Settled: The Great Lantiseptic Debate

It took a 630-mile bike ride on the historic Natchez Trace to hash out the finer points of a raging debate, but in my humble opinion, the scores have finally been tabulated. 


In the battle of skin v. shorts, skin wins.

At issue: the best way to apply Lantiseptic, the sticky cream with the intoxicating nursing home aroma that is used to prevent chafing on long rides.

Two schools of thought have developed. Some believe that Lantiseptic should be applied to the short's chamois. They argue this approach allows the lanolin and bee's wax to open up and breathe, like a fine French Bordeaux, before filling the various nooks and crannies in the nether regions. Count riding buddy Capn Ende among this camp.

Footnote: Newer riders may be unaware that Capn Ende is largely credited with introducing the randonneuring community to the wonders of Lantiseptic. Sadly, Capn has developed something of a Lantiseptic "problem." He now freely admits to liberally applying the substance to his knees, toes and other body parts that are best left unnamed.

Other hardy randonneurs, including myself, believe Lantiseptic is best applied directly to the gluteus maximus, known in scientific circles as "the fanny." The cycling shorts are then quickly pulled into place, creating an airtight seal, much like the submarine door in The Abyss.

Until now, there has not been an adequate proving ground for a death match of these competing philosophies. Then came last week's 1000K on the Natchez Trace, a centuries-old Indian and settler's trading route that slices through the heart of Dixie. Our route took us from just south of Nashville, the Music City, to the showcase of central Mississippi, Red Dog Road.

Ende and I, looking for a way to sweat out the espresso toxins that had built up in our systems over the summer, both signed up, as did riding buddy Carol, aka Bossy Girl. At the left is her fender from a previous event. She did not install it on the Natchez ride since it had been billed as a family event.

I didn't know much about the Trace before heading out to Tennessee. From what I was able to glean during the event, if you were an explorer, your best shot at having a car named after you was to hike the Trace. Witness the popular but short-lived De Soto.

Capn, Bossy Girl and myself drifted along at a tourist pace, gathering various guest riders along the way, including Rorie from Florida and RBA Jeff Sammons, who did a spectacular job with the route, the planning, and the volunteers. A tip of the hat to all who helped out and our sincere thanks.

The Natchez is a lot like her older sister, the Blue Ridge Parkway, but without the annoying mood swings. Both are federal roads overseen by the National Park Service. The Trace itself is hundreds of years old; the original walking trail crisscrosses the modern road at a dozen or more places. Finally completed in 2005, the Natchez Parkway is 444 miles long and has a land buffer of about 800 feet, often forested, making the road seem more remote than it is. It's exceptionally quiet, with mostly hard, smooth pavement, no driveways, no dogs and very, very light car traffic. ESPN named the Natchez Trace Parkway as one of the country's top 10 road biking destinations. Having now ridden a big chunk of it, I heartily agree.

The first two days of the event featured oppressive heat. Nothing new to the Tar Heel crew, but it proved to be the undoing of some riders from cooler climes. I've never gone through so much water on a ride. Even at a tourist pace (or perhaps because of it?) we often consumed two water bottles every 15 miles.

I have drifted into a ride report, and I know you're all waiting with bated breath -- as opposed to baited breath,  which is what carp have -- for the Lantiseptic showdown.

I find in warm weather I like to apply five or six of the small Lantiseptic packets before the ride starts. Since I slather the stuff directly on the old can, I need to do this in a restroom with a sink. The stuff is indeed tenacious;  it's easier, and quicker, to expunge a felony conviction than to scrub Lantiseptic residue from your fingers. But once the hands are clean, you're good to go for the rest of the day. A little front-end prep heads off any back-end issues, so to speak. I haven't had a saddle sore since PBP 2003, an event  I did on a wing and a prayer rather than a proper anti-chafing lotion.

In contrast to my skin-on-skin approach, Capn applies Lantiseptic  by carefully squeezing out two packets on each side of his  chamois. He also applies auxiliary packets along the way, as needed. Let's listen to him describe his technique.....

The problem with Capn's approach became apparent on Day 2, shortly after that video was shot. As we headed north up the Trace after an afternoon of blistering heat, I thought I was hallucinating or having a disturbing spiritual experience.... Was that... was that Richard Nixon on the back of Capn's shorts? His Lantiseptic had begun to ooze through the lycra, creating a milky apparition with a striking resemblance to our 36th President. In all fairness, it was not the jowly Nixon, but the younger Dick in his Checkers era.

Unfortunately, my phone battery had run down or I would have snapped a picture. However, I was able to locate a very close approximation online.

Shaken badly, I immediately charged to the front of our little peleton, where I stayed for much of the rest of the ride. My riding buddies thought I was playing the hero with those big pulls. Just the opposite -- I was a full-blown coward, fearful of what I might see when I drifted to the back of the paceline. What would be next -- Spiro Agnew?

I finally confronted Ende at the Collinwood control, 90 miles from the finish, and tactfully suggested it was time to abandon his severely flawed application technique.  His brazen response: "When your method produces a chance for the visage of the blessed mother to appear on your cycling shorts then we'll talk."

Fellow hardy randonneurs, I implore you, it is time to relegate Ende's application technique to the garbage heap of other discounted theories, like cold fusion and phrenology. These randonneuring events are hard enough without unnerving visions such as the one I witnessed on the Natchez Trace.

Respectfully, Mike Dayton / Raleigh

Pix from Natchez....

