Allegheny Mountains Loop Extreme

Starting off in the middle of Virginia Tech campus in Blacksburg, VA, the AML X is one beast of a ride. Traveling over one huge ridgeline after another, the route more or less works its way up the VA/WV border until it ends at the Maryland border, then turning around, riders must yoyo back down the same route they just came making for one physically and mentally challenging route. Throw on top of that the ever present chance of crazy fall weather and you have a bikepacking route that is on par with any of the other classic bikepacking routes around the country. The scenery and views on the AML X, especially in the fall when the leaves are changing, are simply unbelievable! This is a short synopsis of my ride on the AML X this fall.

Day 1

With the threat of Tropical Storm Nate coming in that weekend, everyone was a bit apprehensive as to what might happen when it arrived. The beginning of the ride started at the War Memorial on Virginia Tech campus so a few minutes before 6 in the morning, everyone started to arrive. Talk was light as everyone was anxious to get riding. Finally, at a few minutes after six, the ride began.

The pace started off easy for the first few miles in the cool, brisk temps. I rolled for a few minutes with Ed Bridge having a nice conversation. Later I would learn what an amazing guy he is. The terrain for the first twenty or so miles was fairly mellow. After a while, the pace started picking up with the guys on gravel bikes taking up the lead. Being on a singlespeed, I just had to sit back and watch them go hoping I could pull them back when I got to the mountains. Somewhere along the way, I passed Kevin Greten on the side of the road with some sort of mechanical. I asked if he was good, he said yes, so I continued on.

Right after the start of the first climb, Mountain Lake, I caught Ed and then Robert Knapp. I was feeling good so I stood into it and before I knew it, I was at the top. I now knew I was in the lead but was aware it probably wouldn't last long since there was a huge, long, flat stretch of road into Paint Bank and my singlespeed was no match for those gravel bikes in the flats. After bombing the huge downhill off Mountain Lake, I started to work on the stretch to Paint Bank. About halfway through it, I looked back, and sure enough, here comes Robert barreling towards me like a runaway train. He blew by me and before I knew it, he was disappearing into the distance. I continued my trudge to Paint Bank for a resupply of food and water. Robert was just leaving when I rolled up so I grabbed what I needed as quickly as I could and took off in pursuit.

The next few miles to the next major climb, Peters Mountain, were of the rolling paved variety. I was getting so immersed in my surroundings that I almost missed my turn onto the gravel road up to Peters Mountain. This road was an amazing stretch of gravel as it rolled up to the base of Peters with nice mellow sustained climbing followed by beautiful, flowing downhill. Somewhere along this section, I caught back up to Robert, passed him, and continued on. I came to a sharp left turn and my beautiful dream of gravel quickly turned into a straight up, steep reality check of what happens when you let your guard down. This is one of those climbs that starts making you question your gear selection. Shortly though, I was at the top and ready for my downhill reward. After an exciting downhill I reached the town of Callaghan for my next and final resupply till I got to Davis, WV. Chris Tompkins, route creator and promoter, was there taking some pictures and shooting a little video.

I grabbed all the supplies I would need for an all night run and continued on with the next segment. After riding a few miles of pavement, the route went back up onto the ridges of Allegheny Mountain. In my opinion, this is where the ride really begins with long sustained climbs, huge, bomber downhills, and little to no water as I would find out. After climbing up and down Allegheny several times, the route finally pops out in the small town of Bartow, WV. During the day, there is a resupply called Trent's General store but by the time I got there, everything was shut down.

My plan had been to get to Davis before stopping, but I had run out of water for quite a few miles on Allegheny and when I get dehydrated, my stomach eventually goes south. After leaving Bartow, I started making my way up Middle Mountain and that's when my stomach decided it had had enough. After emptying the contents of my stomach several times, I finally struggled to the top of the mountain, found a flat spot, and called it as day at 175 miles in.

Day 2

I woke up several times that night shivering wanting to get going but my stomach just wasn't having it. Finally after about 6 hours, I was finally starting to feel some relief. After a while, my nausea turned into hunger and I was feeling like a new man. Unfortunately, I thought for sure that since I had stopped so long, I had been passed. I had no way of knowing that both Robert and Kevin had dropped out. For the whole rest of the way to Maryland I was chasing nobody but thought I was chasing somebody. Getting to the alternate route to the Dry Fork river crossing, I decided to go for the river crossing since it was shorter and had been extremely dry and then take the main route on the way back. The river crossing was a little crazy not because the water was deep but because the rocks were like slimy bowling balls. After riding 200+ miles, walking on these river rocks was anything but easy. After successfully crossing the river, I continued through some of the most beautiful places in the U.S. making the time absolutely fly by. When I got to Davis, I was running on fumes. I stopped at the gas station, grabbed two pizzas and continued on to the Maryland border and the turn around to come back the way I come from.

Back through Davis, grabbing two more pizzas and supplies for the long haul I continued on. The weather was so perfect, I wondered briefly where the tropical storm was. A ways past the Dry Fork, it was starting to get dark. Up ahead I saw what look like a bike light. Sure enough it was Ed Bridge. We talked for a couple minutes. He was ready for the haul to Davis. I advised him to take the main route across the Dry Fork since doing the river crossing at night might be a little crazy. Unfortunately, I would later find out that Ed would have a crash on the way down to the Dry Fork because his brakes failed. Thankfully he was okay.

I continued on across Middle Mountain and crossed paths with Honcho at almost the exact spot I had spent the night before. He was setting up the tent getting ready to camp for the night and said he was having a great but tough ride. After a couple minutes talking, I continued on my way. I arrived at Bartow again at night after hours so I continued on to the climb up Allegheny Mountain. It had started raining on and off and I was starting to lose my motivation to continue on. I put on my rain gear and found a nice pile of leaves and passed out. I woke up a couple hours later shivering with rain water running down my rain jacket and pants completely soaking me. I wanted to get up but just couldn't make myself get up and start riding in the pouring down rain. I guess Nate had arrived.

Day 3

Tropical Storm Nate

After giving myself a serious pep talk, I finally got myself going. I still had 150 miles to go so it was going to be a long, wet, muddy day. It was so dark, windy, and foggy, I could barely see the road I was riding on. Several trees had been blown down over the road up Allegheny, so I knew it was starting to get serious. I finally topped out, got onto highway 250, slowly made my way down the mountain, turned onto county 600 and was instantly greeting by a nice helping of peanut butter mud. This would be the theme for the rest of the day. Even though the rain let up after several hours, the roads were a nightmare. I pretty much had to walk up every hill on Allegheny because the roads were so soft. Eventually, I got off Allegheny and back onto pavement where I could cover some miles. Got to Callaghan, stocked up, called Chris and told him I was going to try and finish that day, and took off for Peters mountain. Up and over Peters, mostly hiking, and on into Paint Bank. I ate a whole block of cheese and continued on the never ending valley ride to Mountain Lake climb. The road conditions on Mountain Lake were considerably better than roads earlier in the day so I was able to make the climb without walking. Unfortunately, Tropical Storm Nate decided to unleash his full fury right as I crested. I was so looking forward to the bomber descent off the mountain. Because of the storm, I was reduced to 10 mph and barely being able to see the road. The final miles into Blacksburg were some of the longest, wettest, windiest miles I have ever ridden. At times, it was raining so hard I thought I was going to exhume too much water and drown. At one point right outside of town, the visibility was so bad, I ran right off the road into a ditch full of water and flipped over the bars right into the water.

