Tomorrow, the Dirty Kanza kicks off in Emporia, Kansas - 200 miles of tough, tough gravel racing. After feeling pretty good at the Almanzo this year and reading the excited tweets in the run-up to the DK, I’ve pretty much convinced myself that I need to do this race, maybe as early as next year. I’m only more convinced by the note at the bottom of the 2012 course map: 

Trying to get some more miles in my legs before the West Side Dirty Benjamin on June 16 (less than three weeks away!), I took advantage of a slow day at the office to go for a metric century today. Conditions were nearly perfect: 70 degrees, a cool westerly wind, dry roads, and a great riding partner. I had a route in mind, but my cues (or my readings of the cues) were terrible, so we ended up choosing our own adventure, which turned out to be fantastic.

We covered quite a bit of new terrain, hit a few great favorite sections (including a magnificent minimum maintenance road), battled just enough headwinds to feel legit, and got back in less than four hours of riding time. And I felt so good the whole time - strong, fast, attentive. Some of it was the iced coffee I slammed at mile 40, but some of it had to be fitness generated by the Almanzo.

Plus also, we encountered a grader, doing the grading thing!

xxcmag:

Last November I flatted less than 10 miles into my first Iceman Cometh. I had an inflator, Co2s, and a tube, but no pump as a back up (dumb!). As bad luck would have it, the Co2s failed and I found myself walking along the course as racer after racer passed me. I was not happy.

Then a racer…

Seems about right.

(via beatsandbrushes)

thegrreatescape:

True

(via thirtyfivehundred)

101.46 - number of miles ridden

8:22:05 - gun-to-tape time (including breaks; compared to 9:08 in 2011)

7:08.39 - saddle time (compared to 8:29 in 2011)

153 - finishing place, out of 383 finishers (top 40%, compared to 82nd place out of 153 finishers in 2011 or the bottom 45%)

14.1 - average speed, in mph (compared to 11.5 mph in 2011)

38.6 - maximum speed, in mph, on the same descent where a guy in front of me unclipped his right foot and put it down on the gravel for balance

6400 - approximate number of calories consumed

35,000 - approximate number of pedal strokes (at about 80 per minute over the rolling time)

1 - excellent riding partners (thanks, Scott!)

4 - minimum number of truly brutal climbs, with Oriole Road and Masonic Park being the worst of the worst - 20% grade pitches, both in the last 10 miles.

3 - liters of plain water consumed (minimum)

4 - 20oz bottles of flavored water consumed

3 - cups of trail mix consumed

4 - horrible tan lines (two on my legs, two on my arms)

1 - falls, while clipped in at the 40-mile stop in front of a busy grocery store

0 - number of bonks. 

195 - bib number of the guy who rode the race on a unicycle

1. If you can’t actually go fast, trailing a camera moto is pretty pro, right?
2. Is dust a vitamin or a mineral?
3. What does a nice guy like me have to do to get into a group that lasts longer than five miles?
4. Is it better to finish ahead of someone who has a nicer bike than you, or a more expensive kit?
5. Did anybody send a thank-you card to the family letting riders take cold well water about halfway between Preston and hell?
6. Should a guy on a geared bike feel good or bad about passing a guy who’s walking his singlespeed up a hill?
7. Which was cooler: last year’s water crossing, or this year’s cyclocross bit at the same spot?
8. Riding the ‘Manzo on a fatbike: brave or insane?
9. Did the riderly camaraderie make the ride survivable, or enjoyable?
10. Which is steepest: the Oriole Road climb at mile 90, the Masonic Park climb at a little later, or the stairs at home on the day after the Almanzo?

THE DAY BEFORE
Vivi inflating my bike tires. 45psi worked great!

Vivi helping me make my trail mix, of which I brought way too much.

RACE DAY
The race’s staging area, full of cars and even fuller of bikes and riders. A great, inspiring sight.

At the start, racers packing in.

Me on the start line.

The only official stop, near mile 40.

A long descent, around mile 70, after the only checkpoint. I was snapping pictures while my partner fixed a puncture.

A minute after the kick to the line. (I finished second in the two-up sprint.)

A few minutes later, after a warm Coke (delicious!) and a slice of blueberry bread, I felt good enough to smile but not good enough to remember to unsnap my helmet.