NC Riders 5 for 5 at Natchez Trace

A big congrats to the Tar Heel team at this week's Natchez Trace 1000K. We had a 100 percent finish rate. Successful riders included: Lynn, who finished near the front on her first 1000K;  John P, also completing his first 1000K and who finished with a big smile around 5:30 this morning: and PBP anciens Paul S and Capn Ende. Full results are here.

Our thanks to RBA Jeff Sammons, the Harpeth Bike Club and all the volunteers that made the event so special, from the pre-ride red carpet treatment at the Gran Fondo bike shop to the post-ride breakfast at Loveless Cafe, and all the fun mile markers and sign posts in between...

The fish is in the boat!

A great time with a great team...

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90 to go

Carol & Rorie in Collinwood... Also riding with Capn... Have seen Paul S and John P. Both doing well... Assume Lynn already done.








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Old School Bike Parking

Parked at lunch in French Camp













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Halfway at Red Dog Road

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Break Time

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NC Team ready to ride Natchez

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LSAH Meeting!

At Gran Fondo in Nashville. Ende and Buzzee....




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Dean, Adrian & Dr. C -- Gone Worldwide!

Thanks to our good friends (especially Trevor) at Audax Australia, who have reprinted an article from RTP written by our very own Dean. The article is here: Phun Physiology: Use It or Lose It.

Dean, you are finally get the international attention you deserve for your tremendous contributions on cycling and physiology. Not to mention some flat-out phun blog posts.

Also, in the briefly section, the Adrian Hands Society gets a mention. Nice! And there is an article by Dr. Codfish of Washington State, who does a regular article for American Randonneur.

Checkpoint is a tremendous publication and we're honored to be represented in it. Our humble thanks.

Speaking of representation, I see several U.S. riders on the provisional start list for the Oct. 5-8 Australian 1200K, Perth Albany Perth, including Mark Thomas, Spencer Klaassen (on a fixed gear!), Maille Neel and Carol Bell.

And, of course, one John Morris from New Zealand....

Raleigh poised to become bike-friendly? Part 2

Eric Lamb is one of the city officials who is a guiding hand behind efforts to make Raleigh's streets better for cycling / cyclists. He's interviewed here about changes to Avent Ferry, near NCSU. Sorry about the ad....

new "Bike Friendly Communities"

Congratulations to Durham and Chapel Hill, named "Bicycle Friendly Communities" by the League of American Bicyclists! They join Cary and Carrboro locally, alongside three other North Carolina communities in Davidson, Charlotte and Greensboro. As one advocate said, now the real work begins in making our communities truly bike-friendly.

Bikes & Brew....

Thanks to Eric Lamb, manager of the Transportation Services Division for the City of Raleigh Public Works, for the heads-up about this event on Thursday:

The New Belgium Brewing Company is bringing their Clips of Faith bicycle fundraiser to town this Thursday. Proceeds from the event will benefit the Triangle Spokes Group, who helps provide free bikes for kids. The event will start at 6:30 PM and will take place in City Plaza. Please help spread the word on this....

A couple links:  http://www.clipsoffaith.com/cities.html  and http://trianglespokesgroup.org/ ...

And a promotional video from the Clips of Faith site:



 Looks like fun...

Bikes--Boy Scout Troop 500

Spotted on the Cedar Island Ferry... Note that Raleigh International in the front...

Hatteras-Ocracoke ferries

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Out-of-State NC Rando Jersey Sighting

Capital Region RBA Bill Beck was one of our out-of-state friends who requested an NC jersey. He recently wore it on a checkout ride for the upcoming Civil War Tour 200K and got this picture with the North Carolina Monument at the Gettysburg National Military Park.

Said Bill, "It turned out that the guy who I asked to take the picture was visiting from NC."

More pictures from the ride are on Bill's flickr site.

The View

1000K Ride Report / Chris K

I am loving all of these ride reports. This one is from Chris, a very strong rider from western North Carolina. His wife is equally strong and both are a joy to ride with. Enjoy!

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Anomalous Spike in Berry Smoothie Sales

AKA

Greensboro 1000K  Brevet

I am not known for making kind comments about McDonald’s.  That might change since a new product at that ubiquitous chain is in part responsible for our successful completion of the Greensboro 1000K.  Also, I believe this week there are bean counters at McD’s scratching their heads at the pattern of sales of the Wild Berry Smoothie.  Many restaurants in a large circle in North Carolina had exceptional sales over the weekend.  But why?

Jimmy Williams, Annette and I planned to make the brevet a three-part effort of 400/400/200, and made hotel arrangements accordingly.  My parents, who were in Fayetteville and then Henderson, up at odd hours, setting out large meals, made up our support team.  They may have been as tired as we were, and got no more sleep.  Big thanks to them.

At the depart on Friday morning, the distance was in the back of my mind.  Projected high temps of 98F were the real concern.  We rolled out, cast caution to the wind, and rode at a high pace anyway.  Jimmy, Annette, and I quickly added Jerry Phelps to our rotation, and for spice we became a quintet with Stephen Andreaus on board.  This would do well in the opening 200K since Stephen was only riding that distance.  His exuberance pushed us on despite our larger ambition.

By mid-afternoon we passed through Greensboro, ready to get on with the big loop.  Wendy Gardiner, from Georgia, joined up with us, and that is how it stayed all the way to Fayetteville.  At times we scattered a bit on the long run down Highway 22, and Smoothie sales spiked in Ramseur and Carthage.  These concoctions staved off heat exhaustion, but the heat had done its work.  We arrived not at 11PM as thought, but at 12:45AM.  I had wanted more sleep, but two hours it was to be, sandwiched by supper and breakfast.

