On the morning of September 1st, 2020, I woke to my alarm in my cozy bed in a dark hotel room in Jamestown, NY. The alarm was most unwelcome as it growled and buzzed at me at 3:45AM, long before sunrise.
I rolled out of bed quietly so as not to awaken my wife. My gear was all packed and waiting by the door, except the bike clothes and some sustenance - the ignominious Cliff Bar that was to serve as my breakfast and power my muscles through the first part of a long journey by bike. What exactly is "Long", in my book? Well, this particular day was yet another one of my attempts at breaking the 200-mile "barrier". Is there an actual barrier, like a physical thing, beyond which a biker must not proceed? Nope, not really, but for me, this has been a goal for some years now. I have tried multiple times to break this distance, with the constraint that I want to do it in a singe day. Crazy? Yep. I am not afraid to set unrealistic goals and try my best to beat a goal. I'll explain more at the tail end of this post, but before I go all philosophical on you, let me explain the plan for this day. If you really want to skip the play-by-play, skip to the last few paragraphs to better understand my motivation.
The ride was to consist of a dip due south of Jamestown, NY into Pennsylvania and through the Allegheny National Forest, then along the northern border of PA and back north into New York State, headed through the hills most of the way, and eventually arriving back in my hometown at about 191 miles, then a quick cycle through two laps of my "block" (a 4.5 mile loop on country roads). Plan: break 200 in a day! Plan: somehow find most of the difficult hills along the way, while we're at it. Why not? Hills are fun ... they build character, right?
As you can see from the map above, this was a pretty hilly part of the States I went through. A total altitude gain (i.e. "climbing") of 10,016 feet for the day. I had planned a bit more hills for the day, but once I got into the route, I became more enamored with the act of finishing the 200 and finding my bed on the other end than I was with the act of climb yet another hill along the way. Slight changes were to occur in my course as I went long, with the above map being the actual route, as recorded by my bike computer.
As I rolled down Washington St in Jamestown, I crossed over the Chadakoin River and promptly found myself lost (in the dark of the morning). I use a Garmin Edge 820 bike computer to keep myself on track, but honestly, navigating in the dark, with the computer on "battery save" mode is quite an art and I didn't have it that morning! I eventually figured out that I was to take some form of access road, exiting Washington St and using a cloverleaf ramp to get to a street below and adjacent to that one. Not five minutes into my ride and already five minutes lost to the navigation. As I worked through the seedy south side of the city, I wondered if this trip would end with a mugging or anything spectacular like that. It's very different for me to do a route where I know nothing about the route, the terrain, the safety, the potholes, or any other aspects of nav. It's especially difficult when the first 40 or so miles or so are to be done in the dark on unfamiliar roads and through lots of turns and road changes. I intentionally take tracks that are off the beaten path as I really dislike having cars speeding by me with reckless disregard for my safety and life; the compromise is that I often choose very hilly and secondary or tertiary roads to ride on. Dogs, deer, potholes, twists & turns and HILLS (did I mention those already?) are all a part of my scheming little plans.
Once I found the primary route out of Jamestown I hit a few patches of rainy drizzle; nothing heavy, but I was a bit worried since the temps were in the low fifties and I don't do well with cold riding. The rain was really spotty though, so I didn't have to fight it too much. I had a long slog uphill and in the dark while I worked to clear the southern edge of Jamestown. Rollers interspersed their way into my path after that, with very little incident as I headed south. Somewhere around the PA border, I was reveling in the glorious patches of warmer temps, and the joy of the late summer sweet smells of the fields. Just before dawn, the birds begin to waken, but I wouldn't have seen the border of PA without my headlamp and the reminders from Garmin. As I came up one gentle hill, I encountered a few deer in the road and had to hiss at a raccoon to try to get the little beast out of my path without it running through my wheels. Basically smooth riding and very enjoyable!
