Month: July 2013

A few months ago Matt turned on “The Town that Was” while browsing Hulu.  I’m ever the curious person about towns/places that are abandoned, especially for human caused reason, so we left the documentary on and watched with big eyes.  Chernobyl?  That has been #1 on my bucket list since I was 12 years old).  Heck, I’ve even explored an abandoned town that kept up Nike missile sites in NJ during a car meet, and we kept entertained by posing our cars in the abandoned driveways for photo opps.  So needless to say, the documentary, which was about Centralia, PA, more than intrigued Matt and I, and it didn’t take me long to Google where it was in relation to our other planned activities in Pennsylvania.

Centralia is a former coal mining town located in eastern central Pennsylvania.  In 1962 somehow the coal under the town caught on fire.  There’s different theories on how it happened, but either way it occurred in the town landfill, so obviously someone wasn’t doing things properly.  Things kind of just went on their ways until the 1970s when people started realizing their underground gasoline tanks were super hot, and a poor child fell into a massive sinkhole that developed under him in his backyard (he was rescued).  Of course, the lethal amounts of carbon monoxide wafting up from the ground was a good sign things weren’t going well, too.  The government offered residents relocation packages, and most of the town’s residents accepted.  There were some holdouts, and in the early 1990s the government enacted Imminent Domain, which seized all the property and condemned all the structures.  Later on USPS revoked the zip code (ouch).  Still, there are a few holdouts, fighting lawsuits and all sorts of conspiracy theories surrounding Centralia, such as the government just wants the mineral rights to all the coal underneath the town.

As for the fire, it still burns.  From what I’ve read, it’s 400 acres and spreading in all directions.  Oh, and it’s suppose to burn for a couple more centuries or so.  Yes, centuries.  As for what’s left of the town… there’s a few old row houses without there row-counterparts, with walls supported by weird brick flying buttress supports.  The drab looking municipal building is still there as well, and some very well manicured cemeteries.  Nature has reclaimed the rest, with new growth forests filling in where houses once stood, sliced by city streets that go nowhere.

We found Centralia quite easy by taking PA 61 south from where we exited I-80.  At first we nearly drove right by it.  There’s no town sign, and really since there’s nothing there, there’s nothing to tell you, well, that you’re there.  A U-turn remedied our mistake, and we took to driving through the empty streets.  Matt was instantly disappointed for the lacking of smoke billowing out of the ground, like the documentary showed.  We drove to the top of the hill, just a smidge north of the biggest cemetary, and parked in a dirt parking lot and jumped out.  I touched the ground, and it was indeed hot… it was also 95 degrees outside in full sunshine.  I laughed.  Another car pulled up, filled with European tourists and they asked where the smoke was.  We shrugged.

 

So we kicked with the European dudes, who were quite funny and strangely enough, kindred spirits since they were also in this eery abandoned ghost town with us.  One guy lit a cigarette and said in his accent, “Look, I found the smoke!”  We climbed to the top of the dirt rubbish hill, which appear to be more of a teenage party trash heap more than anything.  No smoke.  I took to being more amused by the 100 year old Ukrainian Orthodox church across the valley on the hill (old churches are another amusement to me, I love them!) than anything else.

European dudes found a guy and a girl that were also wandering around, and that guy pointed us in the direction of the abandoned stretch of PA 61 that had cracked and buckled from the fire (the highway re-routes around that section now).  Matt and I grabbed the mountain bikes, thinking that we might as well bike in the apparently bike-friendly (aka no cars, nor people) town of Centralia while we could, and took off to the abandoned highway.

This is when I felt the most eery.  4 lane divided highway.  No cars.  Nothing.  It was almost like a zombie movie about to go very bad.  But hey, I figure I can out pedal zombies on my bike, so we were all good!  The highway is filled with graffiti… some good, some bad, some just stupid.  A lot of names, dates, and male genitalia.  Now, I can’t say what possesses people to draw male genitalia on everything, but so be it.  There was also a nice picture of a unicorn pooping cupcakes.  Some messages to the government, and of course racial crap.

About halfway down the road is the “speed bump.”  AKA “oh crap, it looks like a super earthquake volcano happened here!”  Cracked and heaved was the road, about 5 feet wide at it’s widest and a couple feet down.  Still no smoke, but definitely the coolest thing we had seen in Centralia all day.

 

Matt and I continued down to the end of the abandoned stretch.  Tourists on a Harley rode past us.  (The only thing barricading this road off is a dirt mound with an opening wide enough for motorcycles and bicycles and maybe a wheelchair.  Due to steep grades, wheelchair not advised.)  The European dudes made their way down, also commenting on the very large amounts of, ahem, male genitalia painted on the road.  Sheesh, at least I’m not the only one who noticed!  We also ran into a guy taking film footage with an 8mm camera, definitely cool and made me sad that I didn’t have my Holga or vintage Lubital along for the adventure.  We made our way back up (seriously, by bike is the way to do this!), and Matt took off through the woods (“please let there not be sinkholes!” rang out in my mind) while I hopped on the random pieces of sidewalk that were left.  Upon getting back to the car, two elderly women pulled up and asked us what happened to the church.  Not sure if they missed the Wyoming plates, but we kindly told them we had no idea.  Such a random mix of people coming to see Centralia, that’s for sure!