The second day we set out at 5AM sans Wendy.  The pre-dawn roads were pleasant enough and did not foretell what would come.  Day two was the day of wind.  It started at 7AM and was in our faces for the remainder of the day.  I calculated that 12 hours of a reduced pace would cost us 60 miles or three hours of riding longer into the night.  But, our capitulation to the wind also saved us since there is no success to be had fighting wind for twelve hours.   We amused ourselves with other things than forward progress, such as the information control at Snow Hill Baptist Church, more Smoothie stops, and all the dogs that came out to harass us, or to say hello.

Dogs are a funny lot.  They announce themselves with great bluster, do a great job defending their property lines, and only rarely do they actually pose a real menace.  I do not have dogs.  I am a cat person.  Cats are much different.  You will not know they are after you until it is too late.  Jimmy, Jerry, Annette, and I became like cats, stalking our prey.

At the Snow Hill control, the women in the store commented: “there was another guy that came through here by himself about an hour and a half ago.  He also asked me to sign one of those cards.”  We muttered ‘Bob’ in unison.  He was alone in the wind, having forsaken any sleep at all in Fayetteville.  We pressed on to Scotland Neck and learned Bob Sheldon had been there one hour before.  And it was here that we rallied against the dwindling wind of late afternoon.  Relatively speaking, we put the hammer down and clicked off the next forty miles in two hours.  This was a 6mph improvement over our progress of the day.  Sure enough, as we rolled into Skippers, VA, we saw Bob’s bike outside of McDonald’s.  There was a spike in Smoothie sales there also.  We added Bob to our group, and continued at a faster tempo.  Maybe we could get some sleep that night after all.

Despite nightfall, this portion of the ride was my favorite.  And, as unattractive as was the necessity of going through Fayetteville the night before, Tony G really made up for it with the route that took us from Skippers to Henderson.  It was party time on the lake, and we five looked like some sort of UFO with all the night riding gear.  The stars were unobstructed and the air was crisp at last as midnight approached.  Still, the wind had taken its toll and we reached Henderson, and sleep, not before 1:45 AM.   We agreed on 3.5 hours of sleep, which was again sandwiched by supper and breakfast.  My parents were doing their job at least as well as we were doing ours.  We rolled out at 7:30AM for the remaining 200K. 

The last part of the ride was punctuated by Smoothie stops in Yanceyville and a couple of other places, and was altogether a beautiful day.  The strongest memory for all of us will be that this was the day that Jimmy Williams began to feel good.  His pulls were long and fast, and lasted over several rollers at a minimum.  We dubbed him The Diesel, and he was.  A few times I was more wrecked by holding his wheel in line than by succeeding him and taking a pull of my own.  Conditions were favorable, and confidence was high as the miles dwindled.  Jerry had on the NC Randonneurs jersey that day so with the end in view we chose him to roll across the line as the first finisher: 58’ 13”.  We were all ready to dismount.

PBP is longer, but 1000K is no three-hour tour.

Chris Kamm

NC 1000K / Ride Report by Brother Rob

Following is Brother Rob's story-- and he's sticking to it...Congrats on his longest and toughest ride ever....

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I've been talking smack about going to PBP. Now was the last chance of the year to snag an early entry date.

I've been training when time allows but hadn't put in a long ride since the Fleche. But here I was rolling out at 7:00 AM.

It was a good crowd. Jerry was rocking his Mellow Johnny kit and leading the train out of Greensboro.

I was in the back telling myself to take it easy. It is going to be hot. The group is flying down the road.

A great recipe for personal disaster. Luckily the early morning commuter traffic and stop lights busted the group up.

I just relaxed and rode a good clip. Then it happened. My stomach started doing flips. I developed a whopping headache and started getting queasy.

Another rider had been chasing me and we met up at the first control and greeted each other. The rider was Al from Michican.

I suggested we share the load and take turns pulling. Which was a great plan. BUT I couldn't hold a wheel and was feeling worse and worse.

I rolled into Dry Pond, staggered over to behind the dumpster and blew chunks. Great. Just what I needed.

I immediately emptied the energy drinks from my water bottles switched to straight water. I needed clean, fresh, cold water. And a lot of it.

I was pretty close to last and deathly ill. Just F'n great. But I promised my wife a trip to France. I promised my Bro Mike we'd at least start PBP together.

But my body was screaming, "ABANDON!" I was sick. The sun was beating down on me. I was totally parched and out of water. I needed more water and now!
But I was half way to the next control and there was nothing. Then I saw a small diner on a ridge. I quickly circled back, swallowed my pride, staggered in the front door, and mumbled, "water......."

I offered to pay if needed. The waitress said, "How?" I said I'd use the plastic pitcher on the counter. It must have been a valuable pitcher as they said wait a minute, drifted to the back of the kitchen and re-emerged with an old gallon mayonnaise jar full of life's elixir, water. I staggered outside into another wave of nausea. I managed to rush to the corner of the building and hurl in front of a patron pulling up for lunch. I had better get out of there before they got upset. So I filled bottles and chugged and chugged. Then I gently rolled. If you are rolling, you are going forward. Al was long gone up the road. I was at the back. Alone. Hot. Sick. Discouraged. But I kept rolling and chugging water.

I don't remember a lot of details from here to Greensboro. I did make the control. Gator Cochran rolled up on me somewhere. I was amazed. I asked "What are you doing way back here?" He explained he was in the middle of an important real estate deal and was cutting the ride short. He had to figure out some way back to Atlanta. I've ridden in Augusta with Audax Atlanta a few times. Great crew! His phone went off again and he drifted back. I kept rolling. The little voice kept saying "ABANDON!" But it was getting a little weaker and I was feeling a little better. I just kept rolling. I was scanning the streets of Madison for a spot to stop and Fuzzy's BBQ came up on the right.

