Yesterday I did a lot of playing Monday morning quarterback.  My reflections on TransIowa were of frustration and playing the mental game of what I could have done differently to have gone the distance.  But alas, it really made no difference, so it was time to move on from the experience and grow from it.  

My students and cohorts at school provided good therapy by allowing me to tell the tales of the experience.  At the beginning of the day I was swallowing my pride and feeling disappointed.  By the end of the day, the tales were more laughable and less emotional.  It made me realize that I was really taking this all a little too serious.  After all, riding my bike is something I do out of sheer enjoyment.  And I did enjoy the journey.  I/we also decided that "tragedies" can create a more realistic story line.  The hero doesn't always get the girl in the end.  Right?

So I thought I'd share some of the memories I have of the weekend.  Some are good, some bad, and some just weird little snippets of nothingness that have come to my mind.  

The Good: I stayed up too late on Friday night to with my pit crew, Kelley and Jeff, to watch the Blackhawks pull out an overtime win over the Blues. Go Hawks!
Good: It's tough getting up at 3:00 on Saturday morning to get to the start.  But all the lights aglow on the bikes ahead of me at the start of the ride provided a hypnotic beauty.
Good:  The first "B" road proved to be mostly rideable.  That was a good sign of "B" roads to come.
Good:  It seemed like an easy ride to Checkpoint 1.  The wind wasn't so bad and the legs felt fine.  Being on a single speed, I rode my at my own solitary pace.   
The Bad: After Checkpoint 1, the wind decided to pick up.  This was the wind I expected.  I didn't fight it.  I figured there would be both head winds and tailwinds, so things would balance themselves out. 
Good:  Surprisingly, the wind didn't seem to bother my spirits and it allowed me to get into a steady cadence.  When the course began to be more hilly, it just allowed me to get out of the saddle and stretch my legs. Just another day in paradise.
Still Good:  I passed plenty of riders between the first two convenience stores.  It was good to see Corey Godfrey, Mike Johnson, and Jay Barre.  I felt bad that I didn't ride with them.  I wasn't trying to be rude and not be more social, but my singlespeed gearing dictated my pace and neither going to fast or too slow for my one gear would be fruitful for my legs.
More Good:  After riding solo for most of the ride so far, I met up with others at the second convenience store and enjoyed some solid food and some good conversation.  And then it was off down the road.
Getting Good: After the convenience store stop, I got to enjoy crosswinds or tailwinds for a good long while.  I was feeling geared out whenever the tailwinds launched me down the road.  I soon ran across another rider (I forget his name) and had someone to ride with for about 30 miles.  A little conversation on a bike ride is always a good thing.
The 1st Bad: As I was cresting yet another large hill I had my first chain break of my ride.  No big deal.  These things happen.  All I had to do was slow things down in my mind and replace the link with some of the spare ones I brought, and then it was back on the bike toward Checkpoint 2.
Halfway Good:  Checkpoint 2 came at approximately 175 miles.  The crew that was there was extremely positive and encouraging.  I joked with them that I doubt the forecast of stronger winds would make much difference, which I would later find out I was wrong about.  When I no longer am able to ride TransIowa I plan to volunteer be a similar ambassador of goodness.  
Not So Good:  My dinner time convenience store stop was only about 8 miles after Checkpoint 2.  Upon stopping, I felt lightheaded and my stomach felt nauseous.  Wierd.  I sent quick text to my wife at home, and pit crew to tell them all was good, then promptly turned my phone back off. Even if I didn't feel good at the moment, they didn't need to know, and I knew was going to continue on anyways.  It was at this convenience store where I accidentally bought a raisin cookie instead of a chocolate chip cookie.  I really don't like raisins.