Part of me wanted to scour the cemeteries for long lost relatives (a lot of my family had connections to PA coal mining and the state in general), but Matt wasn’t up for that so we said Auf Wiedersehen to our European friends (who I think narrowed down to being Swiss or Austrian due to a funny version of German I swore I was recognizing) and continued our trip south.

So, check Centralia off the bucket list.  Not quite what we were expecting (no smoke!!!), but still worth the side trip, especially the highway portion!  I think the town would be awesome to visit on a foggy, winter day!  Then maybe I could tell if the ground was really warm, eh?

Matt and I had reserved 3 days of travel time to make it to Allentown, PA for MTB Nationals , so the grand plan was to stop along the way and find places to bike that were close to I-80.  Simple enough, I did some research, got some opinions of locals, and put a plan into place.  We said our goodbyes to Cheyenne at 10pm on July 13th, and headed Mr. Fozzy east into the great abyss that is Nebraska.

Driving all day Sunday was done for one goal – getting to our first destination in Iowa!

Trail #1 – Sugar Bottom Trail System – North Liberty, IA

Iowa, I must apologize.  I cracked so many jokes about “I can’t wait to see a hill in Iowa” and had just general doubt about how the trails would be.  Sugar Bottom changed all of that for me!  This system was started in 1990, and consists of singletrack that winds through dense forests and pine groves along a reservoir.  All the trails (aside from the central fire road) are directional, which is definitely helpful considering all the blind corners and lack of visibility you’ll have while riding them.  There are north and south trail systems, all connected to the central fire road.  Each trail intersection is marked, and in fact I really don’t think a person needs a map!  Matt and I started at one end, and just kept going and going until we worked our way completely around.  I love systems that are so well marked maps are not needed!

Link to trail system map:  http://www.icorrmtb.org/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/SugarBottom_r6_Basic.pdf

Both the north and south systems have a main “beginner” loop, and off of these spur harder intermediate/expert loops that loop back close to where they started on the main loop.  This makes it very easy to pick and choose trails and the length you desire to ride!  Matt and I tried to jump off on all the spurs we could find.  This is where we did enjoy a chuckle, as an “expert” marked trail in Iowa doesn’t really equate to what we would call an expert trail here in southeastern Wyoming.  The expert trails maybe would have a bit of roots or tricky switchbacks, or perhaps a foot drop, but nothing too extreme that someone with some time on their MTB couldn’t ride.  The funnest expert trail we found was “Cyclocross Hill,” which is a bit swoopy downhill over a bridge and then straight up this insanely steep hill.  I attempted it but chickened out at the bottom of the hill when I saw how really steep it was.  Matt made it to the top like the rockstar he is.  Next time, Iowa, next time!

This was just the trail system to begin my acclimation to horrible humidity, rooty terrain, and lack of elevation.  The humid weather left me drenched not too soon from jumping on the bike, but I noticed how happy my lungs felt.  And due to the relatively low elevation (I consider anything lower than 3000 feet “sea level” so take my elevation comments how you please), I felt like I could just go for days and days.  The tight switchbacks, especially on climbs, helped me develop some of those skills.

Overall we did 10.5 miles, which included over 1,100 feet of climbing.  Iowa, you did well in the elevation gain department!  Another perk to the trail system is that we only ran into 3 other people the whole time (and 3 people hiking the wrong way on the trail…), so you can get nice and spread out from other people!

We called it a day in the Davenport area, got a hotel, enjoyed a nice shower to wash the sweat and dirt off, and had a burger at Steak n Shake.

Trail #2 – Illiniwek Forest Preserve – Hampton, IL

Next up on the list was Illiniwek Forest Preserve, which is along the bluffs over the Mississippi River on the Illinois side.  This was actually the first trail system that I had decided on when planning the trip.  It is maybe only an hour or so from Sugar Bottom, but since we stayed overnight we decided this would start our morning off before hitting the road again.

Once again, these were singletrack-ish (might be a little wider than typical singletrack) trails through dense woods that climb and descend a bluff.  Some roots, but otherwise smooth sailing.  Heck, we saw a 5 year old tearing up these trails.  Kid friendly!  Not a lot of miles unless you do multiple laps, but enough for a quick and very satisfying ride!

Once again, this trail system is split into north and south loops.  The north loop as an overlook you can go to for the Mississippi River.  “They” say that the north loop has more climbing, but both loops seemed comparable to me.  It was definitely fun coming down with banked corners!  These trails are not directional, however, so don’t ride like too much of an asshat.

Link to trail map:  http://www.qcforc.org/trails/ifp/IFPTrailMap.pdf

We did encounter a freshly downed tree on the south loop system, so we had to take a little re-route.  No biggie, and I guess it was fresh since the day before according to someone I had run into who inquired why a Wyoming care was in the parking lot 😀  This guy comes out to Colorado and rides, so I recommended Curt Gowdy, and explained why we were where we were.  Always nice to run into some fellow mountain bikers!

