SIR 400k Pre-ride: A rookie mistake.

I will update this post with photos once I have had a chance to upload them.. :(

Short version

DNF!

Had the beginnings of a cold. Didn't bank much time at any of the controls. Had 26 minutes at Farmer, where I just stopped to take a picture of the hall. Had an hour and 8 minutes at Pateros. Lost time on the section to Twisp. Nice headwind and a crosswind. Rode strong over Loup Loup pass. Had about 40 minutes at the Omak Store. Made good time on Columbia River Road, but ran out of food about 5 miles from the turn onto 155. Called Shane and Chantel, who came and picked me up: he said I was slurring my words, which is not a good sign.

In hindsight, I should have just asked him to bring me some food and continued, but I didn't want to get support outside of the controls. I learnt that I needed to carry more food than necessary. This was particularly stupid, because I carried lots of food for the first 75 miles which lasted me almost till Omak. So, it is not as though I am stupid all the time, but, in this case, with no support until Electric City, my mistake got magnified.

Long Version

Prologue

Duane and I drove together to the start, and had a nice dinner with the pre-riders at a restaurant in Ephrata. We Woke up early, and got dressed up for the early morning chill. It was cold at the start, maybe in the 40s. There were several of us: Geoff Swarts, Matt Dalton, Mark Thomas, Mike Norman, Thomas Martin, myself, Duane Wright, Tom Brett, and Bob Brudvik. This was an almost entirely new route to me. The only section that I was familar with was the section on 97 from the 97A intersection to Pateros, and the section from Pateros to Twisp, both of which I rode on the 2006 1000k. Not what I would call "hard".

Ephrata to Farmer

The first section was to go through the Sagebrush Flats, and the Moses Coulee. "A whole lot of nothing" quipped Mark Thomas. Kent Peterson that quotable ex-randonneur once said of the Sagebrush Flat "It gets the 'flat' part its name for the same reason that three-hundred pound tattooed Harley riders are sometimes named '"Tiny'. It is a description that stuck to me. Since there were no services for the first 75 miles, I was well stocked up with food and water: I had 3 Bananas, 3 PowerBars and 12 Pepperidge Farm cookies in my bag, and two water bottles. I stashed a 1-liter bottle of water in my Carradice.

The road tilted up immediately, and Duane and I quickly dropped back, while the group took off ahead of us. Duane was riding his fixed-gear, an insane choice considering the length of some of the climbs and the descents. To top this off, he had just ran a marathon the previous weekend. Not my idea of a recovery ride. The terrain was mostly dry, not much vegetation except sagebrush. The first few miles were mostly up, and once we got to the "top" of the climb, we had a nice descent on which I lost Duane. I descend like a rock, and Duane was on fixed-gear. I didn't know this then, but this was the last I would see of Duane for a while.

After a couple of bone-jarring gravel stretches of just a few feet in length, I got to a T-junction. The route sheet said make a left turn onto Highway 2, and that didn't register until I started riding towards a sign that said Highway 2 West. This was a steady climb again, and I soft-pedaled several times to let Duane catch up. But he was nowhere in sight. I had a bit of a tailwind as I approached th Farmer Control. I took a few pictures and checked th clock, and sure enough, I only had about 26 minutes in the bank.

Farmer to Pateros

My mental strength on rides is directly proportional to how well I am riding. If I am too close to the cut-offs I am not at my happiest. I ate a couple of cookies and left immediately from Farmer, and was met with long rollers. Spectacular views of the mountains everywhere, but the immediate vicinity was mostly farms. The rollers on this stretch were vicious. The paucity of training miles showed. Every mile there would be a road cutting across, going to some farm, but apart from that there was precious little.

I turned onto McNeil Canyon Road and was met with more uphills, but a little while later, I stopped to see if Duane was behind me. I thought I saw his jacket, but I wasn't too sure. I kept on and after some climbing, I saw a sign that said "McNeil Pass Summit". I hadn't expected to be climbing a mountain pass, but this was another pass climbed. The next few miles were all downhill, and I lost altitude like I have never done before: I didn't touch the brakes once, but the winds were vicious. Tucking in helps lose in minutes what one spends hours to climb.