After all the excitement, I finally made it back to the War Memorial and the finish soaked and frozen. Back at the parking garage, as I was drying off and reflecting on the experience I had just been a part of, none other than Ed Bridge showed up with a big fat hot burrito. He had been worried about me out in the storm and had come to where we had parked at the garage to make sure I finished safe and sound. Truly awesome and heart-felt! Thanks Ed, you are what the bikepacking community is all about.

The Florida Divide - The Panhandle Version

The Florida Divide is a monster of a route! It originally started off as an 800 mile route starting in Fargo, GA and finishing in Flamingo, FL. Last year, in the inaugural event, a handful of people raced this route including my wife, Kim Murrell, being the only female to finish in one, continuous ride with one of the fastest times, male or female, at around six and a half days. 

This year Karlos Bernhart, route creator, realized there was a whole section of Florida not being utilized in the panhandle, so he added an additional 670 miles to the original route. This version of the route starts at the Open Pond campground in Conecuh National Forest in south Alabama, travels through the panhandle of Florida, connects to the original route, and then has an alternate ending in Key West, FL totaling around 1500 miles. Being a glutton for punishment,  I decided to give it a shot knowing I'd be dealing with swamps, endless sand roads, beautiful single track, not so beautiful single track, nonexistent single track, alligators, snakes, wide open glades, very sketchy highways, trying to keep enough calories coming in, and of course, the unrelenting wind and sun. 

This kind of racing involves being totally self-supported, carrying everything you need on your bike. No outside assistance, food caches, chase vehicles, or people meeting you on-route to give you food and water. All food and supplies must be purchased on route from public establishments that are available to all riders. This makes it very interesting trying to figure out when and where to resupply. Food and water weigh a lot so the trick is to figure out just how much you will need to make it to the next resupply spot. Prior route studying is oh so very important! And to make things even more interesting, the route is not marked. You only have a GPS track to follow. 

The bike I decided to ride is a 2016 Trek Superfly single speed from Scott's Bikes in Cleveland, TN. The guys at the shop are amazing and really take care of everything I need! I had originally decided to ride a 34 x 18 gear ratio but at the last minute decided to go with a 34 x 19 ratio. This was probably the second best decision I made on this trip due to the absolute raw nature of the route. Only in the last couple hundred miles when it became mostly flat road and levy riding did I wish I had a bigger gear.  

As far as the gear I carried, I tried to keep it to a minimum. The less weight, the more of a fun riding bike and the more distance you can ride in a day. If it wasn't an absolute necessity, it stayed home. No tent, sleeping bag, stove, etc. I did splurge and brought an air mattress. I also brought extra shorts and socks knowing I'd be hiking through lots of nasty swamps. On the handlebars I carried my mattress, bivy, and big, fat burritos when I could get a hold of them. In the gas tank bag, I carried chamois cream, personal hygiene wipes, sunscreen, and other odds and ends. In the under the top tube bag, I carried the water filter, lights, batteries for lights and GPS, and phone and cash. In the seat bag, I carried my nano puff jacket, rain jacket, extra clothing, and leg and arm warmers. In the electronics department, I carried two GPS units, one as my primary and one for backup. This was the most important decision I made on this trip. It was strongly suggested by my wife Kim, a seasoned and very experienced bikepacker, that I take a backup GPS just in case the 'worst case scenario happened', which it did 35 miles in.

All the food I carried, including Fritos, peanut M&M's, Oreo's, chicken jerky, string cheese, went in my back jersey pockets. I carried just enough food to get me to my next resupply. There were a couple times that I underestimated the time to my next stop so I was literally down to two M&M's for 20 miles!

This is a brief summary of how my ride on the Florida Divide went and some of the crazy things that happened that could only happen on a ride like this.

Day 1....
The day before my departure, Kim and I drove down to south Alabama to Open Pond campground to where the route started. It is a beautiful campground in the middle of Conecuh National Forest that had very few campers. So we picked a campsite next to the lake and I got my bike and gear ready.

The next morning, we woke up to a very brisk 32 degrees making me wonder if my decision to forgo a sleeping  bag was a wise decision. It was a thought that quickly past as I was getting very excited to start the route.

The route started with some quick, flowy trail before jumping onto miles of beautiful forest road to the Florida border and the start of the Florida trail.

The rest of the route would more or less be following the Florida Trail which at times was really awesome and other times, absolutely brutal.

So I continued on into Florida finding beautiful, remote trail through pine forest and along the Blackwater river. Occasionally I would have to get off and walk, but for the most part, everything was very rideable.

Everything was going great until the batteries in my GPS decided to die. I was trying to use up some partially drained batteries from a previous trip so, 35 miles in, they died. No big deal, I'll just put some new batteries in and we'll be on our way. Unfortunately, when I fired the GPS back up, all the track files were completely gone! In all my trips before, this has never happened!  Holy crap!! Thanks to Kim and her wisdom and me listening to her for once, I brought the backup GPS. It was the first time I'd ever had my tracks erase on me and the first time I'd ever brought a backup. I guess there's always a first time for everything.

After I got everything straightened out, the rest of the Blackwater segment went great. I restocked in Crestview, rested a couple minutes, then headed into Eglin Air Force Base. After fighting, struggling, and walking through miles of deep sand roads, I decided to call it quits for the day. Day one mileage: 125 miles.

Day 2....
After freezing all night, day two started off with finishing my trip through Eglin AFB on marginally rideable sand roads. Eglin AFB is an interesting place. It is marked off in quadrants and at any given time, some of those quadrants can be closed off for military exercises. You have to get online and look at a map to see what's going to be closed for that day and what's open but that doesn't guarantee anything. Anyway, I was cruising along on one of my sand hikes and came across a closed section that the route goes right through. Errr! I had just hiked/somewhat rode some deep sand and gullies for a couple miles and wasn't about to backtrack. It was crazy that I would rather take my chances with being sniped, bombed, IED'd, or just plain kidnapped for secret government experiments than to backtrack through that deep, obnoxious sand. Fortunately, nothing exciting happened through no-man's land accept for seeing some nice bear tracks.