There is signage at some intersections, but there are not maps at every intersection.  We didn’t get lost, and just took loops to see where we’d end back up.  It was pretty easy to know how to find the car… go down!

All in all we did 5.7 miles for 344 feet of climbing.  It is definitely easy on the climbs, nothing too insanely steep and all the switchbacks are more than doable.

Added bonus is that you’re on the Mississippi River, so we popped down to the riverbank with our bikes for an extra 2 miles to explore.

We cleaned up the best we could (thank goodness for baby wipes!) and jumped in the car for the journey across Illinois, Indiana, and half of Ohio.  I initially was hoping we could make Royalview in Ohio for some riding, but I underestimated drive time so we settled into what is one of the nicest La Quinta Inns ever in Macedonia, OH and called it a night – only after a good meal at Bob Evans!  We need those restaurants in Wyoming, I swear!

Trail #3 – West Branch State Park – Ravenna, OH

Another quick drive from the hotel for another morning of mountain biking, this time at West Branch State Park in Ohio.  Oh man… I don’t even know where to begin.  Let’s just say at least this trail made Bear Creek Resort in PA (the Nationals venue) look like a walk in the park.  And it taught me all about nasty muddy wet trail systems with nasty wet roots and nasty mossy slick rocks.  I’m pretty sure I shed tears riding these damn trails.

Trail map link: http://www.camba.us/pn/downloads/New%20West%20Branch%20Map.pdf

A common theme, once again there’s north and south trails all connected by a central road, Cable Line.  We chose the southern trails along the reservoir first, as I heard they were milder.  Immediately I took my glasses off because they kept fogging up due to the humidity.  We slipped and slided along the trail, until we reached a flooded part.  Uber flooded, like “no you won’t go pass Go” flooded.  Matt happily tramped through the woods and found the road.  Me on the other hand… I have a huge irrational fear of bugs, spiders, worms, nasty stuff.  Humid east coast woods = nasty stuff.  I swear it took him 5 minutes to convince me to walk through the woods.  I dashed through, trying not to think of all the creepy crawly things that could get on me.

Then we jumped on the Gorge Trail on the north side.  There is a slate bottom creek we had read about, and we wanted to find it.  I think I for sure invented new curse words riding the rock gardens.  Everything was just so wet and icky.

The slate bottom creek made the horrible trail worth it!  Clear, cool flowing water, all over slate that you can easily ride a bike up and down (not very slippery at all!).

The bad about this trail system:  lack of signage.  Bring a trail map.  And don’t listen to me when I say what direction the lake is in.  Ugh.  I suppose you could say we were lost.  But we did make it back to the car.  Not all was lost!  We did 6.3 miles and 584 feet of climbing.  Do I ever want to ride here again?  No.

Got back to the car, discovered there’s no running water around the trailhead (a plus for Sugar Bottom), so I took SmartWater and used it to wash my body off.  There’s only so much SmartWater and baby wipes can do, but I tried.  We laughed at the fact our bike clothing and shoes were smelling something horrid after 3 days of use in humid/stinky climates.  I get so spoiled by the ultra dryness of the West…

Eastward we turned for the final 5 hours of our trip.  We passed the USA Cycling truck, which was nice surprise.  Final stop before our glorious Red Roof Inn in Allentown would be the modern day ghost town of Centralia, PA.  I’ll try to remind myself to make a whole post about our Centralia adventures!

We definitely enjoyed our little biking adventures on the trip out, and it was fun to see what different parts of the country have to offer for mountain biking!  The trip home we did straight through, so we didn’t have the time to stop along I-70… another day!

Oh man, where do I begin?!  After three days of making our way across the country (exploits to be discussed in a different blog post, hopefully!), we settled into our hotel in Allentown, PA – final destination on this whole “hey, let’s go to nationals!” idea that I’ve had since last October.

Wednesday was a large practice window, and packet pickup.  As always, I made sure we were there an hour before we could do anything, so we sat around the air conditioned lodge.  USAC races are a weird atmosphere in my mind.  Uber serious bidness, always.  I start seeing people whose blogs I read, or race results I know, and it kinda creeps me out.  Also weirds out Matt when I’m like “oh, that’s so and so.  They’ve won a world cup.  No, I’m not a stalker, I just read lots of stuff!”  I fretted about how my hairstyle matched all the Whole Athlete girls’… you know, all the important stuff I should be worried about before I race a big race on the east coast against people I’ve never seen before in life.  In fact, I do believe I was starting to have feelings of apathy towards the race.  Like I had thrown my hands in the air and decided that whatever happens, happens.  There was 6 girls in my class, and I had resolved that I had to at least get 5th to make the drive worth it.

Seriously, free pasta dinner.  I KNEW there was a reason I came!  Packets picked up, licenses confirmed (they really check that stuff at Nationals… beats CO road races where they don’t even check my category), we stuff our goodies back in the car and hit the course.  Humidity 1, Heidi 0.  I almost passed out on a climb.  I felt horrible.  And other racers were rude.  A girl blamed me, when I was off the trail, as the reason she couldn’t make a technical climb.  Another took to just yelling “EXCUSE ME!” instead of a nice “Hey, yo, can I pass you?” like I’m use to.  Couldn’t decide if it was the USAC atmosphere or just East Coast personalities.  I was saddened.  I realized I’m too nice of a person, apparently.  Then I remembered all the times adrenaline-raging male racers did stupid stuff around me in Wyoming and Colorado and decided it sucks everywhere.  Haha.