Back to Good:  The cure for not feeling good when you get off your bike is to get back on the bike.  Yeah!  I was looking forward to riding into the night.  The night offers a certain peacefulness and the lack of light causes me to have a new found focus. 
The 2nd Bad:  My chain broke once again while pushing up an uphill segment.  I quickly changed it  During this time a female rider passed me by.  She was riding impressively.  It's weird to just have someone come out of nowhere and ride off into nowhere into the night.  Ghostly almost.
The 3rd Bad:  Another chain break not more than 10 miles down the road while climbing another hill.  This breaking was starting to concern me.  Was it the same weak link area or just a bad luck chain?  I took out an extended amount of links and replaced them, being extra careful to make sure I put the pins in a good secure spot.  And off I rode.
Looking Good:  Normally you just don't see much of the Iowan landscape during the night.  But scattered lightning storms throughout central Iowa were lighting up my surroundings.  I was feeling optimistic that the distance lightningscapes were going to remain scattered an I would mostly avoid them.  During this time I also ran into "Guitar Ted" who rerouted me around a bridge that was out.  It was good to see him and have a little friendly chatter.  I extended my thanks to him for the generous amount of wind and hills that his event offered.  Our brief conversation and his distinctive laugh were something a appreciated during the middle of the night.  While we were talking, a mouse ran between our feet.  GT thought it was a leaf at first, making me feel like maybe I was hallucinating.
Good Eating:  I took a midnight break at the closed down Casey's in who knows what town.  I broke out a delicious provolone and turkey on French bread sandwich I had purchased earlier in the day, and chased it down with a Frappuccino I also carried on board.  I decided to put on all my warm base layers as I watched the lightning storms approaching.  I had two choices a this point.  I could either find cover and sit shivering somewhere and wait indefinitely for a storm to pass, or I could ride through the storm and hopefully keep my core temperature up and maybe ride out the storm.  Both choices sounded lousy. So I opted to keep on riding.                      Good Choices:  I'm glad I kept on going.  I rode in and out of scattered storm systems and eventually got to a point where the bulk of the storms seemed behind me.  About his time I ran into another rider.  I forget his name too, but he was from Whitefish Montana.  Nice guy.  He had his music playing and we rode together for a good while in the night and into the early morning.  He had rode hard to stay with the lead group early on.  A gutsy choice.  One I wouldn't have made, but admire others for attempting.       Bad Timing:  The last town I rode into proved to be fruitless in terms of food or drink offerings.  Convenience stores in Iowa apparently aren't open at 6 in the morning on Sundays in these little towns.  I had one last sandwich stowed away, so I ate it for breakfast and downed a bottle of Gatorade.  Good fixin's for sure!  And away we rode.
Bad Winds:  We rode a cruel 9 mile stretch of headwinds that had to be blowing close to thirty miles an hour.  The man from Whitefish was drafting me the entire way, which was fine, I was the stronger of the two at the time and I wanted a friend to ride with.  Within a mile before we turned out of the headwinds he got a flat tire and told me to go on ahead.  I probably should have stopped, but stopping sounded more miserable than riding at this point, so I kept on. 
The 4th and Final Bad:  At mile 311, while coasting a downhill section, easily hitting 30mph, I heard my chain snap.  And before I could stop, it had wrapped around my frame and rear cog.  I dismounted and undid the chain.  This time it looked bad.  The pin had not just broken, but the chain had kinks and bends in it all over.  I attempted to fix it with what few spare links I had left, but I didn't know if I could over come this mechanical conundrum.  I was 25 miles from the finish.  I had a decision to make.  I made the call. 

