that far away, but thanks to the rivers and swamps in Louisiana, it was a pain to get there.  Driving anywhere in Louisiana is an adventure, the roads are horrible, most are narrow and winding as they pass through small town after small town.

    

   

      

I have gotten a little smarter over the years and with an ok paycheck and vaction days I now take the day off to drive and get there early the day before and when possible spend multiple nights rather than ride one hundred miles and then drive.  When I arrived I was excited to see Mavic support outside of the hotel.  

      

    

I went inside and picked up my packet, nice swag bag (the ride was pricey) with sweatshirt, T-shirt, and water bottle.  It also came with a voucher for a few local restaurants.  I unpacked, unloaded my stuff and went to dinner.  I chose a place called the Magnolia Cafe and found something that reminded me of Missoula, MT.  A restaurant in a house, some walls were opened but it was fun to be in what were obviously different rooms.  

        

     

I ordered an amazing steak, far execeeding any of my expectations.  Of course it was nearly $30 but with the voucher my wife would think I was being very reasonable with a “$18 meal.”  I do enjoy alone time, work is hectic and it gives me time to reflect on life.  So I savored my food and went to my room for the night.

     

                           

                       

My standard preparation applied:

I ordered a new set of 28mm Continental GatorSkins.  The majority of those that race do so on actual road bikes with 25mm tires.  I don’t have a traditional road bike and brought my Giant Revolt.  It always looks odd with “skinny” tires since the roadies don’t consider 28mm skinny and my Revolt will take up to a 50mm tire (2 inches in American).  I am pleased with my choice since, strangely the pavement was rougher than the dirt/packed sand of the Tunica Hills.

Nutrition: a warning to all those who try this for the first time.  There are SAG stops with great food, however, I didn’t bring nearly enough energy/quick snacks.  I was saved by my riding companions who adopted me and took care of me.  The SAGs leap frog and if you are slow you will miss them.   You will only have maybe 2-3 gas stations.  This is remote.  I drank a bunch of water the day before (I am getting better).

Ride as much as possible:  As usual it is never enough.  Family, work, and work always get in the way.  I think the most mileage I got in on any one ride was about 30 miles.  Plus there are no long climbs where I live.  

Exploring the Kisatchie National Forest on a beautiful day.

It isn't clear but there is a road to the right of my bike.  It ends in a T-intersection at the green trees.

My job has very long hours and I don't always get the time that I would like dedicate to riding. As stated before, I bought a new bike that I thought would be fitting for my new environment.  So far I am pleased with my decision to buy a Giant Revolt.  The other day it was a nice 70 degrees and I had to get out.  I was exhausted from a crazy trip to New Orleans the day before that involved getting home at 2 a.m.  As I said, it was gorgeous so I forced myself out of the recliner and went for a ride. 

I decided that rather than go for mileage I would explore a few roads that I ride past.  There are many short side roads in the Kisatchie National Forest, typically they are not long.  This meant that I would be turning around frequently, however, it is nice to see different scenery.  The first road (above) was nice, starting out as a nice wide hard packed sandy road and ended in a leaf covered section with T intersection.  I chose to go to the right and found that that the jeep track was very loose and it felt as though I had a flat rear tire.  It felt sluggish on most of this stretch and  I eventually hit a dead end.

I turned around and headed back and took the other spur and found the same kind of road conditions. Again, I ran into a water hazard.  I have found that if you go down hill, you quickly run into water.

This water was surprisingly clear and reflected the trees above like a mirror.

The road looked good on the other side but I didn't want to cross it, get all wet just to find it only goes another hundred feet or so.  I will do a map check later.  So I turned around again and headed back.  This time I returned to the main road in search of a new route.

I quickly found this and followed it quite a ways.  A bulldozer had been down it and it looks like someone was building up humps to prevent road washout during rain.  The tracks created a nice rumble strip. 

This stretch of road was a mix of packed and soft sand, possibly the best cyclocross route around.  

The mounds of dirt are clearly there to keep the road from washing out in heavy rain.  My tires cut in deep on several of them.  

I quickly ran into another wet area.  I definitely was not going to cross this muddy quagmire.

Mud clearance!

As stated before I bought a Giant Revolt because it is made to be a go most places bike.  I have proven it can do basic single track with the Even Bigger Big Ring Challenge (it was on the flier).  The bike boasts the ability to run up to a 2 inch wide (50mm) tire.  No other gravel/cyclocross bike that I know of boasts that.  While I don't really see myself riding a 2 wide tire, this set up allows for amazing mud clearance.  Something most bikes wouldn't have with a 40mm wide tire.  

A little sand on the tires.

The road conditions in this area range from a red dirt road with clay to white sand.  I have come to love the hard packed sand, which is often smoother than the asphalt in the area.  

Anther interesting fact is that this area is home to the Red Cockaded Woodpecker.  The trees with white bands are home to families of woodpeckers.  Some interesting facts:  

1.  They love long-leaf pine forests
2.  They nest in only live pine trees
3.  They "bleed" the tree around the hole they nest in to prevent tree climbing snakes from entering their AO.
4.  They are endangered
5.  They along with the Desert Tortoise are the only known force capable of stopping the U.S. Army.  Fact!!!  Not trying to give hints to anyone but if you want to stop a tank battalion, here you go.