The course is… well… to Laramie locals, a combination of Haunted Forest (with it’s wetness, mud, bugs, roots, and rocks) and Headquarters (rock gardens) on hardcore crack.  HARDCORE CRACK.  If there is such a thing.  Rock gardens, yeah… I have ridden those.  Bear Creek Resort?  They make Gowdy seem completely tame.  Literally 5+ miles of a constant rock garden after the crest of the course on top of the ski hill.  There is no rest, flowy section.  Hell, even the wide gravel road portion of the start/finish was loose and rocky.  I learned where to walk when I wanted to preserve life and limb.  I learned that pegging it and just going was key to preserving life and limb.  And hell, screw the mud, just barrel right through it.  I wasn’t going to come out sparkling clean at the end, so play in the mud, why not?

We did one lap of the 6.5 mile course.  We originally – before we saw the course – wanted to do two on practice day.  But my body was done.  I had drained my 2 liter Camelbak during the lap and just felt crappy.  I asked Matt if he wanted to do a pro lap, which was shorter, and apparently 100% tamer, but he declined.  It was over 90 degrees with whatever horrible % of humidity, and I just wanted to shower and get out of my nasty, wet kit.  So back to Allentown we went to clean up, hit up Target, and head back for the pasta dinner.

I really should’ve taken a photo of my plate of pasta.  I’m sure I had a few pounds on there!  We joined a couple from Washington who brought their 15 year old daughter out to race.  The mom thought my pasta plate was Matt’s.  I proceeded to lick my plate clean as we chatted with them about various things.  A race organizer/timer person joined us and we learned how pissed off everyone is that USAC dropped qualifying for Cat 2 and 3 racers.  I agree, as we drove to Fruita to race in a blizzard to qualify, to find out a week later qualifying was dropped… We were also convinced to race with Camelbaks (well, I was… Matt had already decided he would) since the course would probably rattle a bottle out of the cage, not to mention there’s no smooth areas to drink.

Back at the hotel I took to fretting about where I would place.  I realized the 6th girl bumped to Cat 2, so we were left with 5 in my category.  Awesome, we’ll all medal!  But I didn’t want last place, so I compared my Strava segment times to course times at the Bear Creek Challenge (PA State Champs back in June).  I would’ve been 2nd by over 20 minutes.  OK… OK… OK… I got this I started thinking.  I fell asleep rather easy and awoke to my alarm at 5:45am.

Time to get the show on the road.

Not wanting a repeat of the passing out/wanting to vomit thing, I decided on a lighter breakfast of a glazed doughnut and fruit from Wawa, with some juice and then lots of water.  I’m pretty sure I had consumed a few liters of water even before the race started just to stay on top of the humidity.  My right knee has been giving me grief for a few weeks, so I didn’t want to do a huge warm up, and not to mention I didn’t want to be sitting in a completely wet kit before the race even started.  So we did the starting climb, where I pedaled at a horribly slow pace, not realizing Kate Courtney was behind me (my hair twin!  LOL).  She wished us well when I finally pulled over, and we cut under banner tape to get off the course and ride down, behind the lodge.  I told Matt he could warm up more, but soon staging was starting.  Matt’s group was first to go, and they had to sit at the starting line for a good 10-15 minutes.  Talk about nerve wracking!

Finally Matt was off and I rode over to the staging area.  I felt so awkward, as most people knew each other and I was just like “oh hayyy, I’m the random girl from Wyoming!”  I picked out the PA State Champ who I had assigned a big target to.  I just wanted to beat her.  Nothing personal, she was just my random “You’re going down!” choice of the day!  I started chatting with Dana and Kim, and we all agreed that we just wanted to survive the course with our bodies intact.

There were two minutes windows into each class, so it took awhile before we were called to the line.  The announcer said all of our names and we waited for the whistle.

WHISTLE.

And we were off on the loose gravel road.  Not wanting to be in the back to the single track, Amy, Alyssa, and I charged forward.  I was third onto the single track climb, where I then rode off the damn trail into the bushes.  Like a noob, totally.  I jumped off and ran my bike up as Amy and Alyssa pedaled off into the sunset.  Giving myself a big ol’ cursing I jumped back on and pedaled to try to distance myself from Kim and Dana.  I couldn’t see the other two girls, so I almost right then settled on “OK, 3rd place isn’t so bad, just survive the race.”  Kind of sad I had the resolution so quickly, but like I said, I was almost apathetic towards this race.  You build yourself up for months and months and months for a result, and yet I really did so little for training and what not to get any results.  Over ten races in for the season, and I was feeling rather fried both mentally and physically.