Went inside and wandered straight to the counter and ordered water and sweet tea. I soaked the sweet teas like a sponge. Went outside to refill bottles. Then some young girl said," She's checking you out over here. Are you married." Happily I replied. Turns out the girl's aunt was with her and had just been divorced and recently moved back to NC. We chatted and I said if I weren't married she would be at the top of the list! Then pointed the front wheel towards the next control. The next section is a blur but I remember climbing back over Pine Hall Rd. And I spent time recognizing landmarks from the ride out. I made it back to Greensboro. First 200K was done in eleven hours.

I was alive but very concerned about time. At the Best Western, Al was getting rested with his lovely wife giving encouragement. I tried to make some jokes but had better keep my day job. I asked if he'd give me a minute and we'd head out to meet Chuck Lathe. I dropped a quick message in Susan's cell phone explaining I was in Greensboro and heading out.

Al and I were late and worried. The territory had rumors of being tough. Tony down played it in typical fashion and with his smooth calm voice explained, "it will work you."

But I just kept thinking of greeting Chuck and Nina. And we were soon there in heaven! Chuck had put out a spread. Anything you wanted. Chocolate milk, energy drinks and snacks. Al was nervously pacing as Chuck and I discussed if 650B tires really had lower rolling resistance. I really hadn't taken care of my behind and was growing more and more aware that I was working on some serious saddle sores. I bummed some Lantiseptic from Al and slathered up. Al was already rolling and I was chasing his tail light. He busted up a monster hill and hooked a right with me closing on his wheel. We attacked some big hills for three miles until Al became alarmed and said, "We are going the wrong way." Well just great. We'd now have to back track thru the hills we just climbed. It wasn't Al's fault. It was more my fault for being lazy and not paying attention to navigation. I can't see well at night and used him as the leader. I can now clearly see some prescription riding glasses in my future. Al and I pushed on. Hill after hill. Slugging our way to the next control. Then Al got worried. Halfway up a big grinder he asked, "Did you give the Lantiseptic back?" I thought I had but was now really worried I hadn't. It is funny how the little things worry you. We made it to McDs. Stretched and fueled up. And headed back out towards Ft Bragg. Things were looking up. We were in a groove and road down NC-690. Then we came to a dead end. OMG! We were lost. At least five miles down the wrong road. I was miffed. Al correctly pointed out that I was right there and was as much at fault for missing the turn. And he was exactly right. I was the one being lazy. Letting him carry the burden of night time navigation. He looked a little crest fallen and I heard him mumble "We've lost over an hour." I only knew one thing. We had to back track. We did and discovered we didn't bear left after Rte 1. I clearly remember seeing Rte 1 and being ecstatic I recognized something and we barreled straight past the NC-690 turn off. We got back to our mistake and I tried to put a happy spin on it saying "Well it was only five miles and thank goodness it was a dead end road." We could have ridden to the ocean otherwise. NC-690 was tough. I had told Al we’d be in sand flats and we were stuck in sand hills. Long, long grinds. His light started trailing off but we were a team and I waited up a few places to see the light bobbing down the road behind me. Then we hit NC-24 and the sign for Fort Brag loomed up at the top of the hill. I'm here I thought. But after an hour of skirting the city limits I thought I'd never see the end of this leg of the ride. I pushed as hard as I could but wasn't going anywhere. The legs were dead. I'd been riding on little else but water for close to 24 hours. I was winding down. I grit my teeth and tried to whirl the cranks up to speed. There was nothing left. But I kept going forward and made it to the Days Inn. My wonderful wife was there! But rather than be encouraged I was panicked. Riders were rested and pulling out as I was pulling in. I waved to Keith as he turned left and headed down US-13. I waited for Al to arrive as I had promised he could shower and rest in our room.

He pulled up and said "I'm done. There's nothing left. I'm calling my wife to come pick me up." My goose was cooked. I was dead last. It was close to 8:00. I hadn't slept. Susan gathered me up and took across town to where she had booked a room. I showered and cleaned up. I was almost in tears and said, We're not going to France. I can't do it. It is impossible. She left me in the dark quiet room where I tried to take a nap and lick my wounds.

I woke up an hour later. I had a very bizarre loser feeling. But I'd fought a good fight. I could chalk it up to being sick and it was so hot. Everyone would understand. But not everyone did. I called my Bro Mike choked up and disgraced. I mumbled, I can't do it. It is 9:30. I haven't eaten, slept much and I'm 15 minutes across town. He wouldn't accept that. He bluntly told me, "You have till 13:00 to make the control. You haven’t missed it yet. You don't need sleep. You need whole food and to be back on the bike." He further added, “Get some food and get to the next control." This snapped me out of my self pity. I reached deep into my kit bag and pulled out the Virginia Tech jersey. This was it. I would NOT disgrace VT. Susan came back into the room. I looked her deep in the eyes told her what Mike said and explained they may find me dead in the sun but I'll die riding. I changed to clean kit. We raced to Food Lion and she wound the Subaru up to get back to the Days Inn. I slammed down some fruit cups, apple sauce, Fig Newtons. We pulled up to the Days Inn to find Al laid out on the sidewalk. He looked a little shocked when I stepped out of the car in the VT maroon and orange. Go HOKIES! I packed some extra Fig Newtons and pushed out on the dry hot flats. I pulled over, pulled out the iPod, plugged in and turned up the Stones slamming out Street Fighting Man. I remember Minnie Hall Road as I kept laughing wondering if she was related to Monty Hall. Come on Down! I came into Clinton looking for "Store On Left". But where? My odometer was off with extra miles and I was math challenged. Then I saw it. Road kill. Another rider stretched out on the sidewalk. One of the faster ultra riders. He was ill before the ride but attempted anyway. He weakly offered up a hot bottle of Ensure. You might need this he explained. A quick thanks and I head off. WOW I had picked up 15 minutes on the control cut off.