After finally exiting Eglin AFB, I ventured into the Lafayette creek segment. This section was my second biggest nightmare of the route. It started off innocently enough, winding through some gentle hills and along a nice creek with some sweet bench cut trail. Then it dropped into Lafayette creek and the nightmare began. I was wading through mud and quick sand, over debris piles, through more swamp nastiness, and on and on. This continued for four miles and by the time I was out of there, I was completely toast. This is what backcountry Florida bikepacking is all about. There are beautiful sand trails winding through endless pine forest, and then there's the swamps with no discernible trail except for an occasional trail blaze on a tree. Sometimes it can be miles of wading through alligator and snake infested mud and water.

I finally made through Lafayette, rode a fun little mtn bike specific trail called Pine Log, rode some highway, and then entered one of the best segments of the whole route called Econfina Creek. A truly beautiful area starting off with an amazing ride through pine forest which eventually transitioned into an amazing ride along Econfina creek. By the time I got out of Econfina, it was well past dark. I decided to knock out another section of highway before stopping just before Blownstown so I could re-stock in the morning.

By the time I stopped, it was in the 30's and looking to be another cold night. I remembered watching an episode of Dual Survival where the guys buried themselves in a pile of leaves to stay warm,  so I decided to give it a try. It's amazing how good an insulator a pile of pine straw is! I never really was cold again the rest of the trip. It turns out that all my reality TV watching wasn't a complete waste of time!

Day 3....
After refueling in Blownstown at my favorite breakfast spot,

I entered the Appalachacola National Forest. The theme for the day was endless sand roads and a stop at Tallahassee's bikepacking guru Matthew Bull and his wife Michelle's house for a recharge.

.....and ouch!!!

Ouch....

Sand roads that stretch for as far as the eye can see. Hardpacked sand, damp sticky sand, and the dreaded deep sugar sand that caused the occasional hike a bike.


Eventually, the sand would end and give way to a nice, mellow ride through Tallahassee to the Bull's house who were unbelievably gracious hosts! The next morning after a good night's sleep, clean clothes, and a great breakfast, I was ready to take on the amazing trails that Tallahassee has to offer!

Day 4....
Day four started with some awesome urban singletrack riding through Tom Brown park. Flowy trail was the name of the game while getting to see some amazingly old Live Oak trees.

From Tom Brown, I made my way to the even more amazing Munson trail, a purpose built mtn bike trail with berms and rollers. This was by far the funnest day of the trip!

The day ended with a brief ride along the Gulf coast near St. Marks and making it to the beginning of the Aucilla river.

Day 5....
What I can remember about day five was that it was beautiful but very brutal. The start of the day was a very dense and twisty ride along the Aucilla river. The Aucilla is very unique in the fact that it disappears and reemerges from underground. Eventually, it turns into a normal looking river until you come around a curve and, low and behold, there is a legitimate class 3 rapid!

This is not a normal Florida thing but very awesome!

After exiting Aucilla,  there was some nice sand roads, a resupply at a truck stop, and then to the very tough Suwannee river trail. There were some nice sections with beautiful trail and nice white sand beaches but also a lot of climbing over trees and bushwhacking.

I eventually made it to White Springs at about 2 am and crashed completely destroyed. One of the hardest days on route.

Day 6....
Leaving White Springs, I finished off the Suwannee segment excited to finally finish up the panhandle stretch. For some reason, I thought the rest of the route to the junction with the original route would be nice, mellow road riding. I had a nice little swampy surprise waiting for me, though, just to keep things from getting to easy. In the middle of all that swampy goodness, I just about stepped on a Cottonmouth viper just waiting to bight an unsuspecting hiker! Thankfully, I saw him at the last second, took evasive maneuvers, and we both went on our merry ways.

I did make it out of the swamp unscathed and finished off the panhandle segment in 5 days 8 hrs. The celebration was short-lived, though, as I still had 800 more miles to go.

After a lot of road riding,  I made it to the San Felasco trails just north of Gainesville.  Unfortunately,  I had to ride it at night and wasn't really able to enjoy the beauty of the trail like you can in the daylight.

My plan was to get through San Felasco and then make it through the rest of the Gainesville trails but a hellacious thunderstorm convinced me to grab a hotel room and a large pizza for the night.

Day 7....
After weathering the storm in Gainesville and a stop at Autozone to borrow a socket wrench to adjust my chain tension, I headed off towards Rodman dam and one of the better sections of the Florida trail.  A cold front had come through after the previous nights storm so the weather was perfect and I had a nice tailwind as I headed south. Miles and miles of beautiful trail and before I knew it, the day ended in the Paisley trails,  I had rolled 140 miles.

Unfortunately, because of the cold front that had come through,  it had gotten back down into the low 30's that night. Instead of trying to stay warm with pine straw, I decided to build a fire.

I built a nice fire pit, built the fire, and fell asleep nice and warm. Sometime during the night I had a nightmare I'd caught the woods on fire. Waking up, I quickly realized that I was on fire! An ember had jumped out of the fire and landed on my bivy and, POOF!!! It burnt a huge hole through my bivy, rain jacket, and air mattress. Not only now did I have an air-conditioned bivy and rain jacket, I had no mattress. I was so mad at my stupid mistake, I packed up and just started riding on two hours sleep.  Nothing else I could do but be thankful that I was still intact.

Day 8....
After catching myself on fire,  I rode a lot of miles I just can't remember through Lake Mary and Oveido. I remember Little Econ being way drier and much more rideable than last year. The wetlands in Orlando wetlands was basically the drylands in contrast to what last year was like. Tosohatchee was somewhat of a pain in the rear end with it's areas of swamp and marginal trail.

And then there was Bull creek, my biggest nightmare of the trip. Swamps, nearly non-existent trail, palm fronds that kept trying to blow out my spokes, and lots of alligators, all at night!  I kept having this joke about Florida trail building running through my head about how they build trails by just painting blazes on trees and hoping a trail will magically appear. After getting lost several times trying to find the trail, I finally found a nice campsite and called it quits for day.

Contemplating life at my Bull creek campsite

Day  9....
I finally finished Bull creek with some swamp hiking and no food. I made it through beautiful Three Lakes, rode some terrifying highway full of big trucks to Yeehaw Junction for a wonderful resupply.. Due to my lack of food for a lot miles, I was a bit light-headed and wobbly and had some close calls with traffic. From here on out, the riding would be wide open highways and levies. This is the area where the wind will make or break you. Completely frustrated with the traffic and wind, I limped into the town of Okeechobee and got a room, 40 miles short of my goal of getting to Clewiston.  This decision would eventually cause me to not be able to make my goal of finishing in under eleven days.