Not finishing TransIowa was never an option or thought in my mind.  Maybe I should have walked the last 25 miles?  I had about six hours to complete that distance.  Maybe it was the giant thunderstorm blowing in, or maybe it was sleep deprivation.  But I told myself I would be able to live with the decision I made and I wouldn't be any less of a person for doing so.  It wasn't an easy choice to make.  I thought I had been prepared, but I hadn't been prepared enough.  It was like loosing a game because an official blew the call.  It was still a loss.

When I tally up all the good vs. bad that came out of the experience, I can see that good prevailed.  I'm still the same me.  I'm still motivated to do the event again.  I still have an awesome wife, beautiful kids, and great family and friends.  I'm lucky to have had the experience and appreciate the opportunity to participate in endurance adventure events.  Riding is just part of who I am, but is not all that I am.     

First off, my apologies to anybody who reads my ramblings.  I was doing a little editing to the website and with one little push off of the wrong button, my blog page got unintentionally deleted.  Oh how I love technology!

Over the next couple of days I'll be posting some TransIowa thoughts and details about my 2014 ride experience.  There is much about this years event that my mind is still sorting through and trying to make sense of, so hopefully I can put it all into words while the thoughts are still fresh.

Over the course of 312 miles, I endured 25-30mph headwinds, lightning storms, rain, chasing dogs, and darkness, but in the end it proved to be my single speed drivetrain that did me in.  At mile 150 my chain broke as I was torquing up yet another enormous hill.  I fixed it using spare links I brought with me.  During the night my chain broke two more times, and I once again repaired them.  At mile 311, 25 miles from the finish, my chain broke one final time.  But this time it was on a down hill, causing it to flip up and wrap around itself, the cog, and the frame, causing it to become bent and kinked beyond repair.  And just like that, the ride was over. 

As I sit here, my mind and body are wasted.  I feel like I endured the event.  I gave it all I had and was in the perfect position to finish once again.  I endured the cruel winds.  I fueled correctly.  I had the physical stamina and mental mindset.  I embraced the pain and suffering.  I rode 311 miles over the course of 27 hours.  I did all these things, but I did not finish.  It's frustrating to say the least.  My name won't be on the finishers list.  I can say my bike had a mechanical and pat myself on the back and say I almost finished.  But I still came up short. 

TransIowa is about the complete package.  Everything has to go right in order to finish.  That is the challenge.  Every year I learn a little bit more about the event and myself, but as this year goes to show, there is always something more to be prepared for.  I am disappointed, but not upset.  I gave the event what I had.  Unfortunately I came up a little short.  But one things for certain, I'll make sure I bring a spare chain next year just in case.

It's two nights before the TransIowa ride and unlike my normal self who usually is up until midnight packing, I'm sitting here with my bags all packed and a little bit of time on my hands.  The logical thing to do would be to go to bed and get some rest, but I'm just not quite ready for that yet.  So it's a good time to ramble about the pre-TransIowa thoughts that are going on in my head.

I've had some good long rides this month, but my last one was pretty crummy.  It's good to be reminded that you can't always feel good.  TransIowa is a lot like that.  It has ups and downs.  I don't recall the triathlete who said it, but I once read a quote that said "No matter how good or bad you feel, it's not going to last."  That pretty much sums up what riding 300+ miles will do to you. 

That being said, there are things to keep the "feeling good" times in your favor.  Being prepared physically is helpful, but one only has so much time in their life to train.  Jobs, family, and life all get much of the top priority, as they should.  Besides physical preparation, the secret to finishing TransIowa is to stay fueled, stay hydrated, stay on course, be patient, and have fun.  Yes, I did say have "fun".  I've had my share of injuries and let downs, and to be of good health to attempt TransIowa makes me appreciative of the opportunity to participate. 

The jitters I have about this weekend lie in my experiences of the past.  Whenever I have finished, the weather has cooperated with the ride.  This weekend looks like it will be a beautiful teaser of a day on Saturday, with rain coming in the night or early morning on Sunday.  The weather is what it is.  I really don't know how I'll feel if it is 3:00 in the morning and there is a down pour.  I suppose it is the unknown that is part of the allure of such an event.  Finishing a 300 mile ride is such an enormous high, and I want that feeling.  But like with anything great that happens in life, I need to be willing to fail if I'm going to make that attempt to succeed.  I feel like I'm getting a little deep.  So like I said, I'm going to have a "fun" weekend of riding.

I have a bad habit of liking to try out new bikes.  In order to do this it usually means I sell one of my current bikes so I can financially make this switch.  Two years ago I rode a geared Surly Cross Check to finish 4th at TransIowa.  Last year I chose to ride my Surly Cross Check as a single speed to place second at TransIowa.  Since then, my Cross Check and I parted ways and I explored riding an All-City Nature Boy Zona.  
    
The Zona and I never quite got along.  The fit wasn't quite right.  The frame flexed some, and more than once I somehow torked my chain off during cross races.  Not cool.  After the cross season I had an opportunity to get a custom steel single speed, so the Zona and I parted ways.  Long story short, the frame maker wasn't able to deliver the custom ride, and I was stuck wondering what my chosen single speed ride would be for the 2014 TransIowa.  I could stop all this single speed sillyness and ride my geared cross bike, but I really didn't want to being that I had already committed to ride in the Single Speed division. 

About a month ago I decided I would just make do with a conversion of my cross bike and put a Paul's Melvin on it to do the trick.  It seemed like a simple concept.  Last week at the Grumpy Grind, my simple conversion presented a flaw.   My chain was somehow jumping.  Be it alignment, position of the tensioner, or dirty roads messing with the chain, I don't know, but having technical issues with a single speed for an endurance ride was not an option in my mind.  So I called upon an old friend, a Surly Cross Check. 

