I described last year's Gravel Grovel as the hardest one I had raced up to that time. My 2014 self had no idea what was in store for this year's version and in all honesty, I had to force myself to write this post.
So to get the bad news out there at the beginning, I DNF'ed. Not the way I wanted this race to go, especially after the good result from last year, but it did. And here is how it went down.
As you can tell from the prior, pre-GG weather posts, there had been a lot of rain leading up to race. It rained all day Friday and all morning Saturday. I arrived at the venue about 40 minutes before race time and found a much smaller crowd than in past years. I had been watching the registration numbers leading up to race day and numbers were down. Registration closed with 208 participants. signed up for the 60 mile race. Of that, 120 riders finished, although no listing of DNF's was provided but there appeared to be quite a few no show's due to the adverse weather conditions. Last year, 246 started while 190 finished.
The rain had dissipated and actually stopped at the start of the race. I had bought a new Endura rain jacket for the ride and also was wearing by Lake 303 boots. Wind proof and water proof, I also used a foot warmer just to ensure my feet stayed warm. I also had a spare set of gloves in my jersey pocket.
The start was the standard fast spin along broken pavement before the left turn onto the gravel. I moved myself forward to a position near the front and made sure to pace off of some other fast mountain bikers. Once on gravel the pack I was in broke away from the rest of the field and kept a good pace. The paved climb up Hunters Creek Road fractured the group a bit although it reformed at the top of the hill.
The conditions were wet with lots of muddy spray from the other riders. Wish more people used fenders in conditions like these. Anyway, the pack rocketed down Tower Ridge Road, and I began to drop back a bit, because I was being a little cautious on the slick descent. I wasn't too worried. Still lots of off road sections and climbing ahead and I had gone out of the gate faster than what may have been good.
After the descent the course breaks off and takes a side road past Robertson Cemetery. This road is dicey. It is low and close to a creek and can be underwater after heavy rain (Like the Death March earlier this year). It wasn't underwater, but it did have tons of huge puddles and numerous pot holes. This slowed me down and helped me lose the lead pack. Just after getting onto Combs road I was caught by a group of four riders, including a few mountain bikes. I stuck with them heading into Combs, but things started going downhill. I was expecting it to be underwater, and from the get go, it was.
Water was flowing down the trail and I took some less than favorable lines through deep water and mud, while also passing multiple riders on cross bikes who had stopped for flat tires and other mechanicals. So far, my boots were keeping the water from the course at bay, I even recall thinking how warm and comfortable my feet were as we entered Combs Road. Famous last words...or thoughts. Or whatever.
Just before the stair step climb to the top of Combs was a large water crossing which was so deep that as I pedaled through it, my boots were actually underwater. No the Lake 303's do very well in most circumstances. They keep the cold and rain out, and handle splashes from puddles. But when fully submerged, even the Lakes say uncle. As I exited the crossing I could feel water seeping in from the tops of my boots. Feet were still warm but the water was there.,,
I continued on with the same group as we started the steepest part of the climb. I was surprised that the shitty trail to the top was actually still solid. Some slick spots, but mostly doable. Around halfway up the climb the trail is split by a large washout trench, the result of heavy rains running down the hillside. The trail runs to the right of this 1 1/2 to 2 foot deep trench. As it turns out, I ended up in this ditch,
I was still riding up the climb when I hit a slightly off camber section of the trial which was slick with mud. My rear tire gave way and slid and I tried to clip out to stop my fall. Unfortunately, I was falling to the left....where the washout was. So clipping out was not going to help. And down I went. Hard.
For a slow speed up hill crash, I hit really hard and ended up with my head resting on the other side of the trench, most of my body in the washout, and the bike partially on the trail.
After figuring out nothing was broken, I started to run up the hill and remounted on one of the 'steps' on the climb and continued to the top and the descent from Combs. Which was just as wet and muddy as the first portion. Following Combs was last year's new section which followed the closed Blue Creek Road west of Elkinsville for a few miles. It was one of those lulls where you take stock of your status, and I realized that my left leg was hurting. As was my shoulder. My left side took the brunt of the fall into the rut on Combs. While the adrenaline of the moment had masked the pain initially, things were starting to come to the forefront.