And yet, there it happened.  I caught Alyssa.  And the Walker, Texas Ranger theme song popped into my head.  I had a mission now.  “The eye of the ranger is upon you, anything you do she’s gonna see…”  Frantic “get away from this girl mode” clicked on in my head.  Her and I yo-yo’d for a bit, but finally I get ahead and stayed there on some techy bits.  I’m not sure if she was having bike or body problems, but I wasn’t sticking around to find out.  Soon she was out of sight, and I was slowly picking off the 15-18 and 20-29 age group girls.

My body was feeling good, though I was sweating up a storm fast.  The first third of the course is the easiest, with some rocks and roots, but still fairly easy and also has wide gravel road climbs.  I knew my advantage would hopefully come here, though I didn’t really push that hard.  I granny geared all the climbs, preserving energy.  I was smiling, happy that I was sitting in 2nd and having a good race.  A spectator yelled to me that there is no smiling in a race, and that I needed to try harder.  Next time I saw him I did a dramatic frown, LOL.  A first aid guy told me I had 200 yards to the top of the hill, so I dug deep up the steep climb and crested over the top with my heart redlined.  I briefly saw Amy descending in the trees.  That would be the last time I would see her.

So begun the miles and miles and miles and more miles of rock gardens.  At the first descent they actually had three first aid people lining the rock garden, which is always a bit weird to see.  One guy actually said “holy crap, you’re going to ride this?” as I flew over the rocks.  I wanted to say something along the lines of “uhhh, this is cake compared to what comes!!” but I had to concentrate.  My damn glasses kept fogging up with the humidity so I kept having to slide them down my nose so air could circulate around them.  I tried to remind myself to keep drinking as well.

Funny thing is the course was going by a lot faster than practice.  Then again, I was riding a lot faster!  As my body and bike took a beating, I sailed over rocks and roots, trying to carefully pick lines and in other times just monster trucking over things.  Yay for 29ers!

Every once and in awhile I had to come off the bike, whether it was for rider error or just getting caught up in something.  I thought I could fly through the 20 foot wide root/mud pit, but got hung up half way so I gave my feet a good coating on black, sticky mud.  There’s one elevation bridge thing that I can’t bring myself to ride for some reason that I just ran.  Finally shoved my glasses in my back pocket.  I hammered where I could, took it easy where I couldn’t.  Before I knew it I was to the techy rock drops, which I walked, while joking with some lady spectators that today wasn’t a good day to break my neck.  (Who jokes about that?  Yeesh I’m strange.)  Saw a photographer and since I was smiling he asked if I was having a good time.  “I’m having a blast!” I cheerfully called out.  And even sooner I was to the descending rocky switchbacks that I knew I was going to walk for my safety.  And wouldn’t you know, that is where the heckle pit for Cat 3 was.

I casually said, “What a nice day for a walk in the woods with my bike!”  to which the hecklers responded “Hey, we have a novel idea!”

Me – “yeah, what is it?”
Heckler – “Get on your bike and ride it!”
Me – “Nah, you see I have this novel idea called protecting life and limb, you should try it!”
Another heckler – “Whoa you have lightning bolts on your socks!”
Me – “Hell yeah, they’re magic socks.  Magic powers and stuff!”
Different heckler – “Flash Gordon would be so disappointed in you.  You’re suppose to be riding your bike when were lightning socks.  Poser!”

By then I had rounded the switchback and tried to ride.  “Hey look, I’m riding my bike!”  BONK.  Front tire caught a big rock causing me to nearly endo.

Heckler – “Get back on your damn bike, we see you cheating!”

I love hecklers!!!  It was a lot of fun!

By this point, I was getting tired and my bike handling skills were all over the place.  From the summit down I was having chills and goosebumps, which is a not so lovely sign of not so nice things.  I found myself unable to ride straight lines when needed, and unable to turn switchbacks (there I would ride straight lines).  I knew it was just surviving at this point.  Amy was long gone off the front, and my closest competitor was long off my rear.  About a quarter mile to the finish I had my only run in with gravity when I bobbled over in a rock garden, slamming down on a rock and then sliding down it.  Kinda stuck in my bike, I finally unclipped and got up and carried on.  I didn’t waste any time seeing if the bike or I was alright, as I knew I was so close to the finish.

Out of the woods, and by the lake.  The humidity was stifling.  Right before the gravel climb up to the finish line they had the snowmakers turned on, raining cool water down on us racers.  I seriously thought of just stopping and sitting there for awhile, but alas I carried on, putting forth a decent sprint effort towards the finish.

1 hour 14 minutes 15 seconds for 2nd place in Cat 3 30-39 women!

WOOHOOO!

Amy beat me by a good 11-12 minutes.  What a beast!  I had 7 minutes on the 3rd place finisher, Kim.  Dana followed in for 4th.  None of us know what happened to Alyssa, who DNF’d.

I didn’t see Matt anywhere, but I have to admit I was so out of it and shivering so bad in the 90 degree heat that I took to the shade and just collapsed.  That’s there I took the first photo of this post.  I was covered in yucky mud, blood was running down my right thigh, bugs were congregating on me like I was a delicious, I was soaked head to toe in sweat, and I just wanted to sit.  Matt eventually wandered over, both knees bandaged up and ice on his right elbow and a hole ripped into the front of his kit.  He held up two fingers signalling that he finished second.  I did the same.  Then he told me he broke his arm.  Whoops.