But I had heard rumors from up the road. I was heading out to the middle of nowhere. Water was scarce and no mistakes would be tolerated. I had to eat something. My "go to" super food is a Wendy's baked potato smothered in Chili. There's was a Wendy's on the cue sheet. Should I dare risk taking the time?

I've always heard you had to learn to eat on anything greater the 400K. So I stopped and wolfed down that potato. I was making the control cutoffs and that's all I would allow myself to think about.

Make the next control. If I missed the time at least I was fighting to the end. I build up on a hot hard baked crossroads. Tony had a visual control. Something from a sign. But which sign?

The one I just passed advertising Faith Healing? And I wheeled up to the crossroad. I've been to crossroads. But it was usually late at night and I was battering my soul to learn to pay blues harp.

This was different. It was midday with bright sun. As I came up to a church I thought, "Wow! This church sure has a nice RV." I was writing down Snow Hill on my card and a cheerful woman bounded out of the RV asking, “Would you like some water?" I honestly thought, "This is all I need now, a Church lady chasing me down the road trying to give me water." Little did I know she was actually an Angel and things would shortly take a dramatic turn for the better? She explained her husband, Ren, was holed in the AC of the RV getting ready to quit. In addition, some rider (Kevin Kaiser's brother Chris) had passed out at the next control. When she saw me come to a stop she told Ren to get his butt back on the bike. He wasn't last. I was.

Ren emerged from the RV. We looked each other deep into the soul and said “We are doing this!"

We filled up with ice cold water and headed down the road. Right into to the valley of expansion joints and tar snakes. Every bump jolted my sore nether regions. The air was full of the pungent scent of turkey manure as the local farmers had just dusted the fields for fertilization. Ren was from New Jersey and had not been in rural Eastern NC. I spent the day educating him on the finer points of dove hunting as it was opening day and the hunters were out in the fields. I pointed out the cotton fields, the tobacco fields and the turkey houses. We headed into Tarboro and asked what it was famous for. I said floods. It was also a great place to be from. Nothing could be better than getting thru Tarboro. We rolled thru a DWI check point and had the spot lights shined on us. But we weren't stopping. We were on a mission! We pushed thru to Scotland Neck to meet Patty in the RV. As we arrived at midnight only to find the last store closing and implored the clerk to sign our cards. We'd even empty the garbage out for her.

Then we tried to call Patty. Ooops. No cell service. Tried back up plan B. I woke my wife Susan in Henderson and after some rudimentary instruction on the GPS discovered she was too far away to help. We were cold and desperate. The condition was growing worse by the minute. Then an email arrived from Patty. She'd meet us in at12:20 AM. The RV arrived. We warmed up some mac n' chess. I borrowed a coat from Ren and we were on our way to Skippers truck stop. But it seemed that all we did was climb continuously. Maybe it was an illusion in the dark?

Then out of nowhere an apparition appeared on a scooter with a reflective vest and yelled, "Only 21 miles." I thought what a cruel trick the devil was playing. He will be dancing up the road and yell 20 miles, then 19. He'd tease us the whole way. I was on the highway to hell. Then sanity returned and I asked myself how did he know how many miles. Who is the devil that can read our thoughts? How did he know? And poof Ian and Kathy appeared by our side. They had been sleeping in a church nearby. Ren cheerfully greeted them and I sulked in the back wondering how can they be so gabby? All like hugs and kisses. This was serious business and they are all happy. This isn't right. No one is allowed to be happy. We are suffering etc. Well I guess I was getting grouchy. To me we climbed forever. I called it the stairway to heaven. I knew there would be an RV at the truck stop. Cleary being in that RV would be heaven. And there it was! We made it to Skippers. And Ren's personal angel Patty placed a plate full of pizza snacks in my lap. I devoured them and fell out. A few hours later I heard some rustling and Ian and Kathy were moving. Ready to take off in the early morning. I begged Ren to wait up and let me get some coffee. He obliged. And we headed out on sore legs towards Lake Gaston.

I was in my old stomping grounds from my teenage years. I recognized the trees and terrain. And as much as I wanted to make time I knew we were going across the terrain. It would be up/down. Ren has irrepressible enthusiasm. Always cheerful and optimistic and although it wouldn't speed us up, it made the day very pleasant. We had made a commitment to help each other make it home and we were living up to that commitment. My mind wandered back into time when Mike, Tim and I were tight knit brothers with a common love for riding. I felt good and we kept working the hills yet held a little back as we never knew what was around the corner. Then I bonked. I could hardly make it up the hill to the main street in Warrington. But I did and found an open buffet. "Ren!" I yelled. "I have to eat or I'll not make Henderson." I went in, ordered sweet tea and asked where was the buffet? Ren took a look and exclaimed he couldn't eat any of the food. To me it looked great. Black eyed peas with country ham, mac n, cheese, coleslaw, corn bread. I stuffed my face fast. Placed money on the table and took off down the road. Then the surge of power retuning to my body kept me comfortable all the way to Henderson. We found Ian in the hotel shower with Patty and Susan explaining his rider had dropped him because he was too far gone. Ren and I said we'll bring him home. It may take all night but he was rolling in with us. Bob was wrapping Ian's pedal with tape and Ian said his knee hurt too much to clip in. I took one glance at is bike and said, "I'm sure it does. Your seat is at least 1/2 inch to low." Ian seemed skeptical. How did I know that? Ren said to look at my position. It was balls on accurate. Ian took the leap of faith and made the adjustment. It was hot. But if we rode slow and played our card correctly we might just make it.