Day 10....
Day ten would be my biggest mileage day of the ride at 190 miles. My biggest hurdle was being totally exposed to the sun and 25 mph sustained headwinds.  One of the highlights was going into Big Cypress after dark and hearing the nonstop bellowing from the hundreds of alligators and seeing all their beady little red eyes. It was more than enough motivation to keep the wheels rolling! Eventually, I made it to Monument campground completely spent. I was so thankful I had brought a mosquito head net because the little buggers were out in full force. No cold nights down here in south Florida!

Day 11....
More highway and levy riding with super strong headwinds for day eleven. The interesting part of the day was seeing the memorial for the Valujet crash a few years ago. Very sobering and very sad.

The highlight was making it into the Keys with only 80 miles to go!

Last day!
The ride down to Key West was not exactly what I expected.  Unfortunately, it happened to be spring break and the traffic was, after being in the woods alone for days, quite overwhelming.  The nonstop being buzzed by traffic, just about made me quit fifty miles from the end. I had to keep stopping and giving myself pep talks to keep going. When I did finally make it to Key West, it was nonstop being bombarded by thousands of little scooters and people being crazy. It was such let down. No elation or happiness for having just ridden 1500 miles. I just wanted more than anything to get out of there. Key West is not bikepacking to me. I bikepack for the solitude and peaceful quiet, not to be thrust into the middle of Disney world. I was supposed to take a selfie at the finish buoy but because of the huge, obnoxious crowd of spring breakers waiting to get their picture taken by the buoy, I just took a drive-by photo and like that, I was out of there in my rental car on the way home wondering what had just happened. In retrospect, I would have finished my ride at the original finish in Flamingo. It's such a beautiful, quiet, perfect place to end an epic route like the Florida Divide in contrast to the, in your face, craziness of Key West.

In the end, I rode 1510 miles in 11 days, 6 hrs, and 15 mins. The route was brutal, raw, exhilarating, intense, and after having a couple weeks to digest it, an amazing, awesome experience!

People often ask me if I have fun riding these long routes. It's a different kind of fun than what most people are accustomed to. There are so many highs and lows and all these highs and lows, in the end, combine to make an incredible life experience! It only takes a few days after the trip is over to forgot most of the negative stuff and what you have left is the amazing feeling of having accomplished something huge and amazing, and that's why I continue to do this amazing sport!

2012 Trans North Georgia

I went into this years TNGA with high expectations of riding a solid ride. My intent was to beat Eddie O'dea's record of 2 days 34 minutes. It was going to be a huge challenge with not much time to sleep, pretty much ride 48 hrs or less straight through. There also was a deeper field than ever before. Shey Lidner, a legendary endurance racer, was going to be there. Brad Kee and Matt  Fusco, who have successfully completed races like the Tour Divide and AZT 750 among others, were going to be there. Wayne Goins, who gets the hardcore award for riding 16 hrs straight in a tropical storm in last years TNGA before finally succumbing to hypothermia, would be in attendance. Ardie Olsen, who finished 2nd in the Tour divide one year, would be there. Ruth Cunningham was there representing the female side hoping to beat the previous women's record.  Plus, there would be 25 or so other riders who could potentially put up strong finishes. I felt fairly confident in my physical conditioning, but in these ultra-long races, there are so many variables and things that could go wrong. I knew it was going to be one of the toughest events I have ever participated in. 

My plan was to ride light with the absolute bare minimum gear. Anything that seemed even remotely a luxury stayed at home. It was going to be somewhat cool because of a cold front that had gone through a couple days earlier, so I packed some arm warmers and a wind breaker for a little warmth. These minimal layers would mean I would be somewhat cold at times but I had to travel as light as possible especially since I knew Shey, Brad, and Matt would be traveling in the same manner. I would travel light on food and water, only carrying enough to get me to the next resupply point. It's a somewhat risky way to travel but it could also pay off. I would just have to be willing to be a little uncomfortable. I had my game plan, now I was ready to ride. Unfortunately, my camera got fried in Colorado, so I wasn't able to take any photos of my ride.

It was Saturday morning and the air was crisp. Perfect riding weather! All the participants were milling around trying to distract themselves from pre-race jitters. Dave Muse was walking around answering Spot questions and last minutes questions about the route. He really has put a huge amount of effort into putting together this awsome, monster of a route. After a short pre-ride meeting, we were off into the unknown.

The pace from the start was nice and easy. I love these events and one reason is the starts. You're getting ready to ride 330 miles so might as well enjoy the start and not blow yourself up in the first half mile. It gives you a chance to talk to the other riders and the scope out everybody's set-ups. 

The first hundred miles or so of this route before Helen hits you with back to back to back big climbs. After Helen, there are a couple more big climbs on pavement before it finally somewhat flattens out. Then there is a brute of a climb called Stanley Gap that destroyed me last year. Once again, it flattens out somewhat for around 20 miles before entering some of the highest mountains on the route called the Cohuttas. Once through the Cohuttas, it becomes dead pan flat over to Dalton, the last easy resupply before the end. The last section I think is the crux of the whole route. Though the mountains are a lot smaller than the ones previously ridden, they are a lot steeper and more technical with very little water. 

Shey, Trey Woodall, John Hightower, and I made to Rabun Gap fairly quickly. John and Trey decided to go into RG to grab a bite, so Shey and I continued on after Wayne who was somewhere up ahead. We finally caught Wayne on Patterson Gap and then rode together until somewhere after the Tallulah river. After the Tallulah, we kind of separated do to different paces with Shey going off the front.

After Dick's Creek Gap, the route dove off the side of the highway and down a gravelly downhill. In years past, the route continued on this little gravel road down to another highway, turned right and headed over past Moccasin state park(a nice resupply), then up Wildcat road to Addis Gap. This year, the route had to make a detour do to a land slide on Wildcat road. The detour involved a massive hike-a-bike then a traverse over to the upper part of Wildcat road then on up to Addis Gap. Let me tell you something, I've done both routes, and although shorter, this new detour really upped the difficulty of the route big time. No nice and easy cruise up Wildcat, no resupply at Moccasin, just one big hike and I loved it. Kind of gives you a sense of being out there just a little more.

The sky was looking dark as I made it over Addis Gap. Then it started to sprinkle and suddenly, CRASH! A huge bolt of lightning hit not to far away. I had just come back from Colorado a few weeks prior and had some close and personal lightning experiences out there. Lightning terrifies me because of its unpredictability. The only predictable thing about right now was that I was hauling butt downhill, fast! Then the heavens opened up and I was riding in rivers down the mountain. By the time I was almost to the bottom, it stopped raining. 

