The Story:
As the day approached, my nerves were on edge. Last year CP, GS and I had ridden the full 180k D2R2, and the second half was very hard for me. I gave up on the Corn Maze then, a short, delightful cool-down on an optional spur past the finish, but which I think is officially a part of our 180km route. One could build an excuse around hurricane Irene which had been drizzling on us for the last 10mi, and which would submerge the dining and parking areas under a foot of mud by morning. But really, last year's ride simply beat me and I couldn't wait to get off the bike as soon as the finish was in sight.Two days before the start, the forecast mentioned thunderstorms and I told another rider that if that threat persisted I'd drop out. Completing the full ride would establish my new longest ride ever, and since most of the miles are on dirt roads, a storm ride sounded too hard.
The morning of the ride, I woke naturally, 15 minutes before my 2:30 alarm, after some overnight tossing at the sound of thunderstorms. I thought again of CP who was in a tent at the start sleeping through this weather. A quick kale omelette and an nearly two hours of driving through drizzle got me to the start a little ahead of my plan, where I met CP for some food. I was feeling pretty good and decided to ride with CP until I fell off his pace. We had plenty of time to get ready for the 6:00 start time, and CP had a chat with Sandy, the dirt road guru and fan of covered bridges who designed the various routes of the event. I would learn through the day that CP knows many of the people here. The drizzle was tapering and Sandy predicted that in an hour the weather would clear. We're off!
Riding through Deerfield, MA at the start, we're on paved roads. CP immediately met Ca, a friend and fellow bike racer, and we became a group of three. A fourth joined the back and the conversation picked up. Ca told me about her ride last year with a friend who went on to win an important race the week after D2R2. We took a left over a long bridge which I didn't recognize, but our fourth said he was sure is correct. I tried to keep up with my cue sheet, listing the turns and distances, because D2R2 has almost no signs on the road. But inevitably I lost track as Ca and I traded stories, until my odometer said we were past the point of a T intersection I didn't see. By the time we backtracked to the correct trail, we'd enjoyed a 6.5 mile detour on relatively flat pavement. But we also landed behind a large number of riders who started after us but kept to the route.
On the first hard climb, Ca pulled ahead of me and that was the last I saw of her until dinner after the finish.
CP and I snaked up and down beautiful roads through forests and along farmland as the sky gradually lightened. While there were a couple wet areas on the gravel roads, I noticed that the moisture bound them together everywhere else so the dust and shifting stones of past years were gone. Climbing traction was perfect throughout the day.
After the famous "bobsled run" descent and over a short bridge, the cue sheet said hard right, and I vaguely remembered it from past years, but a pair of Jersey barriers closed that road. Another rider suggested a detour and I was able to confirm it with my GPS. Just after rejoining the cue route, we came upon a wire strung across the road and a small herd of cattle crossing just past it. A farmer was moving them to pasture and had a temporary fence system to guide them over the pavement. After they all crossed he took down the wires and we resumed.
After a water stop and a few more hills, we found the base of Archambo Rd. This may be the most famous tiny dirt road around, because it boasts a 27% climb, steepest grade of D2R2. I've learned a couple bits of physics about this slope. Even pro riders cannot start a bike on this, so once a foot goes down the rider walks to the top, as does everyone stuck behind him or her. Second, the rider must stay in the saddle or else the rear will slip and a foot goes down. Loose gravel will also cause a slip, and my first attempt 2 years ago scraped up both of my elbows that way. CP and I rode without other riders for miles after the water stop, guessing the clump we saw got stuck in the water line they had created there. But they swept along with us a mile or two before Archambo, so they hit the the steep ahead of us and all were on foot by the one-quarter mark. I dropped into my ultra-low gear and managed to stay on the saddle, but a clot of walkers blocked all of the road just ahead. I tried to say "let me through," but it sounded like a soft mumble mixed with my gasping for breath. CP came up behind me and called out properly, opening a path for us and he accelerated through the gap. That was the most impressive display of strength I saw all day.
In past years I walked the last half of Archambo, but the solidly wet gravel and my lower gearing got me all the way up. I might have given up at around 2/3 of the way, but a pair of cheerleaders there with ersatz trumpets encouraged us to stay with it. Too soon after that came an endless and steep climb that takes it out of me every year. Two years ago a cheerful stranger in a wool jersey told me that climb is the worst of the whole ride in his opinion, though most give Patten Hill that title. I now agree with him.
Then the difficulty moderated and I was enjoying the break when I recognized DB, a friend who was on a different D2R2 route with a group of other friends. I hadn't realized we were near lunch, but that's where all the routes converge, beside a red covered bridge in Vermont. We all rode together for the rest of the way, parked our bikes and enjoyed the unusually nice meal there.