Ren was more optimistic and said we'd be home by midnight. Ian said,"But we are heading thru Yanceyville." "So what?" Ren responded. We both just kinda said it's up. So as we three amigos headed out into the western sun, we heard some ominous news. Kevin Kaiser had abandoned at the next control. What lay in store for us? We decide then and there it was hot and we were tired so let's just go easy till it cooled off. Ren was appointed navigator with his Garmin and he was accurate as a cruise missile and much more entertaining. He loved calling out the gradients. We hit a 13% somewhere past Stovall. But we all went up and over. The next control point Susan and I met up with Patty and they had a wonderful KFC dinner. And we got smarter and pumped our tires pack up. We were rolling better. Nothing would stop us. Made it to Hyco marina and listened to a great cover band. I was in an increasingly grouchy downward spiral. Every thing annoyed me and the shadows jumped out from the roadside. The hills into Yanceyville seemed to be stacked like dominoes. No relief. I clearly remember rounding a curve seeing another huge hill and heard a collective " Aw F__K'. But we pushed and tugged and jerked and strained until we rolled over the top. T he twenty miles into Yanceyville seemed to be the worst stretch, but I suddenly felt powerful. I was slinging bigger gear up the inclines at 16/17 mph. Up and up and up yet more until we found the town square with Gilbert smiling and welcoming us in to his bike shop for a tour. Only fifty miles to go and ten hours to do it. Just a quick roll down the hill into Greensboro.

But there wasn’t any quick gentle roll. We made progress and delighted in the fact that we woke every dog up along the route. Then twenty miles from home it seemed we crawled to a stop. Then I spotted an oasis of drink machines. But they were empty except for an ancient Dr Pepper I managed tp coax out of one. Ren said, "Let's get home." He reached in his pocket and produced a few Nodoz. I took one. As we started going again I was cold and charged to front and got the group rolling. Then Ian took over. Then Ren. We where rotating nicely. The miles ticked off. Only two more to go! Then disaster. I couldn't see correctly. I was seeing triple. The others had smelled the barn and run for the door. I couldn't follow them thru the business park. Like I said I was seein triple. I pulled up at a hotel in the business park and called Susan. "I'm lost. I'm cold. I'm blind. Someone needs to lead me in." Susan and Patty were smart. They explained I would be disqualified if they helped. I was pretty rude back to Susan and hung up.

Then phone rang back. It was Patty. She said to calm down and the guys would circle back. In a few minutes I heard a faint yell. I yelled back. The yells got closer and louder. We found each other and the road on home. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Ride Report / NC 1000K / Tim L

Here's the first report from the Labor Day 1000K. Congratulations to Tim L for finishing his longest ride.

PRE-RIDE:

This crazy life of Randonneuring continues to eat away at my sanity. I always look so much forward to doing these rides that I completely overlook all the pain and suffering of the previous ride. It must be part of the disease. 1000K (625 mile) bike ride planned for Labor Day weekend. A couple days before the ride I began contemplating that distance. I played with Google maps finding places that were 1000K from Wilson. Disney World (Orlando, FL.) is 610 miles from my driveway. Ok, now this ride is really starting to creep me out. This was like putting a face on what we were getting ready to do. But oh no, I’ve told the whole world I’m doing this ride and really working it up so no turning back now.

I arrived in Greensboro Thursday evening for the pre ride registration/party. There are 22 riders doing the 1000K from NC, VA, GA, DC, FL and MI. There are a dozen or so other riders there doing a portion of that ride. Tony G. the organizer has a spread waiting for us when we get there. We have tons of noodles, rice, grilled pork, chicken, veggies, and salad. I’ll register later! Probably half of these riders I know from previous rides. Some guy named John from Rocky Mount, the speedsters Chris and Annette from Ashville and others spend dinner together. There is also Kevin Kaiser from GA doing this ride as well. Just a few weeks ago he raced across the US (3000 miles) solo in RAAM competition in just 10 days and some change. Finished 6^th over all and was the top placed American in the event. As I’m about to tackle the biggest ride of my life, this is his recovery ride. It’s all relative.

  

DAY ONE:

We gather the morning of for breakfast and last minute bike tinkering. 30+ riders head out north towards Stuart VA. Everybody stays together for the first 39 miles to the first control but there is a mad rush leaving the store. Everyone now is paired up into little groups. I’m in the very back now but with today’s expected heat I have given up my goal of finishing under 60 hours so I’m not going to even try to keep up with others. It’s an uneventful trip to Stuart, VA, as I’m going my own pace passing a few riders along the way. It’s getting very hilly up this way and then I see a sign, Blue Ridge Parkway 29 miles. Fortunately we start back towards Greensboro before we get that far. We arrive back in Greensboro (200K) mid afternoon and the bank signs read 95 degrees. I’m eating electrolytes like candy. John is already getting cramps and I see some other very long faces. The heat is taking a toll. From there we head towards Fayetteville where most of us plan on getting some shut eye. I leave out before John as he is icing down trying to salvage his ride. We stop at COHO bicycles along the way where Chuck will build you your very own custom steel touring bike. I meet other riders at the controls but I’m mostly riding solo now. Sun is setting along with the heat and I’m getting a little help from a NW wind. My original goal was to get there between 12:00am and 2:00am but it was 2:45am before I arrived at the hotel in Fayetteville. Kevin and a couple others arrive like two minutes later. I had seen them in my mirror the last few miles. The group has a room there with food, drinks and our drop bags with a fresh kit and other goodies. John and I share a room but for now there is no John. I shower then crash. (3:30am) (400K) (250 miles).

