A couple of people have suggested that I write down my
experiences from the 2014 Dirty Kanza. Most people who might read this know that the DK is a 200 mile race through the Flint Hills of Kansas on a bicycle. Keep in mind, I am not a writer, so bear
with my rambling. You may ask, why am I writing this? I am not sure myself,
however this task, the DK, is such a tremendous challenge for someone like me
and it has yet again had a huge impact on me mentally, emotionally, and
physically that I feel the need to preserve the moment.
My original intent was to document my time from sign-up day
in January until the end through photos and video. However, other things got in
the way and I was torn between training and documenting the training. I felt
that if I spent the time documenting the training like I wanted to, I was
losing site of my main goal, finishing this bastard again, and proving to
myself that the first time was not a fluke. So, no photos, no video, just a lot
of rambling.
Training:
Training went fairly well this
year. As always, I never feel like I get enough miles in, and I felt guilty
about not riding more. I started riding in late November. April was good. I did
4 century+ rides (3 of them solo) on the weekends and quite a few more miles in
during the week. More than I have done in the past.
My last big tune up for the DK was
going to be the Maizie’s Ride in Eskridge, Kansas, three weeks before. 106
miles of the narliest gravel and hills in NE Kansas (thanks Ryan Dudley). For me
it ended up being about 3 miles of cycling, a derailleur ripped off my bike,
and $160 in repairs.
The best part about training was
that I seemed to have my cramping problem under control. 4 centuries in April,
no cramping. Occasionally I would get a cramp or two on a ride, but not the
never ending, legs locking up type that I have been famous for in the past. I
was riding slower, keeping my heart rate average lower (135-145), and it seemed
to be working. I did about 90% of my training solo because I hate to hold
others up. Riding at my own pace seemed to fix the cramping issues.
Day before:
The day before the DK, I had the day
off and spent most of it getting everything ready. I figured it would take me
an hour or two and then I could just relax and stay off of my feet. It is
amazing how many little things you have to gather up and pack for the SAG
stops. Ran to the store for a couple of last minute things and a quick trip
downtown to register. (I should mention, downtown Emporia was incredible, the
place was hopping.) The next thing I knew, it was time for the riders meeting.
A quick spaghetti supper at the Honea’s
followed, and then it was back home to pack up the Jeep. I felt like
crap, back hurt, feet hurt, and extremely stressed. Everyone kept saying I
would have a great ride, but I was not so sure. Typically I have a terrible
time sleeping before any type of competition, however this time I slept just
fine.
Race Day:
4:30 am alarms are not my idea of
fun. There are very few things in my life I will get up that early for. Biking.
Fishing. Soccer. That’s about it. Okay, perhaps one other thing…
I got down to the start line around
4:50 am. I don’t like to be late. There were not may people down there yet (I
guess I really did not need to be down there that early either). Finally I saw
Rick Becker and Jeff Young ride up and before the start we took a group shot of
4 of the Mulready’s riders (Rick, Jeff, Smitty Smith, and myself) together (not
sure where Troy Ochs was). I was nervous as hell. Rick and Jeff lined up at the
front of the 14-hour group and just before 6, I saw Troy at the front of the 16-hour
group. I decided to drop in at the back of the 16-hour group. I thought if I
had a really good day, somewhere between 16 and 18 hours may be a possibility.
Leg 1 Emporia to Madison:
If you have never had the chance to
roll out on a mass start in a cycling event, you should give it a try. It’s a
rush. People cheering, the sound of riders clicking into their pedals, the
colors. It gets your adreneline flowing, and apparently that is a problem for
me. My goal was not to take off too fast, just nice and easy, and most
importantly, keep my heart rate down. I did much better than my first two DK
rides at not taking off too fast. I simply tucked in behind a rider who was
going a nice, easy pace and forced myself not to try working my way up through
the pack. I succeeded with that goal. Unfortunately, my heart rate did not stay
down. I got too caught up in the moment. I don’t think it went below 155 until
after the first checkpoint. The more I thought about it, the worse it was, so I
just tried to ignore it and ride.
In my first DK attempt, I stared
cramping at mile 24, and only made it a total of 96 miles before my DNF. In my
second DK attempt, I made it to mile 30, and I actually managed to finish the
full 200 miles. This time I was fairly sure that I could ride the first 100
almost cramp free, and I knew I could suffer through the rest if needed. So
much for that plan. Mile 17, on Road YY (Towers Road), first cramp hits. No
problem. Just ignore it, it will go away. Then cramps off and on through the
Cattle Pens. I kept backing off, letting many riders pass, and trying to get
the cramps to die down, with varying success.