We hung around for a few hours, then drove back to Allentown for showers and X-rays at urgent care.  Grabbed a quick lunch at Panera Bread, and headed back to the awards ceremony.

Tons of photographers on the course, but no photos to be found, at least not yet.

What I learned:  I have better technical skills than I believe I do.  Now that I’ve survived Bear Creek I am super eager to go up to Gowdy and ride.  I think I might be surprised!  Humidity sucks, but it didn’t debilitate me like some people said it would.  It actually kept my lungs quite happy.  Heat stroke is no bueno, as shivering in 90 degree weather is not normal.  Thank goodness I didn’t run my Fast Track tires.  I’m not sold on tubeless – way too many people with tubeless tires flatted out of the races all weekend.  Climbing at sea level rocks.  Only wear lightning bolt socks if it’ll make Flash Gordon proud.  Have fun and smile – it was a Cat 3 race, not the Olympics!  Fly next year if we go, the drive sucks.

I’m now a big girl Cat 2 racer.  And now I think I actually have to train…

I kinda make fun of triathletes a lot.  Granted, I think the whole world does.  They’re a special breed.  So when I got a TT bike, some of my cyclist friends make tri jokes.  When I started running I was told it was fitting since I owned a TT bike.  I still swore I’d never do a tri.  Then Kim and I went swimming and I discovered I can swim okay enough, so I registered for a tri.  And so I’m here today…  My line of thinking fell kind of into “well, I might as well do a triathlon since I do all sorts of crazy things I never thought I’d do, and at least I can hopefully kick ass on the bike, and its held a few blocks from my house.”

I entered the Cheyenne Sprint Triathlon, which has a pool option.  See, I would never do a tri without a pool option because I have a huge fear of water so open water swims are out for me, and my microbiology degree tells me lakes are yucky anyways (not that pools aren’t, but there shouldn’t be as much nasty stuff in them in theory).  I arrived promptly at 6:30am, quite enjoying the fact it was less than a 5 minute drive from my house after a summer of driving hours, and sometimes to other states, for races.  I was kinda lost, as the whole pre-race procedure is very different than my normal mountain or road races.  I wandered over to pick up my chip but they weren’t ready so I took to preparing my transition area.  Not like I had any idea what I was doing, but I spread down my T-rex dinosaur beach towel, and placed my aero helmet the incorrect way on my bike.  I folded and refolded my bike shorts on top of my road shoes.  I gave up on trying to make my water bottle stay upright.  Wandered back over for my timing chip.

Finally some of my teammates started showing up.  I knew them (I write the team blog/race results), but they didn’t know me which is always awkward.  At least it gave me some conversation.  Amy finally wandered in and I tried to convince her to set up her transition area next to mine, which didn’t work, but then I recruited Bob.  Who also didn’t know me.  But we remedied that with some conversation about the LMBS!  I asked Amy if I was expected to run from the pool to the transition area (quite a ways away… almost like a secondary run leg if you ask me) barefoot.  haha, such a noob.  I was realizing that I am far too much of a cyclist to be in an episode of “Shit triathletes say”

Soon enough us pool swimmers were wandering over to the Municipal Pool to get our swim on.  I was super nervous about having to swim with 4 other people in my lane.  They asked us to group ourselves by similar times.  These guys went “we’re slow, we swim 9’s.”  Well, my 400m estimated time is 12-13 minutes so I avoided those guys.  Luckily I found a group of 3 men with similar times to me so we teamed up for the Slow Lane of Awesomeness.  They sent us off semi-time trial style, every 5 seconds in the lane.  I was third to go, but soon was touching the feet of the guy in front of me.  I knew I didn’t have the energy to pass so I just stayed there behind him hoping a foot wouldn’t meet my face.  About 4 laps in or so I tossed my goggles off as they were all fogged up.  I refuse to put my face in water, so it worked out.  Yes, I do have a very turtle like atrocious swim technique, but hey, it gets me through 400m so whatever!  The last 100m were killer and I could feel my pace dropping horrible.  I was very happy when I could finally get out of the pool and onto my favorite thing ever – a bicycle!

Running the half marathon (ok, it wasn’t that far, just felt like it) to the transition area I felt so wonky and floaty.  I didn’t run fast, but fast enough to get me there quickly.  My poor tender feet were like “Why are we running barefoot?!   Didn’t parasitology class teach you anything about grass in city parks?!” Haha.  During the transition I learned that bike shorts are super hard to put on when you’re wet.  And a standard bike chamois does an incredible job at wicking all the water up from your swimsuit… but I did indeed get them on, along with socks and shoes (BOA dials are hard to turn with wrinkly fingers, for future reference), helmet, and sunglasses.  I started my Garmin 510, even though I had my FR910XT on as well.  I doused myself with some lemon water, as more went on me than in my mouth and I was off!  Of course this was the time I struggled with clipping in and I was an idiot and tried to get on my bike from the right side, which I can’t really do as I always mount from the left side.  Lessons learned.