 DAY TWO:

 I was up at 6:30am with only 3 hours of sleep. I wanted 4 but I was still clinging to that 60 hour goal and I had to get moving. John arrives like ten minutes after I awake, not feeling very well and can’t hold down any food. We have to clear each control by a pre-determined time and he still has about a 3 hour window for some sleep. I bid him farewell and I go for breakfast and eventually start rolling at 7:30am. I now have like 8 riders in front of me and 8 riders behind me. I am in the middle just doing my own ride. I head east towards Warsaw. Temps are nice. Legs are very stiff and sore and I notice my pace is like 14 to 15 with a slight tail wind. That is all I can muster. My heart rate is very low it’s just my legs that want go. Ok, no more goals for me accept to finish. I don’t fight it as I just ride very slowly. I hope no ones watching. Turning north now for Snow Hill into the wind. 13 to 14 mph and I begin to worry about even finishing. I’m going to have about 100 miles of headwinds today as the cold front settles in. Keith from Virginia Beach whom I’ve ridden with a couple times before has been arriving at controls as I was leaving. This time I don’t leave without him. I finally wised up. That was the one most important decision of this ride that got me to the finish. We worked on the wind as a team. We go through Walstonburg, now only 16 miles away from home. It is so very tempting to bail, but Keith and I trudge on. We stop at Wendy’s in Tarboro for food. Al Hull, an old riding buddy from Tarboro drives up, asks us how far we riding. I said 125 miles down and another 125 miles to go before we sleep. Oh yea, and that’s like after riding a 250 mile warm up yesterday. It was funny watching all the jaw drops this weekend. Off we go to Scotland Neck where we hook up all the lights and put on the safety gear. Much cooler now and the winds have died and we’re back to a 17 to 19 mph pace. Things are feeling much better except my butt. We cruise around Roanoke Rapids to Skippers VA. 438 miles down. It’s already after midnight and we still have 62 miles through Lake Gaston then on to Henderson where we have rooms and another drop bag waiting. I’m very sleepy but the thoughts of having a real bed and a shower plus coffee keep me going. Keith and I are still hanging together but with more hills now and darkness it’s more for companionship. We stop at Lake Gaston for a break but everything is closed there. No more coffee. There is Kevin’s bike beside the store. He must be in back getting some sleep. We leave him be. It’s 3:00am, 30 more miles to a real bed. We arrive in Henderson at 5:30am. The last 20 miles were really tough staying awake. I couldn’t draft because my reaction time was very slow and I didn’t trust my abilities. I learned there that John and a few others had abandoned the ride. Bob and Maria were there manning the control and they looked much better than I. I said good night/morning to them and Keith, showered and crashed at 6:30am. (800K) (500 miles)

 DAY THREE:

Awake at 9:30am. I had another 3 hour nap. It’s a very slow start for me this morning. It’s 10:30 before I can muster enough energy/will to get on the bike. I’m very tired but I’m way ahead of the time limit cut-off and I can grab some more sleep today if I need to. Kevin and a couple others are still there when I leave and there are 5 others still on the road behind us. Keith my previous days riding companion has already left. I still have like 8 riders in front and 8 riders behind. I start out cruising even slower than the previous morning but with a little more confidence this time that my legs will come back to me. I ride the entire day (125 miles) without seeing another cyclist. I cruise northwest up near the Virginia border and the hills are relentless. Everything hurts now. I stop once and take 4 Ibuprofen. Just make it go away. I stop again at an abandoned fire station in “I don’t know where” anymore. I sit down, close my eyes and nap for a few minutes. I’m now riding up and down some very long hills that are just grinding me down to a nub. At mile 554 I reach Hyco Lake where there is a grill and I get some real food there. I had a club sandwich with some homemade thick potato chips and a couple pitchers of tea. 71 miles left to go. At mile 590 I’m in Reidsville and stop to rest at a funeral home. I’m not yet ready to check out so I leave there and continue on in the darkness to get this thing finished. Mile 607 I’m on a long desolate road in the middle of nowhere. A farm house every half mile or so. There are deer all over the place, I’m shooing them out of the road. I make my final rest stop on a farm path to put on some long sleeves and to make one final call home as it’s already 10:30pm. I shut off all my lights and take a gander at the night sky. I’d gladly trade my bike for my telescope right now. The cold front has left the skies pristine. I scuff my shoes on a rock and a huge creature of some sort flutters it the tree behind me. The 30 foot tall tree is swaying from the movement. Every time I make a noise it ticks him off. I do not shine my light into the tree afraid I might already be on his last nerve. I’m probably disturbing a huge owls hunting session. I’m beginning feel like I’m in a Poe novel. I start making preparations to leave. I continue on to Greensboro riding around the airport with very little traffic. I arrive back at the motel at 11:45pm. I had intentions of finishing about 4 hours earlier and driving home but instead I check in to the motel, shower, and this time I sleep for 7 hours. (1000K) (625 miles) (64 hours and 45 minutes) (Climbed over 16,000 vertical feet) (Burned over 50,000 calories) (6 hours of sleep) (I now have over 5,000K in RUSA events in my first year) (Sometime Saturday I passed 10,000 miles for the year) I’m taking tomorrow off!