I ran into and old friend, Doug (blanking
on his last name) again early on the first leg. The only time I have seen him
in the last four years, has been riding the DK. I find it amazing that with so
many riders, we would actually run into each other every time. Shawn Honea and
Smitty Smith (Half Pint riders) beat me to the Cattle Pens, and I said hi as a
rode by trying to look fresh. I rode for a while with Cory Bacon, Bobby Thompson,
and then Ryan Dudley near the end of the first leg, but just before Madison, my
legs decided to lock up. Damn! Are you fucking kidding me! (and a few other
choice words) I had to stop and take some ibuprofen. I also brought some pills
that were specifically for leg cramps. The rest of the day would be an
unhealthy combination of ibuprofen, asprin, and leg cramp pills. I can tell
you, it doesn’t help.
So, I limped into Madison pissed
off, but still feeling better than I did in my first two attempts.
I should mention, the weather was
amazing. Full cloud cover, beautiful fog the first part of the ride. It was
very humid, but I am not complaining. Those clouds could stick around all day
as far as I was concerned. All of the riders were covered in dirt and mud due
to the dusty conditions and high humidity (they don’t call it the Dirty Kanza
for nothing).
Checkpoint 1 Madison:
As you roll into checkpoints, it
gives you a boost. People cheering again, the chaos of finding your SAG
vehicle, trying to get everything done as fast as you can and get back out on
the gravel. As I rolled up to my SAG, Bobby Thompson is in a little bit of a
panic. He had actually beat his SAG crew to the stop. We did actually make good
time, faster than I would have guessed. It was not a problem because I had more
than enough stuff to share with him, but I can feel his pain.
My support crew consisted of my
lovely wife Lisa and youngest daughter Kate. They had never witnessed this side
of me riding before, and I think it was an eye opener. I am not sure they knew
what they were getting themselves into, but they dove in and did a tremendous
job. I started barking out orders of what I needed and how to do it. I know I
can be a real ass when I get stressed, but they are used to it by now. I had my
daughter beat on my legs, and as much as it hurt, it was what I needed (I think
she may have enjoyed making me squirm a little). I tried something that I had
not done before. Since my left thigh was giving me the most problem cramping, I
put a sock filled with ice on it under my shorts and rode the whole second leg
with it on there. Obviously the ice did not last the whole section, but it
looked sort of odd having a huge bump on my leg. Have I mentioned that pickle
juice tastes like crap! Doesn’t do anything but make you want to throw up.
I had told them I wanted to keep
all stops to 15 minutes or less, and we were right on schedule. I was not
“racing” but some of the best advise I every heard was to “recover on the
bike.” I don’t like long stops, I actually feel worse when I do. Just keep
rolling forward. I rolled out of Madison looking to keep on the same pace as
the first leg. If I did, I might just pull off a sub 18-hour day.
Leg 2 Madison to Cassoday:
I have not yet mentioned the sick,
evil minds of Jim Cummings, Tim Mohn, Kristi Mohn, and LeLan Dains yet, but as
I left Madison, I began to curse them. They had a great idea of putting this
steep-ass hill immediately leading out of Madison. Walked-it. Cramped. Cussed.
Walked many, many hills after that.
That was pretty much my second leg,
cramping, walking hills, cursing, and I added a flat tire for good measure
about half way through. Time was flying by, but the miles were not. I got
passed by riders on fat bikes. This skinny tire cross bike was not helping
much. As I have said many times before “if I could only buy new legs” I would
be dangerous. The clouds started disappearing as I left Madison as well. I suck
in the heat, and bitch about it even more (just ask my wife).
Battle Creek Road leading into
Cassoday is my nemesis. I think I have only successfully ridden it without
walking at least one hill, one time. That was the first time I rode it and I
did not know what was coming.
I must have looked like shit,
because one time while I has hobbling up a hill, pushing my bike, (other riders
that were pushing their bikes were passing me) a rider came along beside me and
looked concerned. He said that he had seen a SAG vehicle picking someone else
up not far back and he was sure they would give me a ride if I needed one. I thanked
him, but in my mind I told him to F-off. I can do this. I know he meant well.
That is one of the coolest things about the cycling community. Everyone looks
out for each other. They are more than willing to share food, water, tubes,
air, whatever you need. Some of the best people you could ever be around.
Luckily I had made good time on Leg
1 so I was able to make the cutoff for Leg 2 as well, but I had ate up much of
my cushion. Leg 3 was very questionable.