I thought about stopping at Beebe park for water, but I had a half a bottle. I thought about turning back, but decided to keep going to save time. The day was warming up and I stopped to take off some clothing, and who should swing by but Shane, who gave me a hearty hug. I hadn't met him since we rode the Three Rivers Cruise permanent right after PBP 2007. It was fun catching up with Shane and Chantel. I got some water from him and took off again, aided by a nice tailwind. Familiar roads again. I rode this stretch at night in 2006 and it was good to see the sights during the day. I got to Pateros a couple of minutes before noon, and had about an hour and 12 minutes in the bank.

Pateros to Twisp

Shane was here to sign my card, and I filled my water bottles again with the left over water from the previous riders. Apparently the other riders had left only 15 minutes earlier, but coupled with my 10 minute stay here, I was 25 minutes behind. I had no chance of catching up with anybody. I left without waiting for Duane, figuring that his superior speed would help him catch up. The road follows the Methow river, and the wind was picking up a little bit. I had a headwind for the most part, and it turned into a cross-wind after a few miles. I saw people on boats coming down the Methow, and stopped to take pictures of interesting road names, bridges and the river itself.

I was heading straight towards an area with dark clouds and about 10 miles, I was pelted by a brief shower of sorts which dried off almost immediately. I went by the store in Carlton not buying anything as I still had a PowerBar, a Banana and about 7 cookies. Just before the Highway 20 turn off, I knocked on a house for water, but nobody was around. I just filled up water from their hose. I now had about 50 minutes in the bank. Not very good with a mountain pass coming up.

Twisp to Omak

I decided to just follow the route sheet instead of the discussed Lower Beaver Creek Road. The road tilted up for a bit, but flattened out for pretty much the rest of the way. I first tried accelerating every few hundred meters and then slacking off, but that burned me too quickly, so I just started pedalling at a consistent rate. The shoulder was not that awesome, but the grade was quite gentle. I reached the summit of Loup Loup pass in about 2 hours and 18 minutes, which put my speed at just about 5-6 miles an hour. I took a few photographs, and then left.

The descent from Loup Loup for the next 7 miles was something else. Going West on this Pass would be a bit of a pain, but I was going down this time. I had a steep pitch after 7 miles and that got me crawling again, but it wasn't for very long. I really enjoyed that 7 mile stretch: it was my high-point of the ride. I stopped to eat the last of my cookies and got to Omak around 7.20, but not before I got confused about the Main Street turn (it was 2 miles further than advertised). I had 40 minutes in the bank. Not very much, but I still had a shot at finishing.

Omak to DNF

I always pictured Omak to be a cute little town, but sadly it wasn't. Oh well.

I bought and stashed three Bananas for the road ahead. I filled up my water bottles, and then sat down to eat the Cheese Burrito that I also bought. I thought for an instant if it was adequate food, and then I remembered thinking that Shane would be some 40 miles up the road in Nespelem. Figuring that I would last 40 miles on the food I had, I waited for Duane. A bunch of kids on bikes chatted with me as I waited. I told them that I was headed to Nespelem, and they said "Wow! That's far", almost in unison. I also dressed up for the night. I made two critical mistakes here: I forgot to buy a Starbucks DoubleShot and extra food. My plan was to restock with Shane and Chantel.

Around 7.40, I figured I had to get a move on. I left Omak and turned right on to Columbia River Road. I expected it to be a very quiet road, which it was. The road surface wasn't bad either. I thought the road would follow the river downstream, which meant a whole lotta downhills, but sadly that wasn't true. The road was rolling, and I ate the first of my Bananas a little too quickly for comfort. I was feeling strong however. The hills weren't that bad and the wind had completely died down. Darkness set in, and the only things I heard were the buzzing of my tyres, critters and barking dogs. After a brilliant Sunset, I saw the Columbia River flowing to my left, and the road tilted up again. I was treated to a most spectacular moonrise above some lake, which I enjoyed greatly.