I was so happy to be on the bike and in my element.  The  Cheyenne Police Dept. and race volunteers did an amazing job controlling traffic, so I ultra enjoyed blowing stop signs and stop lights on the course.  I started picking off other people immediately on Central Avenue, which added to my happiness.  I’m never strong on the road, so it was nice for once being the one dropping others!  Everything was going great, and I was heading towards the first big climb, which is up Bishop Blvd. to the Vandehei roundabout.  I tried shifting into my big ring granny gear and the bike made a horrible clatter and it wouldn’t shift.  I tried again, same results.  Not willing to get off and see what was wrong, I grunted and mashed out the climb.  Apparently something is messed up with my bike, which left me with about 3-5 hard big ring gears to work with on the hilly course.  And I couldn’t go into the small chainring as my front derailleur will not shift back into the big ring.  The whole race I had a terrible rattling coming from the rear end of my bike and all I could do was hope everything stayed in one piece until the end.

And that it did!  The course flew by, and so did the hills.  I continued picking off other racers and soon knew I was in the front of the pack (though it didn’t mean much since it is a time trial type of thing).  The volunteers were amazing and cheered as everyone went by, which was great motivation.  A lady yelled out that she loved my bike, too!  The turn around was at Little Bear Inn, and I was able to pick up speed for the climb back super well.  The wind was pretty nonexistent, an added pleasure.  I dropped down Bishop Blvd off the roundabout at 40mph, which I realized was 10mph over the posted speed limit and probably explained why I almost had to pass a car – making me realize that I am way more comfortable with speed on a road bike than I ever will be on a mountain bike!

Coming down Central a volunteer told me I was in 6th place, woohoo!  I cruised back to the park and into the transition area.  This transition went a lot faster, as all I had to do was change shoes and take my helmet off.  Then off to the run… the horrible, miserable run.  I managed a strong first quarter mile and then started to quickly die.  I would say I probably did about half walk, half run.  My right knee was screaming in pain and I had a side ache.  It was hard not to feel miserable, though I was still giddy about how well the bike portion went.  My average speed was a little over 19mph for the 13.3mile course!

3.1 miles of torture later and I saw the finish line and heard the announcer calling my name.  I put in a decent sprint effort and sat my butt down as soon as I could after the finish line.  Whew, I finish a triathlon!

My official overall time was 1:33:29.8.  Which…drumroll… was 2nd place in my age category!  YAY!   I finished 14th overall in the pool swim category… not too shabby for winging a triathlon with no training, eh?

Unfortunately I had to impatiently wait until later in the evening to see all the splits (which I guess wasn’t too bad, I crashed out for a few hours on the couch anyway!).  I really wanted to see my bike time and compare it against all the others.  It was worth the wait!  I had the fastest bike time of any pool participant – male or female!!  To boot, I had the 5th fastest female bike time of the day.  Sometimes being a cyclist pays off 😀  The bike portion is what saved my butt, in all honesty.  My bike time was 11 minutes faster than the 3rd place finisher of my category who had way faster swim and run times, to show much it helped out.  And hey, it felt good to finally kick some ass on skinny tires!

I really doubt I’ll be doing any more triathlons in the near future, however.  First off, I need pool swims.  Second off, as much as I had fun it’s still really not my “thing.”  The bike portion was the only super enjoyable part, and I can look to time trials to accomplish the same thing.  I’m super proud of myself for registering and finishing a tri!  Maybe next year for the same event… 😉

Sorry for the never ending lack of updating… I’ve had a lot of blog ideas in mind, half written during my bike rides in my mind, only to never be written on the computer.  Which is sad, because I’ve gone on some pretty cool adventures, like Matt and I biking up Highway 130 to the Snowies!  And of course, I completely (purposely) did not do a race report (gasp!) on my LMBS Race #2, because it was spectacularly crappy from the start thanks to handlebar locking with two girls at the get go which caused me to never be part of the lead pack, and me blowing up chasing said lead pack after I unlocked myself from the gals at the start (I finished 7th out of like 22, ok ok, I know, it wasn’t that bad).

So here’s to make up for all my laziness!  Matt and I have been talking about riding this trail since last summer, and the idea popped into my head as we were debating riding up Mt. Evans yesterday for our day off together.  We both decided we didn’t feel like the long drive to Colorado, so I suggested the Medicine Bow Rail Trail instead, which is roughly 30-40 miles west of Laramie.

One of our first ever huge bike rides (for me at least) was on another rails-to-trail in South Dakota – the Mickelson Trail.  So we were excited to explore a similar trail in our own backyards!  What’s even neater is that as a kid I rode on the Excursion Train from Laramie to Fox Park, so who would’ve thought that many many years later I’d be biking it, right?  Always neat when your past crosses paths with your present 🙂

We arrived at the Dry Park Trailhead about 11am.  This trailhead is the only one on the trail system that doesn’t require a parking fee, but it is also the only one that is not marked, has no bathrooms, and honestly does not look like a trailhead.  It’s more of a large dirt parking lot off the side of the road.  I briefly drove past it, only to see the start of the trail to my left, so I put it in reverse!  This is the northernmost trailhead, and is 21 miles (though not exactly, it’s more like 22.5 miles due to the detour around Fox Park) from the southern end at Pelton Creek.  We changed into our cycling clothes and hit the trail.