The next climb was Trey mountain. It's one of the longest sustained climbs on the route. About 10 minutes into the climb, it started dumping again and didn't stop for the next hour until I was almost to the top. Over the top, the route goes downhill on a super fun, rutted out, rocky jeep road before getting to Hickory Nut trail. Hickory is a yard sale waiting to happen! First off, it's hard to locate because it's really overgrown. Once locating the trail, it's super easy to crash due to the suitcase size boulders hiding under the thick overgrowth. The overgrowth consist of typical southern poison ivy, stinging nettles, an assortment of skin ripping briers, and huge spider webs. Hey, wait a minute, why am I hitting all these spider webs, I thought Shey was ahead of me. Close to the bottom of Hickory, Shey caught me when I was surveying some damage caused by a boulder to my down tube. Shey had stopped somewhere before Trey to resupply.

Rolling into Robertstown, I suddenly felt light headed and starving. Reluctently, I had to let Shey go and headed into Helen to grab a sandwich at subway. After reviving myself, I gave chase knowing Shey was probably 20 miles down the road by now. Up and over Hogpen, then up Wolfpen to Duncan Ridge road. To my surprise, Shey was bivied at the beginning of Duncan. I was feeling great so I continued on into the night and down one of the funnest descents of the entire route. 

Riding on some gravel road off the fish hatchery road, I suddenly got the all too familiar urge to puke. Funny things can happen to the stomach on these ultra rides and sometimes it can bring you to your knees. I knew I needed to take a break before it past the point of no return, so I found a quiet place in the woods and laid down. Before long, I was freezing cold. Due to nice little afternoon thunder dumper, I was still a little wet and since I was travelling light, I had no extra clothes. As I lay there shivering, trying to get my stomach to slow down, Wayne goes riding by. Then a few minutes later Shey goes ripping by in hot pursuit. About an hour later, Matt, Brad, and Robert Peerson, go rolling. Ok, time to get up, too many people have passed me by. It probably took me a half hour to warm up and it was so foggy I could barely see my front wheel.

I caught Brad and Matt just before Shallowford bridge and we stopped at the store across the road to refill water. After talking to them for a couple minutes, I took off on my own down Aska road to Green Mountain trail.

Green Mountain and Stanley Gap trails are the second hardest section of the route for me. Last year it took me three hours to get to the top of Stanley and I must have puked ten times on the way up. So I was a little nervous about it this year. I got in the mindset I would just play it safe and walk most of it. On the way up, I passed Robert in his bivy in the middle of the trail. By the time I got to the top, the sun was coming up making the descent down to Stanley Gap road much easier. 

Flying down SG road, I passed the game check station and saw Shey passed out on the front porch. Now I only had Wayne to catch. However, I wasn't seeing any tracks in front of me so I was wasn't completely certain he was still in front of me. The next few miles up Cashes Valley were pleasant paved road riding with the exception of Bushy Head climb. Short but brutally steep and loose. By this point I was absolutely starving. I stopped at Jacks River Outfitter store but they were closed. One of the ladies that works there saw me sitting there so she pulled and told me the store would be open at 9. It was 8:30, so I had half an hour. Around 8:45, Shey came rolling in and then around 9, Matt and Brad stopped in. Not planning on stopping again until Dalton, we loaded up.

Shey and I took off and had a great time riding together through the Cohuttas. We saw quite a few people we knew out riding around and probably killed an hour talking to everybody. They were all very interested in how the race was going and to offer encouragement  which was greatly appreciated. After climbing mountain after mountain and riding some awsome sections of the Pinhoti trail, we finally made it out to the town of Ramhurst and it was like somebody stuck a flamethower to our backs. The weather went from mild and pleasant in the mountains, to downright suffocating in the valley. We stopped at a gas station to grab water, chocolate milk, and other snacks for the ride over to Dalton. Other than the heat, the ride over to Dalton was very relaxing. Very little traffic and not much head wind which can sometimes be an issue on that stretch.

All the way across to Dalton, I had a serious craving for Taco Bell. All I could think about was those chicken burritos. In Dalton, Shey stopped at subway and I made a beeline for TB which was clear across town. Shey thought it was right down the street, so he grabbed a sandwich and took off to meet me. Little did he know he would be dodging maniac drivers while trying to transport his footlong without dropping it. We finally met up again, ate, and felt like a million bucks. We were ahead of schedule and feeling good about it.

The next and last 70 miles of the route are some of the ruffest, rockiest, trail you will ever ride. And after 250+ miles, it can be a real test of will power. The first section of trail on this segment is pure rocks. We made through this section without mishap until we got to a feature known as The Wall. It was now dark and we got a little out of control coming down it. Shey missed a turn and blew into the woods. Somewhere in here he lost his gps and though looking for it, it was never to be seen again, bummer. 

We continued on through the last few sections before the end. They dragged on and on for what  seemed like forever. We were seeing weird things in the woods that weren't really there. I was having trouble with falling asleep on the bike. One moment, I would be super hot, then the next, I was freezing. I saw a tree by the trail that was violently shaking even though there was no wind. I did a double take and it was standing perfectly still. 

We finally made it to highway 20. I looked at my watch and thought we weren't going to be able to break the record. We decided even so to give it all we had left while trying not to get killed by one of the many semi's on the highway. Since we had ridden so much together, kept each other motivated to keep moving, Shey and I decided it was only right that we finish together. We finished thinking we were 15 minutes behind the record. In our sleep deprived minds, we had forgotten that we had started 15 minutes late. It wasn't until we were eating at Waffle House that we realized we had tied the record to the exact minute. Amazing! After 300+ miles with all the variables and situations that happened, we tied the record! I'm still not sure how that happened but it was awsome!

Congratulations to Ruth Cunningham for beating the previous women's record in 3:03:45! Great job to all those that finished this long and difficult route across Georgia! It is an unbelievable route that just keeps throwing everything at you and yet we keep coming back for more.

CTR - Living the High Life

The Beginning....

A couple of years ago, Chris Pesce, a friend of mine from Tennessee, had mentioned that it might be fun to race the Colorado trail.  I was kind of half listening but also thinking about my next xc race. I really had no idea what bikepacking was all about, so the thought of a multi-day bike race just kind of flew over my head. A little ember, however, was placed in the back of my head.

Fast forward to last December. I was driving down the road in my big truck when that little ember suddenly exploded. A few months previous, I had attempted the Trans North Georgia race and flamed out miserably. It was my first futile attempt at bikepack racing and it was a rude awakening. Now, driving down the road, I suddenly remembered my conversation with Chris a couple years before. 

The next few days, I did a ton of research, read a lot of blogs, and was in true awe of the magnitude of this event. It was nearly 500 miles in length, huge amounts of climbing over huge mountains, and crazy weather ranging from boiling hot to raging snow storms. But since I'm crazy and have no common sense, I decided it looked like fun and decided to train for it and then give it a go.