I eat a lot when I climb a lot, and this meant that I was eating the second of my bananas even before I got to about the 20 mile point. I still felt good. After about 10 miles, I ate the last of my bananas and that was when I knew I was in trouble. I thought I still had 10 something miles to go before I could possibly get my hands on food, but I was wrong about that too.

Usually pretty good about just being in the present and not worrying about the road ahead, I started thinking about the 70 miles or so that I had to the finish. This was my first clue that I was "off". I stopped for about 5 minutes to try and gather my thoughts, and I started riding again. The road tilted severely up, and I found myself having no energy to turn the pedals. I was falling asleep on the bike, and zig-zagged up this climb, whose top I couldn't see. I was completely demoralized. I knew that there would be nothing open in Nespelem, and I knew that I didn't have the energy to get to wherever Shane was.

I thought I could stop somebody and get some food, started flagging down cars, but nobody stopped. It didn't look like I was going to make it to Nespelem. It is very hard to identify the exact process by which one says "I am going to DNF", but mine came half-way up the climb to Nespelem. I was tired, hungry, and demoralized. I started walking up the hill, thinking if I could only get to the top of this climb, I would be ok. After all, I had more than an hour in the bank. But even walking felt hard.

I called Shane to let him know that I was done. I was apparently slurring my words, and not really coherent. I sat down and a car pulled up. It was a driver asking if I needed help. I asked him to give me a ride to Nespelem where Shane would come and pick me up. Shane and Chantel showed up a little while later. I got something to eat, and we loaded up my bike in their car and went looking for Duane, who I had not seen since that climb to McNeil Pass. We couldn't locate him. We loaded up the car and headed back to Ephrata.

We were really worried about Duane, but he showed up around 9.30. He had ridden through the night after taking several catnaps. That was pretty good. We drove back on Sunday, stopping at Ellensburg for a nice lunch.

I rode Redmond-Carbon Glacier the following week in 10:43. My first sub-11 hour 200k in a while... That kept my R-12 streak going :)

Spring 600K: Three little letters...

D.....N.....F.

I read a wise man's discussion list posting when I was new to randonneuring that the memory of failing due to lack of time was pale in comparison to the haunting memory of quitting a brevet. I am here to report that the gentleman knew what he was talking about. I quit the SIR 600k at Naches, having called Jeff Tilden about 5 miles prior, with knee pain and cramps in my legs. And I now highly regret that choice. It pains me greatly that all these volunteers spent all this time, money and effort into ensuring that we had a good ride, and I wasted their effort. This one stings!

My whinefest follows...

Start

I was still sore from a fairly strenuous hike the Sunday prior, and was in two minds about starting the ride, as my legs didn't feel fresh at all. I made a day-of-ride decision to show up at the start. 50+ randos were gathered around, and I registered. Brad Tilden's dog greeted the riders, albeit with a stick in his mouth. A sign of things to come!

The skies threatened, but didn't open up at the start. I rode in a big pack, but lost them all to the hill on Black Nugget Road, and further lost them when my wife called barely 5 miles into the ride. I had forgotten something very important: a bye bye kiss. I caught up to and passed Bill Alsup just before Novelty Hill Road, but had to stop and don my helmet cover and rain pants when the rains came down in earnest. Ron Himschoot and Don Jameson stopped along with me, and we all changed. The next few miles can only be described in one word: miserable. The rains were coming down hard, and I was mostly dry save for my hands, which were wet from my gloves letting water in. Eamon Stanley passed me just before the two lumpy bits on Ben Howard Road, and I slogged along at a pedestrian pace, until Skykomish, facing headwinds every now and then, but mostly just regretting not riding much in the past 8 or 9 weeks. I was slower than normal, but I had a bank of an hour and 45 minutes at Skykomish. This was to be my biggest comfort margin throughout the ride.