Checkpoint 2 Cassoday:
The crew knew what they were doing
for this SAG stop and gave me everything I needed. They were being as positive
as they could be and trying to pump me up, but I knew they were beginning to
get worried. More of the same leg pounding, hydration, and trying to eat. My
stomach was already beginning to argue. A large ice pack for each thigh this
time out
Leg 3 Cassoday to Cottonwood Falls:
Leaving Cassoday, I had personally
come to terms with the fact that I would never reach Cottonwood Falls by cut
off, let alone finish this damn race. I did not tell my support crew, but I
think they suspected it as well. The first section was a lot of rolling hills
and I could only ride perhaps two or three of them. Every time I looked down at
my speed, it was only around 7mph. Another guy stopped to check on me and gave
me some electrolyte pills for me to combine with my pill cocktail. I had been
throwing all sorts of stuff in my body to just make the pain go away.
Just before turning back North,
there is a big decent that I reached around 36mph on. Not a good idea when you
are exhausted and feel like passing out. On the way down I remember thinking
that this would not be a good place to have a blowout.
I stopped at the turn North and
fell off my bike. I thought my day was over. This is kind of gross, but I
realized that I had only peed once all day. I had drank a ton of fluids, but
just could not go. I am sure that is part of my problem. I almost called for a
pick-up but decided while there was still time on the clock, I would keep
rolling forward.
It took me forever to get the first
25 miles of the 3rd leg in. I finally reached an area of relative
flatness (if that even exists out there). A few positive thoughts crept into my
mind, and I thought I might have a chance to make Cottonwood Falls before the
cutoff. Then I proceeded to throw up on myself. So much for that idea. I happened
to run into another gentleman somewhere along Leg 3. Oddly enough, we had met 2
years ago on the DK as well. He is from Florida, but his family is from Emporia
I believe, so he comes back to ride the DK. Sorry, I can’t remember his name,
but it is crazy who you meet in the middle of nowhere.
About 30 miles into Leg 3, while
walking yet anther hill I hear someone call my name. Angela Spellman had caught
me and said, I have something for you. She gave me some salt tablets to fix my
cramping. I thanked her, but was not convinced they would do anything. What the
hell, can’t hurt to throw some other pills in there. She rode away convinced
she would beat the sun into Cottonwood Falls. I remember thinking, how could
she be so damn positive? I wished her good luck and kept rolling forward. I had
decided that when I reached Bazaar I would call for a ride.
As I crossed the highway at Bazaar
I heard some cheering. Damn, there were people out watching, I can’t stop now.
That would be embarrassing. They offered me water and told me they were
enjoying beer and margaritas. I almost stopped for good.
Finally I decided to roll into
Cottonwood Falls and call it a day. I would not make the cut off, but at least
I would not call for a pick-up. The sunset was amazing and I really wanted to
stop and take a photo. Turns out later, it is a good thing that I didn’t.
Checkpoint 3 Cottonwood Falls:
I came in after dark, ready for
this torture to be over. I was sure I had not made the cut-off. As I crossed
the line, the guy said “here is your map for the last section.” I don’t
remember my exact reply, but by the look on his face, it was not very nice. I
hope the “F” word did not come out. I could not believe that I had made it and
I REALLY did not want to continue. This was stupid.
I made my way to the SAG, but had a
hard time finding it. Then I heard my wife yelling and she sprinted back to the
Jeep, and was rushing around getting me ready for the last leg. Later she told
me that she had never ran that fast in her life. She is in recovery now as
well. Everyone told me how great I looked and I could finish this easily. All
liars! I talked with my daughter on the phone and she told me to suck it up and
finish the race.
I knew the last leg well, I had
ridden it many times before, and I was not looking forward to it. Finally, I
decided to ride until time was up, then call. Before I left, I warned my wife
that I would not stop to text or call with updates on my progress. Simply have
her phone on so when I did call, she could come pick me up.
Leg 4 Cottonwood Falls to Emporia:
Riding by yourself, at night, after
you have already ridden 150 miles is quite an experience. I never saw another
rider in front of me or behind me the entire last leg. If I would have caught
someone, that probably would have helped mentally. It’s a good thing no one
caught me, because that would have crushed me.
Road V, west of Lake Kahola sucked
as usual. Every time I had to walk a hill, the chances of me finishing dropped
dramatically. And I walked a lot of hills. At least the view was great. Huge
crescent moon and tons of stars.
Just north of the lake I was riding
along and my front wheel caught a rock and I crashed hard. I ended up on my
back looking up at the stars. What an amazing sight. I need to get out there
more. After a couple of minutes I realized that nothing was broken, just some
blood, so I checked my bike out, and nothing broken on it either. Damn! I
thought I could stop now. I remember earlier in the day considering taking a
dive on a downhill just to be done, but figured it may scratch up my bike.