Included in Blue Creek Road was a steep climb which I was able to climb fairly well although the leg pain was progressively getting worse. The following old road bed/off road section was alternatively kind of dry or water covered. At one point my front wheel sank into what I had thought was a solid grassy patch but was instead thick mud. I ground to a halt and when I dismounted to get out of the mud pit, my boots sank almost to the their tops in the mud. Ugh. The last few hundred feet of Blue Creek Road was through a creek. Last year, this creek was mostly dry. During pre-riding, it was completely dry. On this day...it was full of water. My bottom bracket was fully submerged, and with each pedal stroke, my boots were completely under water. This did not help the cold feet situation,
My moral was starting to suffer. Physically, I was hurting, and coming into the Nebo Ridge Trail head, my bike's chain was making an awful racket. I was hoping it could last until the SAG stop at the halfway point, but just as I came into the Nebo Trail parking lot, there was sickening grinding sound and my drive train locked up. I dismounted and found that my chain had some how doubled back over itself three times and was jammed into my front derailleur. A few minutes of cursing and tinkering revealed that several links were locked. Almost like they had been welded together, they were no longer moving. I had a small bottle of Pro Gold on me, so I lubed the bad links and a few minutes later was able to back the chain out of the derailleur and get things moving.
During this stop, I realized that my part in the competitive race was done. My leg was starting to swell and was hurting badly anytime the road moved upwards. Plus, the mechanical was concerning and not like to be the last, and the cold had already taken care of my feet, and was leaching into my hands and the rest of my body. I could still finish, but last year's result would not be repeated.
I pressed forward, hoping to at least finish and things went fairly well on Nebo, other than the pain in the leg, and the lesser pain in the shoulder. I kept up a steady pace and didn't crash on all the slickness. I was passed by a few other mountain bikes which ticked me off, but I wasn't in shape to chase. About halfway through Nebo, it began to rain. Nothing heavy, but steady. And while my jacket kept the rain out, the cold water on the outside of the jacket did a good job of finishing off the cold takeover of my body.
I exited Nebo and hit Barry Ride Road. I slowed briefly to take a gel, although I figured it was too late, and ran into Michael, a regular in the DINO Cat 2 ranks. He too seemed cold, but was doing better than I. He paused to eat, and while it would have been nice to ride with him, a that point I didn't want to stop until the SAG.
But, as I rode down Berry Ridge, I began to take stock. My hands were blocks of ice (despite a glove change), as were my feet and lower legs. My boots still had water sloshing around. The cold had spread everywhere and I was beginning to shiver, even while pedaling at a steady speed.
I called up the map of the area in my mind, and I knew I had a decision to make. Just before Houston Indiana, there is a fork in the road. Going straight, I will head towards the largest climbs of the day, namely Mount Baldy and the Buffalo Pike climb. Could I realistically finish the race as I was sitting right then? I was doubtful. Alternatively, if I turned right onto W. County Road 1000, I would end my race and cut off about 20 miles of course as I headed back past the Maumee intersection and up Tower Ridge and back to the start/finish.
These options kept playing around in my head as I knew the miles were ticking down. In looking at the pro's and con's of both courses, one thought hit me. Was continuing on the smart thing? Was pushing on for a possibly epic, yet very low ranked and potentially health adverse finish, smart? Or was taking the right turn and getting my damaged self home asap the smart thing to do?
I turned right and headed home.
I was afraid I would look back on this and think, "You could have finished." But I haven't at all. I'm happy with my choice. Yes, many others, including some riders who I know are not as strong as I, finished that day.
But sometimes you have bad days on the bike, days when things do not go as planned, and you are far from being 100%. That is part of bike racing, and during these times, you have to be able to listen to your body, make smart decisions, and know when to fold'em. So I folded, got warm, recuperated, and am very much at peace with my decision to retreat from the field. There will be next year.
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