Skykomish to Leavenworth

I didn't stop here for very long, but did buy a Pay Day bar, and ate my on bike food stores. I left Bill Alsup at the control, because I could not afford to waste one moment. The climb up the pass was slow and I thought back to the last time I climbed Stevens: We had a roaring 30mph tailwind that pushed me all the way to the left hook. This time progress was slow, and just before the hook, I pulled up with a severe cramp in my left leg. Bill had passed me a few miles earlier and I saw him pull away, and disappear. Resting for about 5 minutes alleviated my cramp and I continued on, slowing down further. I had to stop a few times to wring out the water from my gloves. Ugh! This is when the first thoughts of quitting the ride entered my head. On a 600, I aim for 3 hours of sleep at night, and based on the amount of time I was giving back on these climbs, I didn't have a chance of sleeping that much. My goal was to make up 15 or 20 minutes per leg and somehow get to 3 hours of a bank. I made it to the top [I forget the time now], but I was the last one over. The first few miles of descent were cold, but I was dressed to the core anyways, and just bombed down the other side, pedalling every now and then when I felt the speed come down.

The skies really cleared about 2000 feet down the summit. Living on the west side of the Cascades does stink! The weather was spectacular here. I warmed up, and got to Leavenworth with about an hour and 35 minutes in the bank. I had passed Bill somewhere, but told him I would be at the Subway. We met there, had food and set off again, after about 15 mins.

Leavenworth to Ellensburg

The first few miles were a nice downhill to the turn onto US 97, but soon after we were buffeted by headwinds, but not for long. I felt really strong on the initial bit of Blewett Pass, which means that I able to maintain my momentum. I left Bill behind, but my wife called a couple of times to report some trouble, and Bill caught and passed me on my second or third stop. Brad drove down to check up on us. That was very nice of him. This however led me to believe that the summit was closer than it actually was. The last 5 miles to Blewett were total torture for me. I thought it was 3 miles but it turned out to be 5 miles, and we finally got to the top at around 7.47p [To compare, Urs Koenig to the overnight control at 8p]. Brad Tilden nursed us back to health, and I took off again, bombing down the descent to the left turn to stay on US97. In hindsight, I should not have stopped at the top, and just continued on, as I didn't feel the need to eat. That may have saved me 15 minutes.

The descent was windy but I enjoyed it, making myself small and going down to the drops. I dispatched the long uphill with relative ease, thanks to the wind. I did notice that there was a flat alternative that we didn't take! This stretch featured a lot of tumbleweeds. The descent down that road to the plains was something I will remember for a long time. A road with a surface like butter, a rip-roaring tailwind and a overweight rider all contributed to a smashing 40+ mile per hour descent. I knew I had to turn right at some point however, and the flags were pointed full east, which was not a good sign, but I lived in the present, milking the downhill for all it was worth.

The directions regarding Faust Road confused me and I took a couple of minutes to make sure I was headed the right way. When I pulled off my glove, the liner inside and the outside of the glove separated, so I spent 10 minutes trying to finagle that thing back in. Didn't work. I just rode on with my fingers shoved into whatever slots I could find. Ugh! I remembered Brad telling me up at the pass that he would meet me in Ellensburg and I rode slowly through town, and finally stopping for food at the Shell gas Station near the end of town. The time was 9.55. I had an hour and 48 minutes in the bank. My record of having 3 hour sleep breaks on overnight rides was going to be history now.

Ellensburg to Naches

I think I was the first person to stop at this gas station because the counter person didn't recognize the card. I sat down for 10 minutes and ate HALF of my Candy Bar [NOT GOOD] and took off. The first few miles of Canyon Road had rumble Strips, and I rode to the left at first, unsure of the riding conditions. Traffic was practically non-existent, but I rode comfortably. Eventually the rumble strips went away, and I was able to ride in great peace. The river flowed idly by lit by the moonlight, and the soft silhouette of the mountains in the background dotted by the occasional house or farm was a great sight. And the stars! OH the STARS! Being a city boy means too much light pollution. Two shooting stars! Not the massive ones like the ones Paul and I saw near Pateros a few years back, but good ones. About 5 miles from the end of Canyon Road I saw two lights flickering in the distance, and thought somebody had flatted. It turned out to be Matt Mikul and Jennifer Chang taking a break. Jennifer gave me some very nice treats from Trader Joe's, and we set off.