Initially, we were not impressed or amused.  Sand greeted us.  Lovely lovely lovely sand.  We pedaled along at 7 miles per hour, and Matt and I agreed that if it stayed like this there was no way we would ride the whole trail.  Spoiled we were by Mickelson and it’s glorious hardpack gravel.  We chugged on through the sand and two miles later arrived at Lake Owen, where thankfully the trail turned to fast-rolling packed gravel.  YAY!!  At Lake Owen there were signs about the trail and also a caboose.  It’s clear that this is the more established northern trailhead, almost like Dry Park was an afterthought.

Without stopping we pedaled on.  There really was a complete lack of stopping and photo taking on this.  This was very much a “keep pedaling towards your goal” kind of trip.  Not to say the scenery is not gorgeous as you wind through the Medicine Bow National Forest!  The trail itself ranged from smooth packed gravel to softer areas nearly obscured completely by grass and wildflowers.  There are numerous ATV trail crosses with yield signs, and also the trail crosses Highway 230 one time.  Several gates are along the way as well to open and close.  Cows are here and there, and their poop is even more present.

The trail takes a detour when you reach Fox Park due to property rights disagreements.  I managed to get Matt and I lost during this time.  The map they provide is upside down from how you’d really want to read it (to me), and there’s a lack of signs when heading in the southern direction.  I took us in the completely opposite direction on FSR 512.  Luckily my little detour from the detour only added about 3 miles total, haha.  Soon we were back on the trail and cruising along.

For it being a Sunday/weekend, there was a refreshing lack of humans on the trail.  South of the Woods Creek Trailhead we encountered two equestrians, who we politely yielded to so they could pass.  And… well, that was all on the southern trip.  At Pelton Creek we gobbled down a McDonald’s apple pie each, and some Honey Stinger chews as the clouds spat rain drops on us.  Our nutrition on long rides is fantastically terrible, clearly.  I groaned when I had to get back on the bike, as my right knee ached (for the first time in months sadly) and I was tired.  Considering we were in BFE with no cell service, clearly the only choice was to get back on the bike and pedal for another 22.5 miles.  And that we did.

The return trip seemed to go by a lot faster, though it involved a lot of climbing from Pelton Creek.  That is one thing about rails to trails is the fact the climbs and descents are so gradual they’re really tricky in distinguishing sometimes!  (Unless you’re doing Mickelson… oh, I can tell the climbs beween Mystic and Hill City just fineeeee.)  We encountered our second group of humans just south of Fox Park, on ATVs no less… which are not allowed on the trail.  Ugh.  I made sure to hold my line, and they politely gave a wave and wide passing berth.  But still.  Ugh.

Matt and I got into a rhythm of just turning the pedals as the clouds turned darker.  Luckily we were never heavily rained on, considering the storm that pounded Laramie later rolled right over us.  The last two miles of sandy nastiness was made slightly better by the fact we were rolling down hill this time, but it still made us keep a tight grip on the handlebars as we wrangled our bikes through it.  All said and done it was a 47 mile round trip, and took 4 hours 31 minutes (including stop/rest time).  My Strava/Garmin showed I averaged 11.6 mph, which isn’t too shabby!

We enjoyed our little outing, and getting time in the saddle in a lame sense for Laramie Enduro training.  It was nice to mark something off the bucket list of places to ride, as well!  But mostly it just made Matt and I really eager to return to South Dakota for another go at the Mickelson Trail, which still remains our favorite.  Medicine Bow Rail Trail is good for that “OMG we’re in the wildness” feeling and feeling like you’re “roughing” it a bit more.

My Medicine Bow Rail Trail tips:

• Bring all the water you’ll need as there’s no place to refill along the trail except at Lake Owen, which may or may not have the water turned on.
• No road bikes.  This should be a given, but just in case someone wonders… cyclocross bike is doable I’d say, though there are some rough spots here in there, forging through grass, fallen trees which lead to either off roading it a bit or bunny hopping, and the roads in Fox Park in the detour are washboard.  I rode my full suspension Specialized Epic mountain bike.  I liked the squish, and don’t foresee a cyclocross bike excursion on this particular trail in my future.
• Bug spray and sunscreen.  Neither of which Matt nor I thought of using.
• Along the lines of the water, bring all the food you’ll need.  Plan ahead.  You’re really in BFE unless you jump on the highway to WyColo or bang on a cabin door.
• Start early to avoid the summer storms.  We lucked out and didn’t really run into much, however we did have jackets packed just in case.

Oh, and wildlife seen?  A single fox.  At least there were no scary moose encounters!  Or angry cows… these cows were totally terrified of me, for once.

I took today as a rest day as I was completely wiped out from the ride.  We ate at Texas Roadhouse for dinner and I completely annihilated Tater Skins, 4 or 5 of their rolls, 8 ounce steak, green beans, and mashed potatoes.  First time I’ve left without leftovers in a long time!  I was in bed asleep by 8pm… Today my legs were still a bit tired, sit bones still a bit sensitive so no bike.  I rode 100.3 miles last week, which was my second highest mileage week ever, and my body is telling me so!