 Tim

Blackbeard's Permanent / A Close Shave

There are deadlines. Then there are deadlines. I put ferry schedules in the latter category. Miss the 5 p.m. Swan Quarter to Ocracoke ferry, a 2.5-hour ride across the Pamlico Sound to North Carolina’s barrier islands, and you’re stranded overnight in a town that is 25 miles from nowhere, with no restaurants, no stoplight, one convenience store and a courthouse. I think there’s a hotel another 10 miles up the road. Never seen it but it shows up on Google maps.

I looked up my old times doing Blackbeard. It usually took me 12 to 12.5 hours to cover the 177 mile route when riding solo. I planned accordingly, striking out at 4 a.m. to catch the 5 p.m. ferry. I figured I’d have a few minutes to shower off with the hose behind the ferry office, change into street clothes.

I sauntered through the first third of the course at a leisurely pace, stopping to take a few pictures, put on sunscreen, put away the night riding gear.

All was good, until I hit a major detour just before Belhaven. Along our coastal areas, the bridges get pretty beat up by the weather and the salt. It’s not unusual to find bridges being replaced in the summer months. But this one necessitated a 10-mile detour. I was already shaving the time pretty close. This could prove to be my undoing.

The last two hours were not pretty. I ran out of water, and ran into a headwind. Not fierce, but enough to drop my top speed down to about 16, working hard. I badly needed a drink of anything and stopped when I saw a drink machine at a closed roadside store. The machine took 85 cents. I had 80. I rolled on, passing a mileage sign – 17 miles to Swan Quarter – and did some quick calculating. If I could keep my speed at 16.5, I’d make it into town with 2 minutes to spare. When I got into Swan Quarter, it was 4:55.  I still had a mile or so to the ferry. Three or four locals were standing at the stop sign. They laughed as I stopped, checked, made the turn. “You better hurry.” They knew what was up.

When I made the final turn into the ferry, the boat was still at the dock, and a worker was standing outside the ticket window. The time: 4:59. “You just made it,” he said, taking my $3. “They’re waiting on you.”

Best ferry ride I’ve ever taken.

Another great day on the bike.

Congrats to 1000K Riders

Lots of good reports are coming in from Tony G's 1000K, held over the Labor Day Weekend. Setting a blistering pace were riding buddies Jerry, Chris, Annette, Bob & Jimmy. They finished as a group in 58:15. Nice work! and we look forward to the ride report.

A very special congratulations to Ian, Adrian's son, and brother Rob, who I believed hung the lanterne rouge. Both of them persevered through some low moments and sharp pains to get 'er done. Rob said he'll give us the full story in a ride report. This was the longest ride for each.

There were other friends out on the course. I haven't heard from them, but here's hoping all were successful...

black Creek on Blackbeard

no message

new NC Rando Jersey

on Blackbeard route

Summertime Blues...

When the temps hit 99, this guy's hair gel is guaranteed to cool ya down.... This song's been done louder, but never better...

NC 1000K Under Way!

1000K Start -- I see a Last Chance Jersey, a Shenandoah jersey, and two new NC Randonneur jerseys! Picture stolen borrowed from Biker Bob....

Best to all our riding buddies who struck out on Tony Goodnight's 1000K this morning at 7 a.m. For the next three days, a group of about 20 riders will be doing a counterclockwise tour of the middle and eastern part of the NC, after first completing a jog up to Virginia through the Sauratown Mountain area.

Today is going to be viciously hot, with highs near 100, but the weekend is expected to cool off to very comfortable mid-80s, and there is no rain in the forecast.

Tony has posted the route in 200K segments in Trimble, and they are embedded below, if you're interested  in the course.

Tony is hosting a smörgåsbord of rides this weekend, with various 200K to 600K options.

Bonne route to all!

MotionX-GPS | A First Look

I've written in the past week or so about Cyclemeter, an iphone application I've been using to record recent rides. I've been very happy with it.


I've just downloaded another app, MotionX-GPS, for $2.99. This application is more of a true GPS program, with the ability to store maps and set waypoints. A few of the features, according to the maker's website:

• Live Speed and Altitude graphs.
• Ascent / Descent and gradient information.
• Share tracks up to 5MB.
• Map Storage Interface: Downloading and storing maps is faster and easier than ever.
• MotionX Terrain and Road maps can be stored for worldwide use and no data fees.
• Support for GPX file import enables wirelessly importing of GPS tracks and waypoints from any source, anywhere.

I'm planning to ride Blackbeard's Permanent this weekend and will put the program through its paces then. But in about an hour of learning the application, I was able to draw the route in Google maps, export that to a GPX file, and import it into my iphone. Now I have a turn by turn route stored in my iphone.

I've posted a screenshot on the right. Whether I can read the screen on the fly is another question.

One very nice feature is the ability to download maps of the area where you'll be riding. Even if I don't have a GPS signal or other phone service, presumably I"ll be able to look at the maps should I miss a turn or need to make a detour.

The program has a photo button that I assume geo tags photos along the route. It also has a built-in iPod interface so you can control your music selection with the application running in the foreground. You can also share routes with other users, and you can upload status updates to social media sites.

At first glance, this appears to be an extremely powerful and sophisticated application for following established routes, recording new ones or simply finding your way when you're lost in the countryside.

If others have used, I'd be interested in hearing their experiences.

As for that iPod song: Bigger Wheel. Mr. Bruton steps up around the 4 minute mark.... Another great video by him: Waitin' for a Long Time.