Then it happened. I ask you: "what's worse than encountering a mean dog on a bike ride?" How about encountering two of them on a bike ride, in the dark, before dawn, with a fixed-mount light on my handlebars and no ability to shine it on my attackers? I was not able to swivel my light to see how many dogs there really were, or how big, vicious and close they were to me, but they sure had a way of getting my blood pressure up! I stood and sprinted hard, hearing their claws scraping on the asphalt behind me. While fearing that I'd feel their teeth on my legs at any moment, I pushed to my max and bit by bit, they seemed to be getting quieter behind me. I eventually cleared their danger and sat to get my heart rate back down. Man, that was a close one and I was definitely awake by this point in time.
Making my way southward through PA, I passed the sleeping village of Lander and began to see signs of other folks waking up and getting on for their day ... surprised a few pickup trucks as they whizzed by me in the dark. I headed along the valleys of "Mud Run" - Run appears to be a common term for a creek or stream in PA, but one thing I was to find out was that any time I was near a Run, there were significant hills to deal with. Eventually my route met up with a fairly significant hill, gaining me over 400 feet of hills in about a mile or so. I was headed up Creamery Road, while in the predawn dark, but I knew it was a hill as I eventually had to stand and push hard on the cranks. It was, by my reckoning, somewhere north of 20% gradient. Have I mentioned that I like my hills? I routinely train on things with this type of gradient, but not normally in the dark. A noisy, diesel dually truck blasted around me heading up the hill. By his headlights, I could see that he'd just passed a hairpin bend in the road/hill in front of me and as I saw his glow disappearing behind the trees of the hill, I also saw and heard another vehicle approaching: heading down the hill! This one sounded really big and loud too. It turned out to be a dump truck and it met me right at the hairpin. I crowded all the way to the edge of the ditch by the roadside as he came around the same bend as I. My headlamp had been set on a flash on / flash off mode in order to save batteries, so his view must have included a "what's that thing" comment along with some expletives of his choice as he narrowly missed me. I had prepared to ditch the bike (quite literally), but ended up okay on this one. More climbing and I reached the top of the hill. It was starting to get light now.
On over the top of the hill and into even deeper woods and countryside I went. I was passed from behind by a growling school bus. When he finally got around me on a downhill, he was laying on his brakes and the blinding lights of brakes, school bus flashers on top of his bus and other choice lights was a bit much for me. Sensory overload and an end to any night vision I had accumulated. At the bottom of this hill, I finally came out onto one of my anticipated nightmares for the trip: US Routes 6 and 62, with limited access as they went along the northern edge of the Allegheny River. I crossed the river on Rte 62 (not limited access), but was stopped at a temporary stop light, along with a line of other vehicles, while we awaited our turn for a section of one-lane bridge over the river. I let the vehicles behind me go first as there was no passing in the one-lane section but I found myself wondering if the temporary construction stoplights were timed, or if they somehow would "know" that there was a crazy biker still in the lane before they let the opposing traffic come over. I made it without incident. Along Rte 62, I was not happy about the lack of shoulder, the busy road and the still brewing dawn's light, but had to push through to get to my turn off. I'd planned the route to be a very faint road that I'd turn onto, but when I'd looked at it on Google Maps, it seemed viable as a road.
Reality hit me as I missed the turn onto Elk Road - it looked as if it was barely even a driveway, heading steeply up a diagonal on a hillside. Garmin screamed at me and began insisting that I was off course and needed to turn around. I eventually did, and went back to Elk Road, where she again insisted that I turn. As I headed up the diagonal hill, the roughness of the road had me a bit worried. Some of the rocks in the gravel road were 4-6" in diameter ... barely a road at all! I made it up the hill, but came to a very intentional barrier that someone had erected in the road - a line of dumped stone/gravel directly across the road. There were "no trespassing" signs on the side of the road, but I reasoned that this wasn't the side of the road, right? I proceeded over the barrier and began to feel much like an intruder in someone's back yard. I'd not planned this very well, but didn't feel like I had much of an alternative as I couldn't stop or change the course without having a navigator to help me along the way. I pressed on and eventually it felt more like a gravel road again, and gradually made my way out onto Grunderville Rd. What a peaceful, quiet place this was! I was heading up into the Allegheny National Forest now, with the beauty of the birds waking around me and starting their day in song.
