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Two thirds of Team Shad at the D2R2
Dubstoevsky and The Virginian
Reputable rouleurs facing a hard day in the saddle |
The tenth edition of this now storied event. It's grown and changed since the first incarnation, in 2005 when it was a true
randonee and there was only one route, the 180K. The event grew to become a fundraising event for the Franklin Land Trust an offers several different supported rides (40 miles, 100K, 115K, 160K and 180K). I've done the 115K and the 150K (now the 160) but never the original, and the hardest of them all. Not until today, that is.
4:05 AM I was fortuitously awoken by The Little General (the cat); I'd forgotten to set the alarm! But only five minutes in arrears getting myself coffee'd up and out the door for the 70 minute drive to Deerfield and the epicenter of the D2R2 on ride day.
A travel mug of hot black French Roast with raw sugar; a peanut butter & grape jelly sandwich on Tuscan wheat bread; an old CSA peach, a banana at the last stage of its being (i.e., overripe & starting to rot). Not the optimum pre-ride delectables. Nor was last evening the perfect pre-ride night. Instead of eating a giant pasta dinner around 5:00, getting all my gear together, and turning in around 8:00 (which I'd planned to do), a crisis arose at the new headquarters of Team Shad (down in Woo City) that I had to attend to. That meant I ended up eating mediocre pasta (and not a lot), rushing around at 9:00 getting myself together, and getting to bed by 10:00 for a fitful sleep that ended up about 3 hours too few (optimally-speaking).
Not to mention that the day's 112 miles would be only my sixth ride since June 19th. And that it would be the longest single ride I've ever done in my life. And that I've only just recently recovered from a bursitis/tendonitis/over-use injury that kept my off the bike for 6 weeks. My saving grace, I told myself in one of those several private pep talks I gave myself, was that I was 8 lbs lighter than last year (and probably 15 lbs lighter than 2011, the first time I participated in the D2R2). So I did have one thing going for me.
On the road by 5:00 AM, I tuned into the Sirius XM Grateful Dead station and was brought right into the jam between Scarlet Begonias and Fire on the Mountain, part of a complete broadcast of 1981 Dead show. Good vibes! Auspicious development.
<Interlude of six days between the ride and the rest of this scribed post>
My intention had been to recount the day in a more or less blow by blow chronology but that plan has been abandoned. Between now, Thursday night August 28, and last Saturday, August 23, I have relocated Team Shad's HD to Woo City and have undergone excessive duress in the moving process; long days filled with relentless schlepping of Stuff. But that is a tale for another blog; this one is about biking.
In lieu of the Full Story, I offer a few reflections and a bunch of photographs.
**
I wasn't fueled up enough. That was evident by mile 40 or so when I started to feel the first pangs of quad cramping. The Virginian (a 10 year veteran of the D2R2) assured me that the first half of the ride, pre-lunch, was the absolute hardest; that the climbs were the most severe, the longest and the most demanding; and that the 50 or so miles post-lunch were "relatively easy" with the exception of one truly savage climb on Patten Hill Rd. This offered small comfort but the quad cramping bothered me and I feared, after one particularly long (2 miles?) vicious climb, that I would have to abandon after lunch, that I would have to find the most direct route back and limp home.
"Eat," The Virginian commanded, "you'll need fuel for this next climb, it's pretty hard." When The Virginian tells you that a climb is "pretty hard" it can be taken to mean "this climb is merciless and might well destroy your soul." So it proved to be, wherever it was (I am scratching this out without notes as all my maps and cue sheets are buried in the morass of boxes that is the new Chez Dubstoevsky). But I learned something very important. I learned that you can still use a cramping muscle. Doing so requires a mental fortitude and a willingness to believe in the idea of Mind over Matter, but it is possible. I know because I did it. I willed myself to press on. And I ate and drank as much as my uncomfortable stomach could handle.
**
If you search for D2R2 you'll probably find a few sites that describe it in exaggerated terms, like it's "one of the hardest dirt road rides in the world" and such. Reading such in advance of the ride, I took all such hyperbole with a grain of salt. How hard could it really be? I perused the map, the route seemed manageable, just a big herky-jerky circle through some classic old New England farmland, and over some hills and ridges. Didn't look like a hundred miles. Besides, what's a hundred miles over the course of an entire day? In a word: doable.
And guess what? When all was said and done, I can honestly say (without exaggeration) that the D2R2 was the absolute hardest one day physical thing I have ever done in my life. Without question. In fact, as the ride went on (mile 60, 65, 70) I began to cramp in places I'd never cramped before: my triceps began seizing up because of the requisite position gripping the handle bars on the endless climbs. To alleviate the cramps, I would sit up when possible and bend my arms, hugging myself, or I would alternate and lift one arm off the handlebars and bend & shake it, then switch off and do the other one.
At various times, particularly after 30 or 40 minutes of relentless climbing and handlebar-gripping, I would cramp along the ribs and mid-back area. These cramps were hard to ignore and, along with the quad cramps, made me desperate to get off the bike and curl up in a fetal position. I fantasized about doing so numerous times. I just wanted to get off the bike.
On the Patten Hill Rd climb at mile 93 my mind told me "enough is enough! stop. just stop. take break, get off the bike PLEASE." I was moving as slow as one can move and still be going forward. 3 mph, maybe less. A literal struggle to turn the pedals. Of course, the worst and longest and most savage climbs were all on dirt roads and that meant not only having to keep turning the cranks it also meant having to account for rocks, gravel, ruts, etc. You had to keep your balance when all you wanted to do was fall over and curl into a ball.
Perhaps the saving grace was the fact that it had rained the day before. After a long hot and dry summer, the roads had been sandy and loose. But the rain dampened everything, cut the dust, and provided the perfect surface conditions for attempting this beast. At the one steepest incline (a quarter mile or so at an alleged 27%), it would have been impossible to climb if the surface had been loose gravel and dust. Amazingly, it was fairly packed down and I was, through sheer will and gritted teeth, able to ride it without getting off the bike.
In fact, that was the goal I hoped to achieve (in addition to simply finishing). I wanted to climb every hill without getting off and pushing. And I succeeded. Both The Virginian and I did. I won't say we were heroic but we were dogged and determined and we climbed every frickin' hill of the course.
**
The D2R2 by now (and this was the 10 year anniversary) is an exceedingly well-run event. Everything, from check-in to the apres-velo food festivities, was seamless. The checkpoints and pit stops were well-stocked. At the top of Patten Hill (desperate moments these) the rest stop had fresh cold watermelon wedges, bananas, M&Ms, pickles, pickle/watermelon juice (everyone was joking about "getting Pickled on Patten Hill"). The water stops were essential and spaced appropriately. You knew, as a rider, that all you had to do was ride and that your food would be replenished and your hydration needs taken care of completely.
**
I expected to take more photographs but the awesome demands of the route made the idea of a comprehensive visual record of the ride an impossibility (at least for me). So the following images are random insights into the experience of one rider of this extraordinary event.
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| A little after sunrise |
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| Starting grounds |
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| Early dirt |
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| Archibald Macleish's house, Conway |
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| Into the hills |
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| Brief pavement interlude |
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| First water stop of the day |
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| The D2R2's veteran photographer |
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| With the niceness |
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The Top
East Road to the left |
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Ideal weather in the morning
vague sun, cool |
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Mountain Road
The beginning of suffering |
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Grinding upward through the forest
Mountain Road |
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The trusted rides
at a providential rest stop |
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| A relentless climb around the 45 mile point |
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The top of the Relentless Climb
My right quad is cramping mightily
at this point and
I'm wondering if I'll be able to go on |
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| Team Shad passed |