The drive out.....

hot and exposed

Since I'm terrified of flying, I decided to make the long drive from Tennessee. It was probably a good thing however, because it gave me time to think about what I was about to embark on.  I had also heard about some sweet trails out in western Kansas that I wanted to check out. The trails I wanted to ride were west of Salina about 40 or 50 miles. They are called the Wilson lake trail system and they consist of fantastically wide open riding meaning there are no trees anywhere to be found. Being from the east where trees are in abundance, this is a strange and new concept. The trails were a mix of rocky, technical, to screaming fast, buff singletrack. I rode for about 3 hrs until the 110 degree temps finally melted me into the ground. After an hot but amazing ride, I hopped back in the car and drove the final leg of the trip out to Colorado.

who would of thought in Kansas

When I was driving into Denver, I noticed some huge storms hanging out over the mountains where I would be riding in a couple of days. Oh, the butterflies were starting to flutter. I could only imagine what was going on up in those mountains.

The next day, I rode around a little at the trailhead then went back to the hotel and arranged and rearranged and rearranged and rearranged my gear until I was positive I had it the way I wanted it. I was just trying to figure out what was going to be a luxury and what was a necessity. All of the luxury items got tossed. It's hard to not pack that extra pair of socks or the coffee maker but staying light was a priority as long as I wasn't stupid about it. Then I went to bed and didn't sleep a wink. Oh well, that's bike racing I guess.

Day 1....

start of the CTR

After not sleeping a wink, I got up and drove to the trailhead. I was giddy like a 2 year old who had just eaten too much candy. At 6 am, I had my gear on my bike and was off on segment 1. The first few miles were nice, easy pedaling along the Platte river on a well maintained gravel road. Then the route turned off the road onto some of the buffest, smoothest, funnest trail i'd ever ridden. Somehow I knew things were about to change. I made it to the top of the first climb easily and then headed downhill towards Bear creek. Another climb then a screaming downhill to the Platte river. Segment one complete!

view from top of fist climb

burnout!

Segment 2 climbs up from the Platte into a monstrous burnout. I'd read horror stories about how hot it could be up there from the exposure and lack of trees but there was a fairly strong breeze so I stayed nice and cool.

Although cool, this section required a fair amount of work. 

After riding some amazing trail in segment 3, I got on the first detour of the day and headed down to Bailey for a refuel.

I knew there would be a gas station in Bailey from my research, but when I got there, the station was closed! Bummer! I was planning on stocking up for the long haul over to Copper Mtn but this was putting a kink in my plans. Being a one gas station town, there weren't too many other options. I noticed a little gift shop down the street so I rolled over to see if they had anything I might need. They had a few candy bars, not much, but it would have to do.

Looking across valley towards Georgia Pass

atop Georgia Pass after storm

After leaving Bailey, the route climbed up and over Kenosha Pass, across a beautiful valley on amazing trail, then the long, long climb up to Georgia Pass. Near the top of Georgia, I had my first encounter with an full, all-out lightning storm. Holy Crap! I thought I was toast right there. I just left the bike and ran as fast as I could back down to the relative safety below treeline. I was going to need to be a little more cautious from here on out. After the storm passed, I hiked back up to the bike and made quick work of Georgia before the next storm hit. On my way off Georgia pass, I came across a cooler stocked full of candy and sodas, This was actually a God send because of the closed gas station down in Bailey. I'm not real sure of the whole etiquette thing with having coolers full of snacks out in the middle of the wilderness, I don't think I really like it, but it saved me.


I finally made it to Breckenridge and Gold Hill trailhead around 10 pm totally trash. My plan was to make it over 10 mile range to Copper mountain the first day, but at the base of Ten Mile, I was seeing strange things and falling off my bike, so I decided to call it a day.

Day 2....

Looking up to top of Ten Mile

Day 2 started with a 3000 foot hike-a-bike to the top of Ten Mile Range. Now, I've done a lot of HAB in my day, but this monster has to take the cake. It just kept going up and up and then when I thought I might be having enough fun for one day, I topped out. The views from on top were absolutely spectacular! And this was just the first 6 miles or so of my day! The riding across the top of Ten Mile was rough and rocky, but once I started down the other side to Copper Mountain, the trail became singletrack heaven.

Victory! Top of Ten Mile

Next up was the climb up to Searle and Kokomo passes. This was a much more pleasant trail to go up then what I had just experienced on Ten Mile. I was actually surprised at how much of it was rideable. About half way up, I caught four riders that had started the day before. Two of them were from West Virginia and two were from Phoenix. I wish I could remember their names, I'm absolutely horrible with names. We made it to the top and stopped to watch two huge storms approaching. After watching for a while, it appeared the storms were going on either side of us. This gave us a chance to make a break for it. We flew up and over Indian Ridge all the while keeping an eye on the storms. The downhill off Indian Ridge down to Camp Hale is one of the most spectacular downhills on the whole route! Miles and miles of absolutely screaming singletrack!

After Camp Hale, we climbed up and over Tennessee pass, rode some more trail, Then rode the highway into Leadville and some much needed food. We found a little burrito truck that was fantastic! I think I alone ate three quesadillos and three burritos before I even started to feel full. It was the first real meal I'd eaten since I left Denver, so i was absolutely famished.

After eating and lounging for a while, the two West Virginia boys decided they were done with their CTR ride (they had run out of time), so we said goodby and I was off with the two Phoenix guys. The next few miles to Twin Lakes were fast and fun. The Phoenix guys, at this point, decided to call it a night. I had big plans of making it to Buena Vista before stopping, so I continued onward. After riding and riding and still not making out to Clear creek, I decided I should stop and live to fight another day. I found a spot under a short pine tree and passed out.

 Day 3....

Day three started out with an amazing downhill down to Clear creek and then a quick and pleasant ride into Buena Vista on paved and dirt roads. Once in BV, I made a bee-line to the Subway, ate a footlong and 6 in, then went to the 7eleven to stock up. When I say stock up, I mean pack as much food as I possible can into every available pocket, nook, cranny, and crevice as I possibly can find.  I've  read in my research that its almost 200 miles to the next easy restock point, so I'm a little nervous. This leads me to probably way over packing on the junk food but I guess better safe than sorry.

On my way out of town looking like an overloaded gypsy wagon, I run into my next two riding partners. Glen and Wayne were absolute beast on there machines! Whether climbing boulder strewn climbs, bombing down hair raising descents, or tackling obnoxious HABs, they were not afraid. I rode with, or should I say, hung on all day to almost highway 50. Finally they decided to stop for water and I decided to keep rolling figuring they would catch me. Unfortunately, I didn't see them again until a couple days later.