My thighs and their ridiculous tan lines, a few minutes after finishing.

My weary bike and my mileage total.

Back at home, I broke my two-week beer fast with this glass of deliciousness.

THE DAY AFTER
I took a 20-minute recovery ride, paced by my riding partner…

I washed my bike, because pretty much all of it was covered in grit like this.

My carefully-chosen “reward” beer. An interesting drink…

gravel early 13c., from O.Fr. gravele ”sand, gravel,” dim. of grave ”sand, seashore” (Mod.Fr. grève), possibly from Celtic *gravo- (cf. Welsh gro ”coarse gravel,” Bret. grouan, Cornish grow ”gravel”), perhaps ultimately from PIE*ghreu- ”to rub, grind.”

As of 9 a.m. today, 120 hours remain until the start of the 2012 Almanzo 100 in Spring Valley, Minnesota. I think I’m ready. I’m wearing a cycling cap as much as I can. I’ve started tapering, partly by accident (owing to especially busy work and home schedules) and partly by design (skipping my gym workouts this week and doing some short but serious rides). I’ve laid off the beer till after the event (my last beer was a good one, though: a Surly Bender). I’ve planned for both carb-loading at midweek and for race-day nutrition. I’m trying to do some sleep doping. I have a long but manageable list of to-do items related to clothing, equipment, and bike. I have worked out transportation with a friend who is going to ride my legs off during the race. I’m picking up inspiration from this great book:

And I’m happy to see that the weather for race day won’t be as infernal as it was last year.

A faithful reader of this infrequently-updated blog recently requested a post on my cycling gear. Here it is. Reading this, keep in mind that I only have one bike (which is far, far too few) and that I use that bike both to commute day all year long and to do fairly long fitness rides, mostly off pavement. WARNING: rampant cycle-nerdiness.

BIKE
I ride a black Surly CrossCheck that is completely stock except for the points that touch the road, my butt, and my feet. The stock tires wore out pretty quickly, so I’ve experimented with different rubber. Right now, I’m running Continental Cyclocross Speeds, which are pretty good gravel-road tires. I went up from the regular 35mm size to the bigger 42mm size, which offers more float and grip than narrower tires. The tread handles everything except out-of-the-saddle climbing on steep sections.

The stock WTB seat caused quite a bit of discomfort, so I changed to the WTB Valcon Pro, a mid-range racing saddle which is very, very comfortable. Under my feet, I just need solid connection with the bike. I use a pair of flip-flop pedals – platforms on one side, for days when I’m commuting in regular shoes, but SPD clips on the other, for real riding. A shot of lube in the springs every now and then keeps them working well despite the fact that the pedals seems to collect more road grit than any other part of the bike.

In the winter, I put a pair of inexpensive Planet Bike fenders on the bike. They’re ugly and they require frequent maintenance (retightening the bolts that fix the fenders to the frame), but they’re good for keeping the road grit off.

BIKE EQUIPMENT
The CrossCheck is a great machine for long rides. In trying to find the right setup for long gravel rides, I’ve added quite a bit of stuff. The one item that I can’t live without is the cyclocomputer. I’m currently using an entry-level Specialized computer, and I can’t complain about it. It’s not very advanced, requiring a wire down to the sensor on the fork and displaying relatively few data (current speed, maximum speed, average speed, trip distance, trip time, cumulative distance), but it’s enough for me, and it’s very reliable.

Nearly as essential are my bags, all from Revelate Designs: a Mountain Feedbag on the handebars (phone, map/cue sheets, gels, maybe a candy bar), a Gas Tank on the top tube (solid food like trail mix and beef jerky), and a Tangle in the frame (a big water bladder on one side, extra food and a multi-tool on the other). I keep a spare tube and tire levers in a Fizik saddle bag, too. I could readily do a 50-mile ride with a couple bottles in my cages and some food in the Feedbag, but anything longer than that – or done in challenging conditions, especially heat – requires more water. Last year, I rode with a CamelBak-style “hydration system” (and raced with it during the 2011 Almanzo) but I was always dissatisfied with the way it worked. The weight of the water on my back did bad things to my shoulders, and I needed to dismount to get any food stashed in the backpack’s pockets. With the three bags, I can eat and drink without stopping at all. Theoretically. Sometimes my legs need to stop when my stomach doesn’t.