Along Grunderville Road, it became increasingly rough and in the half-dawn light, I could see mighty trees sticking out into the road where they'd apparently been twisted off in a recent storm. I was surprised that I even had to veer about to avoid some of them ... must not have been a heavy-use road! A Screech Owl played leap frog with me for a bit, flying just ahead of me and alighting in the road until I came up on it, whence he leaped ahead again. Eventually he went off into the forest away from me. I turned onto Grunder Run road and could hear the sound of the Run just off to the side. Garmin screamed at me again, telling me to turn left onto what seemed another driveway. I proceeded past and she began to scream more loudly that I was off course (again). I eventually turned around and came back to the "driveway". Headed up the first few feet of the driveway, I was a bit alarmed to see large signs saying "private road", "hey you, this means you: no tresspassing!" Okay, I thought, this time I'd listen.
It was now undeniably dawn while I pulled my phone and consulted Google Maps. I'd had the foresight to download the complete maps of the area while I had data -- there was no data out here, but I had those downloaded maps. I determined a likely course change that would get me off the private road and eventually (I hoped), rejoin the planned route, along the Allegheny and further to the east. Garmin continued to scream at me while I turned around and proceeded to backtrack along Grunderville Road. I couldn't help but revel in the glorious forests. Huge trees, possibly even virgin timber, surrounded me as I finally could enjoy the sights in daylight. Eventually I got to my cutoff at Lenhart Road.
Proceeding along Lenhart in the early dawn, I saw lots of signs of a violent storm that had come through this area recently. Downed trees everywhere, downed power lines and significant damage to the cottages along the way. I didn't have too much time to contemplate that though as Lenhart Road tipped steeply uphill and I gained almost 700' of altitude over a four mile distance. Not a bad hill, just a bit long. Eventually I got to the end of Lenhart and turned onto a thankfully well-paved road, Rte 3005. Many of the roads out here were basically fire roads for access to the forests around me. I never get sick of trees - I love my trees and so appreciate the experience of riding in this National Forest. I got to see a few trailheads and "attractions" of various sorts in the National Forest around me.
Once I got over the crest of the hills on Rte 3005, I headed down a 3-mile hill and kept the speed between 30 and 38MPH for almost the full three miles. Fun, but a bit cold yet for this speed. I was chilled by the time I reached the bottom. At this point, 3005 exited the forest and I came into the town of Warren South, just south of the Allegheny River. I was back on my course now and Garmin got all excited, beeping at me here, there and everywhere. She of course wanted me to go back and redo the course that I'd not been on, but I politely told her to put a sock in it. I came to my first open store! I had been craving my coffee for hours now and was very excited to have a nice hot cup of something to warm me up. I stashed the bike by the front windows, went into the store, and was scanning for the coffee section while the mere mortals there just stared at my strange garb and my helmet and clicky-clacky bike shoes (with cleats). The clerk informed me gayly that the coffee section was closed for renovation, but that it would "be back tomorrow!" "Uh, no", I'd not be back tomorrow for certain! Disappointed, I grabbed a hot breakfast sandwich and savored the heat and calories as I stood outside with my bike.
I now headed into one of my least favorite parts of the trip: a ride along the branch & gravel strewn shoulders of a limited access portion of US-6. The shoulders were wide enough for me to be safe, but the obstacles on the shoulders (more leftovers from the recent wind storms) were to keep me out from the shoulder quite a bit of the time. Fortunately, it was only about a 4-mile stretch before I got to turn off on to PA rte 59, heading along the south side of the river and back into the National Forest on Kinzua Road, headed toward the famous Kinzua Dam. The road was good, but the shoulder was interrupted with a rumble strip. I crossed over the strip a few times and it nearly rattled my teeth out. I couldn't really ride the shoulder as it was too narrow outside the rumbles. I rode mostly on-road at this point, with my rear flasher light still burning brightly as a visibility thing. I tried to get over a few times when I heard a big truck coming, but honestly, despite the beauty of the surroundings, I really didn't enjoy this part of the voyage!