I hated to be building up a frame at the last minute, but I knew it was one I could count on.  I have ridden it the last two days, and man is it sweet.  Carbon has its good qualities, as does aluminum, but there is something about the steel comfort of a Cross Check on gravel roads that just can't be mistaken.  I see a lot of high quality bikes during cross season and on gravel grinds, and in my mind the Cross Check is the quiet kid in the back row that just does it's job and doesn't get nearly the credit it deserves.  With a week to go until TransIowa, it feels good to be back with my old Cross Check friend.  Hopefully it will lead me to the finish like it has in the past. 

Now that I know what bike I'm riding, I can move on to worrying about something else, like the perfect gearing for a single speed that can conquer hills, wind, loose gravel, and over 300 miles.  Hmmm. 

It's fun putting on an event, it also takes a lot of energy.  For the last month I put my energy into putting the final touches on Grumpy Grind 2.  Today I got to enjoy a stress free Saturday with family, friends, and a nice long bike ride.  The 3 hours of gravel I road today were a real eye opener.  Last week the roads were packed and fast.  Over the coarse of the week, county road commisioners decided to grade the roads and unload this years fresh gravel.  The loose gravel on dry roads was jarring and made for poor traction on hills, going both up and down.  The normal sweet spots were not to be found.  It's amazing how a 3 hour ride on rough roads can trash ones legs so quickly.  The Grumpy Grind riders missed all this fresh gravel, they were lucky.

On a positive note, this loose gravel gave me a reality check/reminder for what's coming up for me next weekend.  TransIowa.  330ish miles of gravel riding fun.  This is an event that some people call a race, but it certainly doesn't fit the mold of what most people percieve as racing.  The average speeds are less than 15mph, you have to walk your bike sometimes, and people actually stop to help each other.  Craziness.  It's an event where if you don't embrace suffering you probably won't finish.  Proper gear, staying fueled, pacing yourself, hydration, and not getting lost are all things that you have to pay attention to in your effort to help minimize the suffering.  It's easy to know all these things, but it's hard actually prepare for the time when you have to face these challenges.  

Today's 3 hours of loose grueling gravel were a good reminder that the gravel won't always be kind, and the legs won't always feel good.  Fifty miles is nothing like 330 miles, but approaching TransIowa with a humbling ride will hopefully keep me more mentally grounded for next weeks ride.

A lot of my friends have asked me how my "race" went this weekend.  I usually respond by telling them that my "ride" went well.  I personally love the spirt of gravel grinds, where the race manifests itself as more of a personal, or internal challenge, than something that outwardly presents itself on a results page.  But that being said, I like being pushed, and I like being driven.  And doing so with other cyclists makes it even more enjoyable.  As for posting results, it is fun to see where people finished, regardless of your time.

I have posted Grumpy Grind 2 results on the website.  Hopefully I spelled the names all correctly and got your times remotely close (the finish line volunteers did the best they could).  You are welcome to contact me and notify me of mistakes if you see any blatant errors.  78 miles, or however many miles some of you rode, proved to be a good days work, yet kept the pack within a manageable time frame for finishing.  I'm amazed by the speed of the front pack, and especially pleased that everyone navigated their way home safely.  Great job to everyone on that note.

A friend and fellow biker, Fred Johnson, was kind enough to drive around the course and take bunches of pictures.  I will attempt to post some of them on the website over the next week, but it would be just as easy for you to find the album entitled Grumpy Grind2 that he has posted on facebook.  He has some pretty great shots, so feel free to check them out.

I'm tired, probably more tired than I realize, but am on an event directors high.  Grumpy Grind 2 looked to be a blossoming event, with almost 90 riders planning to ride.  The impending doom of midwestern showers and thunderstorms cut the actual race numbers down to less than half of that number.  But mild temperatures, and no trace of rain until about 4 hours into the ride made for a great day to do a gravel grind.  Oddly enough, I'm not sure it would have been as fun of a ride if it didn't rain for the last portion of the ride.

I really want to thank all of those who took a chance and braved the weather, and were willing to take on an event that seemed nestled in the middle of nowhere.  The volunteers were great, and Brent and Yogi were terrific hosts on their Milledgeville farmstead.  With "all my ducks aligned", I was lucky enough to get to take part in the ride as well, which isn't something the organizer often gets to do.