After highway 50 is when things really started getting interesting. It started off innocently enough, riding through beautiful old growth forest along Fooses creek. I had noticed the sky getting darker and darker. I didn't think much about it but soon it started to sprinkle. Then it started raining harder and harder eventually becoming a down right deluge. This wasn't the kind of rain that passes after an half hour, it was the kind that could last all night. Fooses climb is notorious for being one of the toughest climbs on the CT. After climbing for a couple hours in the driving rain and getting wetter and colder, I finally decided to bivy under a pine tree. I had wanted to make it to Marshall pass before stopping for the day, but the weather conditions were just getting too difficult for my tired state. This is when my phone got wet and I was no longer able to take any pictures. 

After laying there shivering for about three hours, I saw two sets of lights coming up the trail. Could it be Wayne and Glenn? No, but I wasn't real sure who it was. I was a little ways off the trail so they didn't see me under the tree. I thought to myself, 'if they can hike up into that storm, then I can too'! After mustering up the nerve to put on my wet shoes and climb out into the rain I was off hiking into the unknown.

Before long, I was hiking up above tree-line and it was starting to dump snow. Snow in August, how crazy is this! Man this trail seems to be never-ending and going straight up. Eventually, I would top out on the famous Monarch Crest trail. At that point, the full moon popped out and I got the most unbelievable view of the surrounding mountain ranges from 12000 feet. I looked at my thermometer, 32 degrees. Better get going, very cold.

Riding down towards Marshall pass, I happened to catch a glimpse of two riders on the ground in their bivies. I stopped when one of them said 'hey, who goes there?'. Wow, it was my buddy from Florida, Chad Parker, who I'd been trying to catch since I'd started. He and, the one and only, Ethan Passant, were the ones I'd seen hiking up into the storm. I had had enough of the rain, snow, and wind, so I once again pulled out my bivy and lightly passed out with them.

Day 4....

Sometime before daylight, I woke up to Chad walking around saying he was freezing. So he packed up and took off down the trail. Before long, Ethan was up also and gone leaving me laying there with a sharp rock sticking right into my hip. I could barely move. It was my first time sleeping above 10000 feet and I wasn't coping to well. It was like I just couldn't catch my breath. I hadn't noticed this shortness of breath until now, and I was fine once I was on my bike, it was just when I laid down that I had trouble breathing. Finally, I made myself crawl out into the frigid air, I packed my soaking wet gear, and headed down to Marshall.

The sun was absolutely wonderful at Marshall pass! The cows were happily munching on there grass. I decided to hang out and try to dry some of my gear and soak up some rays. I hung out there way too long. After freezing all night, I just wanted to be lazy. But I needed to get going, it was a long ways to Spring Creek pass, my next destination.

The next segment was absolutely horrible! It's called Sargent's Mesa and strikes fear in the hearts of even the most hardened bikepackers. It's basically a motorcycle trail that does not follow the contour of the land, but instead, goes straight up and down and is full of huge boulders and ruts. I think its an absolute waste of the CT and hopefully it will be able to be rerouted in the future.

Anyway, I caught up to Chad Parker, who was absolutely having a blast just being out in the Colorado wilderness. We rode together for awhile until we got to Tank Seven creek and filled up on water since it would be quite a few miles before another opportunity to refill. At this point, Jesse Jakomait passed us. I'm still in disbelief at how fast these cats were riding this trail! In the end, Jefe, Ethan, and Jesse finished right at four days. Truly unbelieveable!

Chad and I ended up splitting ways since we were riding different paces. I kept riding a little and hiking a lot. The trail just never seemed to ever get any flow. I got stuck in several more storms all of which had big hail and terrifying lightning. On one of the rocky downhills, I got a little out of control, kicked up a huge rock into my frame, and CRACK! I stopped to survey the damage and, sure enough, my bike was broken. The rock had jumped up into the direct-mount front derailleur and snapped it and the seat tube. After all that work, my trip was done. I limped out to Apple's camp and hung out with some hikers for a while trying to decide what to do. I decided to set up camp, get a good night's sleep, and decide what to do in the morning when I could think more clearly.

In the morning, Chad, Dan Miller-Lionberg, Wayne, Glenn, and Cat Morrison had arrived. After hanging around camp for a couple hours with everyone, they decided to continue on and I decided to make the call I didn't want to. I hate quitting, but I was just to afraid my machine wouldn't make it through the Cataract section. Fortunately, it was only 30 downhill miles to Gunnison, so I made the decision and my trip was done.

In the end....

The swelling in my feet went down after a few days, saddle chaffing healed up, but to this day I still can't stop thinking about what I experienced in Colorado. It was truly an experience that will never be forgotten.

Huracan 300

I've been meaning to start a blog for some time now, but every time I sit down to write an entry, something always comes up. Now I that I'm in recovery mode from the Huracan, I've got a little time.

I've had my eye on the Huracan for some time now. Reading others accounts of the race just kept adding to my desire to race the Huracan. I'd ridden areas such as Santos and Alifia, so I knew there was some high quality singletrack in Florida, I was just a little leary about what lie in between.

After waiting weeks and weeks in anticipation, Huracan weekend finally rolled around. I grabbed all my gear and bike and headed south for Florida. After sitting in a backup for an hour and a half trying to get into Atlanta, I finally made through one of the biggest cruxes of the entire weekend. I made it through Atlanta in one piece and the rest of the trip was pretty much smooth sailing. Before I knew it, I was sitting at my campsite with Chad Parker going over different setups, talking race strategy, and generally just having a good time shooting the bull.

After a restless, sleepless night with trains rolling by all night long (those of you that have camped at Santos know what I'm talking about), race day was finally here. Chad and I rolled out at 6:40 for a quick breakfast at Cracker Barrel, a pit stop at Publix for last minute supplies, and we were ready to go. The start was in front of Greenway Cycles across the road from Santos. Karlos went over some last minute details, had everyone toot there whistles, while I was still trying to remember the mystical sequence of buttons to push on my Spot unit. The GPS track was tracking perfectly. I was a little worried about that since I'd never used an Edge 500 for tracking purposes before, but it worked beautifully. And then we were off.

Karlos had called for a neutral start until the first singletrack but it was spread much more quickly then that. Chad, Chris, and a third rider were feeling good and before long they were out of sight. I found myself in a group consisting of real heavy hitters. Shey Lidner, who needs no introduction, Kelly Klett, hundred mile master, and another rider (I'm bad with names), were absolutely flying along. In a flash, we were through the first section of singletrack and back out onto a mix of pavement and sand. Once we got into the Ocala National Forest the roads really straightnened out and we caught a glimpse of the front runners. They had managed to get a gap of about a quarter mile and so dropped the hammer. At this point, I happened to look around and noticed it was just the two of us in pursuit. Eventually, we were able to make contact with the front group and then things finally slowed down for a bit.