Stopped for a few views of the Kinzua Dam and enjoyed a bit of my energy drink. I fuel on Cytomax, a sugar-free, high electrolyte drink that I carry as a powder and mix into water that I can buy at any store. The view of the dam was nice, but I was pretty chilly, so didn't stick around too long.
I was to stick with PA route 59 for quite some time, trying hard to avoid the rumble strips, the overtaking vehicles and the fallen rock on the shoulders of the road. Again, not tremendously enjoyable, despite the views being gorgeous around there. I eventually came out at Kinzua Point, crossing over the river at the now broad Allegheny Reservoir. I continued along Rte 59, avoiding rumble strips and heading up hills through more National Forest. After about five miles of gentle climbing, I had come up 700' of elevation gain and came across a high "saddle" of land that went above 2100' of altitude in a few places. Exiting the saddle, I had a fast descent of 30-39MPH into Custer City. I was glad to get out of the cool regions of the saddle for a while as I was pretty chilled. Temps warmed into the low 70s for a bit now. Turning north onto US 219, I finally found my first store with coffee! I was pretty darned excited about that and savored my cuppa joe while I mixed two new bottles of Cytomax. I also (didn't) enjoy another Cliff bar at this point but I needed the energy.
Northbound on 219 wasn't too bad until I got to Bradford, PA and had to suffer the indignities of another limited access portion, with rumble strips! I guess PA doesn't like bikers much? I got off 219 as I just couldn't stand it anymore. I'd mostly given up paying attention to Garmin, but she began to beep excitedly at me again. Turns out I was back on course again for some of this part, but she still wanted me to go back about 50 miles to do the portion of route I'd missed before. I was sorely tempted to stop in Bradford for a big, juicy burger, but decided to just keep with the Cliffys for now. Turning onto PA Rte 346, I headed toward Derrick, PA when I was overtaken by a Ford tractor. I tucked in behind him after he passed me and managed to draft him for almost 4 miles, hitting speeds in the 17-20MPH realm as I headed up a gentle hill. Nice option, when you can find it! The tractor turned off and I continued onward and upward. Another hill!
This was the last hill in PA and as I passed, I admired the PA sign behind me and the Welcome to New York sign ahead. I liked the warning sign on the New York side of the view.
Soon after this, I'd pass the high point on the trip and just past noon, hit 2400' of elevation.
Somewhere around this point, I just canned the navigator as she kept screaming about some point on the map that I'd probably clicked in my route planning and hadn't taken as it was a few yards off my real course. I got so sick of her griping that I proceeded to use her as a mere data logger for the voyage. Good move! The routes from here forward were not too bad and I figured I'd be able to follow them without her help.
I had my fastest time for the trip on the descent into Olean, NY, hitting just over 45MPH for the descent. It was a nice long descent too! Looping around the "roundabouts" in Olean, I eventually spotted a Subway. My bike and I both visited inside the store and despite folks gawking at the bike and me, I devoured a footlong sub and even got to use a clean restroom there. Nice. Back on the road, my energy began to pick up and I was finally into a portion of the trip where I didn't have the hills to contend with. With the lack of hills, I now averaged about 18MPH for the next 60 miles! It was glorious, but the pressure of using my "big ring" on the cranks added to the pressure on my nerves and my left foot began to fall painfully asleep. This would continue for the remainder of the trip and I had to stop every 10-15 miles and "thaw out" the nerves in that foot. I'd stop, take off the shoe and let the prickly pain of awakening nerves seep out as the feeling came back. I had a long stop at mile 123, across from Houghton College while I let the foot thaw.
After Houghton, there was a bit of a tail wind and, despite my foot falling asleep, I put my head down and hammered. I had an average speed just over 20MPH for the next 17 miles, not including a brief stop at a store in Fillmore NY. By the time I got to Portageville and crossed the Genesee River, it was time to buckle in for another period of climbing. First, the great wall of the river just south of Letchworth State Park (often called the "Grand Canyon of the East"), then down into Nunda and now up a long, hard climb of about 9 miles, but with a saddle in the middle where I'd get a bit of a break.