The hills on Canyon Road separated us, but we regrouped at Selah. Now, I thought there was going to be a good stop somewhere here and was riding to make it there. That point however was not anywhere near where I was riding. I had no power for Pleasant Hill Road, which true to its name had a hill, and this is where my left knee started hurting, and the cramp in my right leg was back with a vengeance! I lost Matt and Jennifer. I wasnt going to get any sleep, my legs were cramping, and my knee started throbbing again this time with a vengeance. The flat portion of Mapleway offered no succour. I stopped to call the organizers, but my cell phone battery was dead! Did I heed this sign? Of course not.

Matt and Jennifer, bless their hearts were waiting for me at the turn, and I mentioned my cramps and my knee pain to Jennifer and Matt, and told them I wanted to quit. Jennifer gave me Electrolytes to calm down the cramping, and offered to ride with us, but faced with the ghastly wind and the knowledge that a 25 mile climb where I would lose all my time lay ahead, my resolve was gone. I now knew that I would not get any sleep. I was a bit daunted by this prospect. I told them that I had mentally checked out. Jennifer gave me her phone, but my ride buddies would not let me quit. They offered to slow down and draft to save me from the wind. So, we continued on along these truly nasty rumble strips, but despite their reduced pace, they pulled away. Oh, if only I had thought to eat!

I think I was lost mentally. The wind was horrid, and I could not see the point in continuing. My knee was now yelling at me full force, and I just stopped riding. I forgot the cardinal rule of brevet ending: EAT before you decide. I had a Half a candy bar, a bag of Sustained Energy and I still didn't think of stopping to eat. How completely stupid! All those years of reading ride reports was to avoid precisely this situation. But, I didn't recall any of those words of wisdom that I had so ravenously coveted. I left word with the organizers that I was planning to bag it.

Shortly after, Mark and Jeff Tilden pulled up, and I told them I was done. I am quite surprised now that Mark didn't try to knock some sense into me. Over the years, he has given me a good look in the eye or a real positive word, and that gave me confidence that I could do it, even as I doubted my own abilities. I must have looked really really bad. They loaded me up in Mark's car and we drove back towards Ellensburg to check on Bill Alsup, who had just gotten into Ellensburg after taking a while to figure out a nasty flat. He decided to bag it too, and we headed back to the "secret" control on US12, and checked up on several riders. The fact that I quit didn't grate on me as much as it does now. At the lodge, I met Allison again after a long time, and saw several riders sitting there, probably getting ready to head out. I would get my three hours of sleep after all, but not the way I wanted to earn it.

Sunday

Jeff Tilden us woke up with a cheery "Breakfast is served", and we all headed out to the main cabin, where I met Paul Whitney, who had also DNFd. Mark Thomas remarked that I had the classic signs of regret on my face. That was true! We left after some tricks to get Bill's bike up on Shan's roof rack.

We checked up on the riders climbing White pass: Peg Winczewski, Lesli Larson, Matt Mikul and Jennifer Chang. We waited for them at the turn off to Cayuse, where I met another old friend, Paul Johnson, who comforted me about my DNF. We saw the last few riders off and headed for home, passing several as they were climbing spectacular Cayuse Pass. It was cold and foggy at the top, and several riders were also descending the pass. Ron Himschoot stopped to talk to us even as he was putting on a second skullcap! Shan Perera drove me home, and the regret began in earnest.

The Oregon Fall 600k is my only chance of continuing my Super Randonneur streak (now at 2 years). Paul Whitney the organizer, promises to make it reasonable! I have no plans to ride the Jan Heine 600k. No way, Jose! My poor heart cannot withstand another DNF. However, one thing is certain: the next time they run this ride, I am going to hammer this course into submission.

I am planning to ride next week's OR Covered Bridges 400 as penance. As of Thursday, my left knee still hurts, even when I walk.