After many more miles seemingly, endless forest road, we got to our first real hard section of the course. The thing about riding in Florida is that all there is is sand. Lots of sand! Florida may lack in geological ups and downs, but really makes up for it in really deep sand. It was now Shey, Chad, and I in the lead and we got into our first real section of sand. It was probably five miles of the thick stuff! We finally figured out that if we rode slightly off-trail in the weeds, it was slightly more solid. Then the weeds would end in sand and you'd have to try and wade across the sand to the next patch of weeds. This would continue until we finally made to the next section of singletrack.

Paisley is an awsome section of singletrack that gives one a real feeling of isolation. I kept thinking to myself that if you got lost out there, it would be very rough, very easy to die of dehydration. Where I'm from in Tennessee, there are stream crossings everywhere, but here in Florida, there really are very, very few water sources. After Paisley, we found a water spigot at a church retreat and loaded up knowing there may not be any more water for a long while.

After leaving the retreat, we rolled quickly through Seminole forest, Rock Springs, and weikawa singletrack. We got to a spot on some doubletrack where the gps track suddenly veered had left straight into the woods. Shey and I looked at each dived blindly into the forest. Eventually, we popped out onto one of the most beautiful and scary river crossing I've ever seen! The water was crystal clear and cold. I could just see a huge alligator lurking in the weeds, grabbing my leg, and pulling me under in a death roll. After some carefully surveying the surroundings, we quickly waded across to safety on the other side. Its amazing the rejuvenating effect cold water has on tired muscles! Despite the fear of being eaten, the river crossing was amazing to the body! Even though we wanted to hang out there for the rest of the day, there was work to be done and we were off riding more amazing singletrack before eventually getting out on pavement and back to civilization.

Shey Lidner and I somewhere just before Zellwood.
photo courtesy: Chad Parker

After a few miles of pavement riding, we stopped at a convenience store in Zellwood to top off supplies. It was around 4:45 in the afternoon. After a few minutes of taking a break, we took off for Apopka preserve.

Apopka was were things started to unravel for me. It started off fine. Shey and I had a great time watching the gators chasing fish and glad we weren't rolling through there in the dark. Eventually, we got away from the canals and got onto a wide grass trail. I noticed that my stomach was starting to feel a little funny. I knew I had been drinking and eating regularly, so thought it was just a passing gas pain. The grass eventually gave way to completely, unrideable sand. In Florida, they make these till rows to keep wild fires from spreading uncontrollably. This trail obviously had just been tilled very recently because it was thick. In the middle of our several mile hike-a bike-through-snad, my stomach completely turned upside down. After pretty much crawling the last mile, we finally made it back out to sweet pavemant. Thats where Shey and I split ways. Shey was feeling great and I told him not to wait up, maybe i'd see him later on in the night.

After sitting on the side of the road for 15 to 20 minutes, my stomach finally slowed enough to ride. On and on I rode. It seemed like I was getting to some hills but I was in Florida and there are no hills. But yes, there were hills. Not tall, but very steep and after 130+ miles and a fragile stomach, they seemed like the rockies. Somewhere in the hills, I spotted an orange tree with lots of oranges. Of course, I couldn't resist and ate a few of them. A huge mistake I will never make again!

I finally made it to Clermont and spotted a McDonalds where I could probably grab some quick junk food. Guess Shey had the same idea, he was just headed out into the night looking fresh as ever. I wished him luck and went inside. There was a man and his son in line and they just couldn't decide what they wanted. They would place their order then change it, then change it back with a little variation. This went on for at least ten minutes. To top it off, it was the first night on the job for the cashier. While I was standing there in line, my world started to spin. I couldn't make it. I had to make a beeline for the restroom and up came all the oranges and whatever else was in there. When I finally composed myself and came back out, there were 15 people in line, so I gave on trying to shove any food done even though I really needed the calories. I didn't any more food in until the next day.

The next miles were just a blur. Every so often, I would have to stop and yack but I was still moving forward. I don't really remember to much until I got to Center Grade road. It must be the Friday night hanging spot because every hoo-haw in central Florida seemed to be out there. That road is farely deep sand and it must be great fun to take a big truck drift around every curve at 70 mph. I could hear them coming before I saw them, so I had a chance to jump to safety in the woods. I finally was so tired of doing this over and over, being sick, and scared of getting ran over, I finally laid down somewhere in the woods and instantly passed out. Sometime in the middle of the night, I woke up shivering uncontrollably, so I threw on some leg and arm warmers, and passed back out again.

The next time I woke up, it was starting to get light out. Crap, I'd slept for 6 hrs, 4 hrs longer than I wanted too! I did, however, feel 100% better, so I jumped on the bike and off I was. It was pretty much a mix of sand, limestone, and pavement until I got to the Withlacoochee trail. The Coochee is a rail trail that is wonderful pavement. There happened to be some sort of road race going on, so there were these wonderful sag stopped stocked with fruit, cookies, danishes, and gatorade. I hadn't had any food since the day before when I ate the oranges and they all came up, so I was pretty withered. The aid workers must have noticed and told me to eat as much as possible. It was a real life saver!

Next up was Croom singletrack. I'd ridden there before, so I had some idea of what to expect. However, the last time I rode there, I was fresh. This time, I had 200+ miles of sand in my legs. The steep ups and downs were absolutely brutal! There are a couple places on the trail, if you feel off the side, you could break something serious or worse, so there was quite a lot of careful, slow riding. Eventually, I popped back out of the woods onto a limestone road which led back to the Withlacoochee.

While riding along the rail trail, out popped Kari Lidner from a gas station. She had just drank a coke and the caffeine was kicking in. The circle was complete. I'd started the race chasing Shey and now I was struggling to keep up with Kari who had been riding all night! With renewed energy, we quickly got off the cooche and entered Potts preserve where it rained on us a little making the sand just sticky enough to stick to everything. At the end of Potts, we popped out along a canal. At this point, my body decided it needed food and lots of food. We finally got to Hwy 200 and there was a beautiful, glorious subway. Kari was anxious to get back and see Shey and so she continued on. The footlong chicken sub I got was one of the all-time best meals I've ever eaten, seriously!

Finally feeling awsome, I took off down 200, turned left, and there was Kari walking around in the middle of the road. She wasn't quite sure where the gps was leading her. We figured out that we had to hop a fence and then continued on through, you guessed it, more sand. I just put my head down and just put one pedal in front of the other knowing some beautiful singletrack of Santos was not far off. Somewhere along the way, I lost track of Kari. I waited for her for a while but never saw her. I had seen another racer at the subway (can't remember his name), so I knew he was not far behind. If something happened to Kari, I knew he was right behind her. I later found out she really just hates sand.

The trip through Santos was uneventful, just endless, flowy singletrack. I eventually popped out at the trailhead and the end of this amazing trip. I finished in 1 day 9 h 45 min, good enough for 4th place. Great job to all those who finished this unexpectedly, hard route! I am already looking forward next year.