Coming down NY Rte 436 into Dansville, NY was, as always, a great blast of speed. Here I hit an average speed well in excess of 30MPH for a good portion of 4 miles. Dansville greeted me with rough roads and bad shoulders. I'd enjoyed the better part of the last 40 miles on near-perfect new asphalt surfaces. The only downside is that it appears that New York is also intent on adding rumble strips to the sides of its State highways as well; Grrr! Coming out of Dansville was a whole different thing though. The road was horrible and jarred me nearly to pieces as I made my way northward.
Somewhere around here I felt my phone buzz and stopped to check texts. My dear wife was offering to meet me ... with food! I gladly accepted and we ended up meeting in a post office parking lot, right before I headed for the side roads again in Groveland, NY. I sat on the open hatchback of the car while eagerly eating the food. I went outside of my sugar-free norms here and actually drank a milk shake. It was great to see Tina and despite the temptation to pack it in and call this thing done, I was beyond the point of wanting to just call this all stupid and quit the venture. Now I really wanted the personal best!
I headed up the next hill out of Groveland, pickup up another 645 feet of climb on my poor little legs. At the top, I had a burst of energy and absolutely flew from there down to Lakeville, averaging somewhere over 20 MPH for the next 11 miles. Not bad for being about 170 miles into my voyage. My body felt great and I was excited to break that record!
Lakeville was a bit of a slog as it was now fully dark again and I was running with lights. I predicted to my wife that I'd need a "bail out" with a fresh headlamp before I got much beyond Lakeville. She met me just north of the town and provided a fresh headlamp. Great, I thought, this would be it! She asked me if I had a tail light and I alarmed, said "yes, of course". Turns out it was not on! I turned it on and headed off into the night again, but it went out again five minutes later. This was going to be it for me. I had no spare tail light and while I could sit down and charge it off my USB power bank, I really didn't want to sit there by the side of the road, with muscles tightening and morale fading. I called Tina and asked for a scoop. She found me at mile 182.1 into the trip and I called it an end for the day.
I believe I would have made it in, had I but the foresight to carry extra light thingies, but hindsight is 20-20. While I should have been charging the tail lamp, I was too focused on making sure I was seen. The sad part: I had an identical tail lamp at home, but hadn't even thought to have it delivered. Sometimes when we put our bodies through this stuff, our rational thinking begins to fade and we go into delirium. I guess I was mostly there that day!
Afterward:
WHYYYYY, you ask, would you do this?? Okay, I'll answer and I think it's not a bad answer either. One generally doesn't do this kind of thing just to get a personal best. For me, this was barely even a best as my longest prior ride was 178 miles and, while this one was 182.1, and included over 10,000 feet of climb, the last one while shorter, actually had over 13,000 feet of climbing! The simple answer about "why" is this: I want to get to a point where I can say "no problem" to most anything that is thrown at me in life. When we can have a strong enough mind to tell our lazy body "shut up, body, we're doing this!", then our ability to accomplish much, in greater and greater measures, will thrive. The miles are a good test and good mental training. More regularly, I train myself by doing hills. The steeper and longer, the better! I typically train on stuff that's 16% or greater. When I am clipped into my pedals, I cannot get my feet out quick enough to avoid a fall. I generally can't even turn sideways and head back down these hills without the fall, especially when they are narrow roads and some of my hills exceed 20% gradient. I have one hill that I ride that actually hits 24% gradient! It's a killer. No, I really don't like riding that hill, but I do it because it makes be stronger: body, soul and spirit, we are ONE person, not three. Why would we think that we can strengthen our soul or spirit without training the body? It really does work for me and if you are open to this weirdness, I'd suggest you try it yourself. Pick a goal, a hard one, and take baby steps toward attaining that goal. Don't give up! Keep with it and continue to train your body. It's ultimately your mind that needs the training though - be public with your goal, don't be afraid to fail, but don't fail for the wimpy reason that you just didn't feel like it.
So, my public proclamation: I am planning to break 200 miles next summer. Hold me to it, okay?
1 comment:
Wow!! This is incredible and I enjoyed reading all of it! You’re a great writer too!
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