This year’s big addition was a good headlight: a NiteRider MiNewt 250. This little toy casts a wide, bright beam – so wide and bright that riders in front of me have mistaken me for a car. Even at the medium intensity setting, I get enough light in front of me to see the road at 20 mph. And from what other riders tell me, this light will last a long time. When I ride at night, I also run two inexpensive blinkie lights on my seatpost. The headlight allows me to be out and safe well past dusk, which carves a lot of riding time out of the day.

CLOTHES
A person can, of course, ride in just about any clothing less complicated than a wedding dress, and I do all my commuting in “office casual” clothes. I do all my fitness riding in true cycling clothes, though. I have done a fair amount of riding in, say, regular shorts and t-shirts, and I’ve found it just sucks. Wearing the right kit is worth it.

On my head, I wear a mid-range Giro helmet – not the lightest or best-ventilated helmet around, and now getting up in years, it’s still a perfectly good helmet. I always wear a cycling cap (my favorites are by Walz) under my helmet on the grounds that cycling caps are cool, that they help soak up sweat, and that they keep me from getting a headache from the helmet’s straps.

I try to always ride with something over my eyes – if not sport sunglasses like the sweet Rudy Project Ekynox that I won in a contest a few years ago, then clear or slightly tinted glasses. Eye coverings are necessary to keep out the sun, the rain, the road grit, the bugs, the wind…

I have a bunch of jerseys, and find it hard to fault any of them. I tend to like the jerseys that have softer fabric and busier designs, but beyond that, I don’t have many preferences among jerseys by Squadra, Louis Garneau, Craft, Nike, Twin Six, and some other companies. As long as there are pockets in the back and a zipper down the front, I’m happy. And often an underlayer is helpful: a thermal top on a cold or windy day, a super-thin ventilation layer on a really hot day.

If I treat my jerseys with equanimity, I’m very particular about what I put on my legs. I have a pair of entry-level Pearl Izumi shorts that are just not right. They don’t fit me well, and the chamois pad isn’t very good. I have a pair of Bontrager shorts that are the opposite: very comfortable in every respect. Likewise, my Bontrager knickers are fantastic. I’d wear them on every ride, if I could. (Only the knickers are “bib” style garments, but the over-the-shoulder bib is so comfortable that I’ll definitely buy bib shorts when I need to replace my current shorts.) If I’m going on an especially long ride, if I just need extra comfort, or if I’m wearing my (excellent) Craft tights for a winter ride, I put a pair of Sugoi short liners inside the outer garment. The double layer of chamois is wonderful. And any ride longer than two hours also merits some chamois cream. I needn’t detail its application, but(t) it’s great stuff.

I have acquired some rainwear, too: LL Bean’s entry-level Gore-Tex jacket and pants for commuting, a Sugoi rain jacket for other riding. The Sugoi is especially nice – perfectly cut for riding and really light and breathable. I haven’t actually used it much in the rain, but it’s done a great job in wind and cold.

At the extremities, I wear full-finger gloves and Shimano shoes. I have a pair of Performance gloves that are good, but a bit too heavy for really hot days. I prefer my pair of Pryme Specter gloves – light and minimalist, but very comfortable, even on all-day rides.

I don’t much care about socks, though breathable cloth is always better than cotton, but the more I ride, the more I value really good shoes. After the Almanzo ate my last pair of mostly-cloth Shimanos, I bought a pair of Shimano M087s, which are a dramatic improvement – mostly leather, with a nicely stiff sole and three straps to ensure a good fit. I’ve had no trouble with them at all, even when I have to replace the cleats, which happens at least once a season.

As I prep for a nice evening ride in 80-and-sunny conditions, I see the the 10-day forecast suggests that the weather for the Almanzo could be pretty freaking good.

Never, never, never give up. Superb racing at the Tour of Turkey.

This sounds awesome. I can’t do it, but it sounds awesome.

Chris “Almanzo” Skogen garners a richly deserved prize - gearjunkies.com ‘s EPIC Award - for his role in popularizing gravel-road cycling in Minnesota. Chapeau!