The long climb immediately after lunch felt unnecessary, but a chocolate-covered espresso bean and another story with CP got us to the top and we were back into the ride. After a while there's a segment that makes me laugh, where we divert off a major road, go through a covered bridge then over two other bridges and rejoin the same road - an obvious longcut. But I'd forgotten that we almost encircle a beautiful old cemetery between the bridges, and I was moved to connect with those stones. And I did it in pigeon sign language in case CP was watching, and because silence felt right. I pointed to my chest, then to the headstones, then held up four fingers - one for each brief decade (max) which separates us.
This route is the only place I've ever ridden such long and tiring descents that I want to rest before bottom. Picture endless swooping gravel, where the rider must be vigilant for rock, ruts and potholes. In fact, there were places where we passed groups stopped to fix flats, lining both sides of the road! Yet the most fearsome of these is reserved for the end of the ride, which many call the 'mountain bike descent'.
But first we arrived at the base of Patten Hill, site of misery last year. One school of thought is this beast should be ridden as three individual climbs, separated by spans of less-steep climbing. But this year my gearing got me up the first (paved) section, and the damp gravel got me up the rest. Nearly to the water stop at the top, my homemade aluminum cue sheet holder broke off, certainly a victim of metal fatigue on the dirt descents. It fit nicely in my jersey pocket for the rest of the ride, and I felt lucky it didn't snap off at much higher speed.
Several slices of watermelon later, we were into the last segment of the ride, well ahead of last year's pace and in line with CP's informal goal for the finish. Early in the 'mountain bike descent' I built up confidence in bunny-hopping rocks and small erosion trenches, and took small jumps off the tips of boulders sticking through the surface. I decided I could hop anything there and eased off the brakes, swiftly passing a more cautious rider. Then a trick of the light hid the scale of a large erosion cut until I was nearly upon it, so my hop was late and underpowered. I managed to get the front wheel onto the road surface but the rear fell way short - ka-toom! After a moment's recovery, a roar escaped me, reasserting dominance over the road, and I finished the descent without further trouble.
Back on the pavement of Deerfield town, CP dropped down with his forearms on the bar, casual time trial style. I asked if he wanted to push to the finish and he said yes, shooting for an even 12 hours wall time. We missed that target by 3 minutes, then looked for our friends who had already finished dinner and gone home. Then we tacked on the corn maze which I found I could almost ride from memory of two years ago. And we were done.
The Stats:
Miles: 121 horizontal, 3 vertical.Hours: 10:25 moving, ~12:20 wall. (11.6 MPH moving avg)
Technical Jargon:
This year I brought full mountain bike gearing, with a 22:34 low gear. In past years I kept my road crank, yielding 26:34, but I needed lower to finish in relative comfort. Last winter it struck me that if I used the parts my MTB is currently wearing out, the long-term cost of the drivetrain for this ride is almost zero - it's all spare parts for the MTB. Top gear is 44:11 which was plenty. Changing over all this (twice!) for one ride is a lot of overhead for one ride, since it requires changing out the bottom bracket, front derailleur, chain guide and all the rest. I wouldn't do it for any other event.I've long been praising my frame for versatility, an Independent Fabrication Club Racer built around Shimano long-reach caliper brakes. It can be stripped down to a competent road configuration or can carry full SKS fenders over wider tires for winter commuting in reasonably good weather. But it only barely fits the 32mm Vittoria Cross EVO XG tires I used for this ride. I was sure I couldn't get fenders over those tires, until I mounted them the day before the ride, listening to the radio forecast of possible thunderstorms, and noticed there was some room under the brake arms. The fenders rubbed the tires badly at first, but after some persuasion with a heat gun and other adjustments I was happy with them and that's what I rode. At almost the last minute I noticed the front derailleur arm would crash into the fender in low gear, so I shifted into that position and got out the heat gun again, while pushing the fender forward over the derailleur. After it cooled and I let go, the fender sprang back a little to give the derailleur just enough clearance, and the fender retained a perfect bend to accept it. Custom fit!
Those tires are the same ones I've used for all 4 D2R2s I've ridden, plus about two prep rides each year. At this point the center knobs of the rear tire are nearly worn flat, but I think that was perfect for this year's wet conditions. I never needed rear knobs, and the remaining thin smooth contact strip was quite efficient. Knobs remain on the sides and front center, all helpful for cornering and stopping. I ran 72 PSI rear, 60 front, slightly higher than last year because of my fear of pinch flats. But standing pedal work felt bouncy enough that I wondered several times whether I was loosing air and should add some. Even after the ka-toom, the tires held air perfectly, so it's good that I never did add any air. I really like all the Vittoria tires I've tried. Count me lucky they don't make mountain bike tires, because I go through those faster than anything else and Vittoria prices would be rough. (And if they do make MTB tires, don't tell me!)
* Top picture is by CP, impressive camerawork while climbing! Foreground rider 448 is your humble scribe.
