It’s been four days since the end of the Lucky Deuce Gravel
Crusher, and I’m still shaking off the effects of the ride(s). In fact, just
yesterday a little in-home project had me sitting on the floor for a bit, which
led to my back seizing up for the rest of the day. It’s still sore today.
So how was the ride? Let’s start with day 1…
In a word, brutal. And I was the one that mapped it all out.
Okay, I’ll admit that event day was the first time I had strung it all together
into a single ride. And in fact the first time I’d actually ridden some of the
course (I had driven it, but that’s not the same thing). Not only does time
dull the pain, but not doing the whole course at once gives one a skewed idea
of just how hard it is… So I was going into it maybe just a little less blind
than my ride mates.
In any case, after a dozen miles lulling us into a false
sense of security, the climbing start in earnest. And that in steep grades. I
had a 34/32 low gear, and was unceremoniously dumped into it early. Let the
grinding begin. And then, once you think you’ve hit the top (at 15 miles, with
a short downhill to seal the illusion), we take a sharp right and hit the REAL
climb. A cruel pitch even longer than the one on the Elbe ride, and just as
steep. I ended up walking a portion of it, and have no shame in saying so.
But the views from the top (at 22 miles) and along the long
descent were fantastic. It’s funny how dropping altitude, and the attention it
requires, makes one wish for flat ground, or even a little uphill. Relief comes
at 32 miles, and more when we hit pavement again at 34.
The stop in the raging metropolis of Malone, at the “post
office” (an outdoor drop box and PO Boxes against the side of a mom-and-pop
shop) allowed for restocking the water and fuel stores, then we were off again
along Highway 12, being buzzed by every truck in the county. Yes, Russ, there
IS a law that every truck must haul a trailer, apparently.
And then the precip started. A drizzle that quickly became a
vision-sapping heavy rain, and almost obscured the left turn back into Capitol
Forest (39 miles). Let the climbing re-commence.
Insult on top of injury. This climb was long. And steep. And
long and steep. With occasional respites of less steep. One seeming top-out at
44 miles, and then another onslaught at 45, with the actual summit at 48. That’s
right, 9 miles (give or take, mostly take) of ascent. But what goes up must
come down, and the next 8 miles was a series of drops and declines that had me
on the brakes or letting it fly. Once again, by the time I hit the base of the
gravel and onto pavement, it was a massive relief. Funny how we come to a ride
like this for the gravel, and then feel so relieved to be off it. Two more
miles of paved descent and back to the highway.
Turning off the highway at mile 60 and onto the backroads
seriously decreased the baud rate of input, and a sigh of relief was audible.
Little to no traffic, no terrain to deal with, an easy cruise to the end. Beer
and snacks followed. Glorious.
After chillin’ away the evening and as good a night’s sleep
as I could muster in unfamiliar surroundings, I arose for day two.
Though I was a little more familiar with the route and
terrain for this ride, I had never done any of the spur out to the Brooklyn
Tavern. I told myself that if I were the only one riding, or if every one else
who showed up was tired or not up to it, I’d skip the spur and do the shorter
route. Turns out I was the only one to show. But I was prepared for the full
meal deal anyway.
Similar to day one, there’s a good 10 miles of pavement to
warm up on before the first gravel sector. But this time there was more paved
climbing, hitting at just over 8 miles in. A nice, freshly graveled road awaited, with a
closed gate (so no danger of motor vehicles). But up it went right away. Not as
long, but every bit as steep, followed by some gentle rolling, and then a long
descent to 12.5 miles. I hit rain (or it hit me) just as I approached the final
uphill, put on my arm warmers and vest for the descent, and eventually sought
shelter under a tree to wait out the worst of the rain. 
Actually, the worst of it was all the tall grass that was
bent over the sides of the gravel road soaking me as I rode through it. Close
to the pavement, I came up behind two riders on horseback, and they showed
signs of skittishness as I approached. I stopped, said a hello, waited for the
horses to calm down, then walked my bike past. They, too, had gotten caught in
the rain. We wished each other well and went on our own paths. By the time I
reached the pavement, the rain had quit, and warm temperatures returned
rapidly.
A short paved section brought me to the second gravel
sector, with much more climbing in three stages, but also more pleasant gentle
rises and falls over the six miles. This road was also gated, as the winter
past had required ditching across the lane to prevent washouts – peaceful, nice
surfaces. Four short get-offs for the ditching and the final short rise back to
pavement had me back in civilization. Though this was an eight mile stretch of
off-tarmac, it went by quickly.
While I didn’t go out to the Brooklyn Tavern, I did go out
the spur part way, a couple miles to where the route departed the main roads, about
13 miles short of the Brooklyn. I felt guilty for not making the full trek out
to the destination, but also knew that to do so would have meant at least
another 2 hours of riding, and likely 3 hours or more total. I made the
decision to turn back there and get to the end of the ride, paved the whole
way.
The finish of day two follows much the same path as the
final miles of day one, so familiar landmarks goaded me to push it in to the
end.
Thinking ahead to next year, I see no reason to change the
routes at all. Yes, they were hard (more so on day one), harder than even I
expected, and harder than I had characterized in my info to other riders. But
with some more accurate advertising, I think that more crazies would be
attracted to make the event next year.