Another beautiful day in Louisiana in February.

The GHORBA Even Bigger Big Ring Challenge Part II: Run whatcha brung and own the stupid.

Before I begin I would like to point out that I don't race.  You may find yourself asking "but you raced?"  That is true, I did, however had either the Wild Azalea Trail Challenge or Even Bigger Big Ring Challenge required a race license and sanctioning I would not have done them.  I just don't see the point in paying some organization to not win or earn anything seems ridiculous.  That said, I don't mind paying when the money is for a reasonably good cause.  In this case I thought it was a little overpriced considering there wasn't a shirt or even a complimentary gel or granola bar.  But I will get to that later.  The bottom line is that the money is for future advocacy and trail maintenance....the world is better.

The race started well, the first 1.5 miles were on a hardball road and it gave people time to get ahead if they wanted and there wasn't a big funnel at the trail head.  Now for the hiccup.  As stated before I probably brought the wrong bike (by probably I mean that I did).  But you know what sometimes you have to man up and run what you brung (a bad attempt to rhyme).  They echeloned the start by event.  Of course I signed up for the 3 mile 50 lap ordeal so this started first.  This would prove to be a mistake.  I should have just started in the back because my poor narrow drop bars and 40mm tires didn't give me the speed I needed on the trail.  As soon as I hit the trail I knew I was in trouble.  There were roots everywhere.  While there were no rocks and very little elevation change, the roots were devastating.  Ironically everything the guy told me the night before was mostly wrong, such as the trail being sandy and loose after a group passed through.  It wasn't bad at all.

It didn't take long for the second group to catch up with me.  "bike back" and "passing" were constant.  I clearly should have started in the back.  Eventually they thinned out and I got it, this is a race but a few were a bit rude.  I know that I looked crazy, but take it up with the race director for putting out a flier that said do all three on a CX bike.  The first lap seemed the longest as I had to move to the right and let people pass but I found a couple of people who were new to mountain biking and I followed them.  I eventually passed a couple so good on me.

The second lap was a little better, it was not until the last mile of the second lap that I was passed by the lead riders.  I found myself with a nice lady that wanted only to finish the two laps she signed up for.  She kept telling me to pass her but I declined because the moment we hit a rough patch she would pass me.  As I rounded the second lap, I stopped and grabbed a few snacks out of my car and downed a couple of Exedrin with caffeine and downed a snack and headed out for the third lap.

It was on the beginning of the third lap that I began to feel cramping.  The only difference was that the cramping was not in my legs but my triceps and hands.  Having ridden 36 miles in drop bars clinging to the hoods was taking it's toll.  It was then that I began to regret my decision.  But what choice did I have.....only one and that was to finish.  It was immediately clear that I was last.  but what do you expect from a guy that is riding a cyclocross style bike with drops and 40mm tires on a root filled single track.

I just kept cranking.  I shouted the occasional obscenity (if a guy who is on a cyclocross bike swears in the woods is there anyone around to hear him?  No!).  I just kept cranking away, root after root.  As I came in the final stretch I was glad to see that there were a couple of people hanging around and they were still running the timer.  I crossed the finish line and the lady asked me "did you see the two guys on the trail?'  "You mean I wasn't last?" was my response.  It turns out that a couple of guys (old guys) crossed for their third lap before me but stopped and took a break.  It was at that point that the guy writing down time looked at my bike and said "you did 50 miles on that?"  He looked both shocked and disgusted.  I get that look a lot.  I said "it was on the flier and I paid a lot of money!"

I had rigor mortis of the hands after this.

So there I was.  I had to break down camp and drive the 2.5 to 3 hours home, with cramping triceps and fingers that had some sort of drop bar and hood induced rigor mortis.  I went back to the tent and decided to take a quick nap.  Again, someone asked what I had done.  The common response was "50 miles on that?"  Of course when I went to my tent the vulgar and offensive people were there so I bailed on the nap and packed up and left.  Again, Infantry and combat were not as offensive as these people were.

Over the next two days I developed pain in my triceps and between my shoulder blades near the spine.  Clearly I discovered stabilizing muscles I didn't know existed.  I was pleased to have completed the race, no matter how much pain.  Would I go back next year?  That is debatable.

Again, not to sound like a curmudgeon (which I am) the group camping was a turn off for me.  I understand when you are with a group of friends you can act crazy, rude, bigoted and whip out a joint.  But the moment a newcomer has arrived I would recommend that you tone it down a touch.  Again, you are representing an organization that wants to extract upwards of $65 for entrance, $9 to drive into the recreation area, $18 to camp, and then I spent $100 on gas.  Could I recommend this to my Soldiers, absolutely not.  Would I bring co-workers and other Soldiers to the event, I couldn't because if they experienced what I did and I recommended it, they would think that I condone that behavior.  This would set a bad example.   And finally, at least throw in a complimentary gel or sticker.  Again, some could say the money goes to a good cause but a little overhead could go to swag that serves as an advertisement.  Just saying.  Sorry there are not many pictures, the nice lady taking pictures wants $20 for a digital copy.  I really miss Lanterne Rouge and his free photos.  He does it for the love.

Ok, what is next.  I am thinking the Rouge Roubaix