Crushed Gravel

Thanks to Luke and crew for the awesome photos.


It's funny that I've not ridden over 100 miles in over four years, not since I rode to Dayton, Ohio from Cincinnati in 2004 shortly after I got into cycling as sport. I've come close dozens of times, 89 miles, 96 miles, 97 miles, but never edged over the straight 100 mark. Time was the only reason why, because I've always carried good enough fitness to do 100+ with no problems and no preparation other than my usual training.

Scott from Team Hungry told me that I was an all-rounder when I went home last week. Maybe that means I'm kinda OK at lots of things, but not really great at anything. Makes sense, but I digress.

A while ago, drunk on Grolsch at an art opening in the West Loop with Allison I ran into Luke Batten, photographer, bike collector, and casual wearer of Rapha, and he told me something about a "Gentlemen's Race" of a century he was planning for the weekend after Memorial Day on the crushed gravel Fox River and Prairie Path trails. I was in, naturally.

Day of at 10 AM, at Luke's girlfriend's parent's place in Glen Ellyn, we congregated, slathered on chamois cream, and got ourselves ready to go. The group contained Luke, Ben Gill, Brooklyn Man, and Half Acre riders Patrick Kenny, Joe Schubert, and Isaiah Jay. Joining us for a few miles were some ladyfriends of our gruppetto, who turned off to buy Dairy Queen. At some points of the day I wish I broke off with them.

The first loop was at a moderate pace. As the group consisted of riders of varying abilities, things were kept at an even tempo. The trail traffic on the first loop was pretty bad, at least worse than I've seen out that way, which kept our speeds down a bit. We stopped at Sammy's Bikes in St. Charles for espresso and a chance to gawk at some CF Cioccs -- I may give up on steel yet.

With a KOM jersey in contention, I went after the two hills, both basically sprints up out of the Fox River valley. The first, I was impeded by strollers and caught second place; the second, a potholed Koppenbergian climb, I captured first.

One loop down at the trailhead, the girls brought along our "musette" bags, i.e. sandwiches and sodas that we'd brought with us for a picnic in the grass. Too soon, we were back on the bikes and split into two groups: HACT in one, and the artist crew in another. I felt exceedingly good and set tempo for much of the second loop, along with Isaiah. Took both KOM hills again -- the first, I outsprinted Isaiah and eased-off half way up the hill thinking he was out of gas. Turned around and saw him gaining ground, so I stepped back on it and rolled over the top with him coming up only seconds behind me. A bit closer than I like.

Coming back into Glen Ellyn, with about 15 miles to go, Isaiah and I put in a hard dig and broke off by ourselves, both working together. I still felt strong, likely due to peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Hammer Perpetuem. Isaiah and I rolled off the trail and as I lacked directions back to the house, I followed closely behind (plus, I was getting kinda tired at this point). I kept asking, "Are you sure we're going the right way? Are you sure?" I'm a doubter, my apologies.

Eventually, with house in sight, I sprinted to roll into the driveway first, thought I had it in the bag, but Isaiah cut me off to roll over the curb ahead of me. I'm no sore loser and I took comfort in knowing I had the KOM jersey, whatever it would be, wrapped up nicely, tied with a bow.

The rest of our ragged crew rolled in over the next few minutes -- everyone sunburned, sore, and covered in dust and sweat crust. But the best time was about to commence: a BBQ held in our honor, prizes, and kisses from our group of four lovely podium girls.

And funny enough, I managed to set my 5s, 30s, 1minute power records on this ride in my sprints up the hill, and 107 miles, 6 and 1/2 hours of riding, and 3,800 calories later, I'm surprised I felt as good at the end as I did.

Now I can't wait for next year.