So I plodded along, deciding to go
to the Northern most point of the course and call for a ride. I forgot to
mention that somehow I could not figure out how to get my GPS to give me
turning directions the entire day until the last leg. That saved me. Mentally I
was shot, and looking at my computer and seeing speed, distance, heart rate,
and the time would just mess with my mind. I found a screen that simply told me
where the next turn was. When I reached the North end of the course I was sure
I had less than 30 minutes left until cutoff and around 25 miles to go. No way
I could make it. I allowed myself to peek at the time remaining and DAMN! More
than 2 hours left. Are you fucking kidding me! Just enough time to possibly
make it, if I could average somewhere around 11mph or so. I was so far gone
mentally and physically, I could probably only maintain around 7mph at best,
but what the hell. Keep rolling forward.
On a side note, I was amazed by how
many turtles and snakes there are out on the gravel roads at night. Hundreds of
them. I would also like to thank the group that was sitting in their front yard
North of Americus still cheering us on. I think they were shocked someone was
still on the road, but they cheered for me just the same.
I only stopped one more time. When
rolling through Americus I decided to not look at the time and just finish this
damn ride, no matter what time I crossed. At least I could say I rode the full
200. Less than 5 miles out my legs locked up for the billionth time. I had to
stop and take something. I was freaking out because I figured the time was
going to be extremely close, and that this last stop would keep me from
finishing by the deadline, if it had not already passed. I knew my family was
probably worried to death, but I could not take the time to call them. They
would just have to sweat it out.
Finish Line:
When you finish as late as I do,
the crowd and festivities are long gone. However, there are a few lone
stragglers there to cheer you on and it is greatly appreciated. I could hear my
daughter screaming at the top of her lungs. I saw my wife running to the finish
line. From their point of view, with each passing minute it looked like I was
not going to make it. My wife had seen me at Cottonwood Falls, and it did not
look good. Unbelievably, as I entered Commercial Street the finish line was
still up and as I rolled across the finish line, I simply looked at Kristi Mohn
and said, “did I make the cutoff.” Pure shock when she said yes. My head simply
collapsed on the bike and my daughter tackled me while my wife gave me a hug
and a kiss.
It’s a good thing I did not stop to
take a photo out by Kahola. I would not have made the cutoff. It is also a good
thing I was able to finish. My phone was dead. I am not sure how I pulled off
that last leg. Hell, I did not even convince myself I was going to finish until
the last 10 miles. I think I told Tim Mohn that this is the stupidest thing I
have ever done.
I think only six riders finished
after me. I have the upmost respect for every rider who even had the balls to
show up and compete, whether you finished or not.
The Aftermath:
Sunday: PAIN! Can’t walk, can’t
eat. I wanted to go to the Riders breakfast, but did not feel good. I threw up
just a little bit later. First good decision I have made in a while. Thank God
I am never doing that again. Two-time finisher. That’s enough for me. The
Half-Pint is still a big challenge, but I know I can do that and still enjoy
the rest of the festivities downtown.
Monday: The second day after is
always the worst for me. More pain. I look like I should be in a wheel chair. My
wife had to put my socks on for me. Went to work, but did not accomplish much.
I am now feeling the pain from my wreck in addition to my legs. However,
somewhere during the middle of my day, a thought creeps into my mind…wouldn’t
it be cool to finish in less than 18 hours? I must have hit my head really hard
when I crashed.
Tuesday: I woke up feeling much
better today. Still real sore, but put my own socks on today. Perhaps I could
get back on my bike today. Time to start training for my next DK!
Also, I had the chance to ride for
the Mulready’s cycling team. I was honored to wear the jersey, I am only sorry
I did not finish in a more respectable time. Teammates Rick, Jeff (3rd
in age group), Troy, and Smitty all had great rides. Many of my best friends
participated in the DK either as a rider, support crew, or volunteer. I thank
you all for making it one of the most moving experiences of my life.
Why?
The most common question I get
asked is “why?” People who do not ride, or even people who do, ask why. I have
heard many answers. “Because I can.” “For the challenge and adventure.”
I am not sure of my answer. It is
definitely not “because I can,” because I am still not sure that I could again.
It is the hardest thing that I have ever had to do in my life other than being
a parent. I will never be fast. I will never challenge for the win. I might not
ever cross that finish line again.
I am simply fascinated by the
mental and physical battle. Physically, it is almost beyond my reach. Mentally
as well.
Simply put, it changes you. I like
the change it has made in me. Except for these damn cramps! Now my hands are
cramping from typing so much.