Check back with the posts and the website over the next week and I'll try to get results posted, and some photos up of this years event.  For now, like many of todays riders, I'm going to crash with that good buzz from a great day of riding.

With two days left until the Grumpy Grind 2, there isn't much left to say.  I thank all of those who have shown optimism and excitement despite what looks like suspect weather coming our way.  Regardless of the weather, it will be a great way to kick off the gravel riding season in Illinois and make some memories.  I don't wish to treat people like they aren't seasoned riders, but I will throw out a few last minute ride thoughts.

*Come to the ride overprepared.
*Bring a cycling computer.
*You must wear a helmet.
*You must sign a waiver before you ride.
*You must wear a race number on you or your bike some where.  It helps with checkpoints and the finish, and makes you look geeky cool as you ride.
*Wear cycling shoes that you can walk in.  If it rains a bunch, there is at least one dirt lane that won't be rideable.
*Have a plan in place for someone to pick you up in case you DNF.  This is a self-supported ride and you are responsible for yourself.
*Bring a change of clothes for after the ride (even if it doesn't rain).
*Saturday night campers can just pull on in to the farmers property and set up camp.  I won't likely be around until early Sunday morning.

That should cover it.  It's not complicated, but be smart.  It's going to be a great day to ride a bike!

Please remember you are totally responsible for yourself during this ride.  So have a plan in place in case you can not finish.  If you only aim to go half way, or find you can only make it half way, the address for the only checkpoint and "bail out" point is 1929, Ben Miller Park, German Valley Rd., German Valley.  This will actually be mile 37.5, so you still will have 41 miles to go after that point.  Please don't have people try to follow you around the course route, but you can tell give them this coordinate if you wish.  Enough said about that. 

A lot of you have probably been looking at the forecast for the weekend, and are trying to decide whether you are going to ride if the skies aren't clear and sunny.  In other words, it looks like rain, and many of you are having a change of mind about riding 78 gravel miles while soaking wet.  I can't control the weather, and I can't make up your mind for you, but I can tell you a few things that might help in your decision.  First, who really knows if it will rain at all?  Maybe the weather man will be be wrong, or we'll get lucky.  Second, we have a large enclosed area, a barn (clean and without livestock,) to give you shelter before and after the ride.  We will also have a heater in the barn to help warm you up.  We won't be providing you with a warm towel and dry clothes, but I'm sure you can come up with a plan for that.  Third, you have probably ridden in the rain before and survived.  The temperatures of the rain looks tolerable.  There will be no snow flurries or single digit temperatures to worry about.   And lastly... well... this isn't a persuasive essay, but just know the ride will go on, even if you choose not to come.

It's funny how when we watch Paris Roubaix, cyclocross, or a sloppy stage of a grand tour, we get excited and root for the riders.  Yet how many of us have the guts to go out and ride  in inclimate weather ourselves?  I too am guilty of being a fair weather rider at times, so please don't think I'm making myself all high and mighty.  When it comes to events and things I have planned on doing, I have this special person in my life, my wife, who usually questions my decisions.  She is one of those people who is all about committment, and who sees things in black in white all too often.  "You either do it, or you don't."  When she questions why I wouldn't ride in the rain, it makes me question myself too.  And more times than not, I end up riding.  

Hopefully the weather shapes up and we will have a great ride.  Whether you choose to ride or not is up to you, but the Grumpy Grind will go on.  Rain or shine, it will still be a great day to ride a bike. 

We're one week away from the 2nd Grumpy Grind and things are starting to get real.  Yesterday I did a final pre-ride of the course to double check the cue cards and see if there were any changes in the roads.  Aside from a few sections that were recently graded, the gravel is dry, packed, and fast right now. The dirt road sections are currently firm and rideable, and even the biggest of the snow piles have now finally melted.  The only wrinkle I found was that a one lane bridge currently went under construction.  But no worries, the water isn't too deep and there is a way to navigate around it. 

The biggest factor in the ride will be the weather.  The long term forecast looks pretty favorable for Sunday, but who knows how it will hold up.  Barring hail, lightning, and gale force winds, the ride will still take place.  Whenever I think of doing an event, I always imagine it to be 70 degrees and sunny.  With a little bit of luck, hopefully that will be this weekends reality.