Last week I rode the 2004 Rocky Mountain 1200. It is a ride of about 760 miles, starting in Kamloops, British Columbia. In preparation and training for the Furnance Creek 508, I rode it on my fixed gear bike, a style of riding which allows a single gear selection and no coasting. Here is my ride report.
It's Tuesday morning and I'm still waiting for my luggage, including my bike. The lost luggage phone line has been busy for hours, but finally a call comes through to announce that my bag will be delivered to the hotel in a couple of hours. Bag? Not bags? I worry that my either my gear or my bike will not be delivered. When the delivery guy arrives, he has only my duffel bag. Another call to the lost luggage finally gets through and they confirm that my bike has also been found. It's delivered later that evening by a girl who's dragged it all the way to our second floor motel room. I tip her for her efforts.
Aside from the hour or so it takes to assemble my bike and arrange my gear, David Bundrick and I just chill out. I read John Irving's "A Prayer for Owen Meany", watch some of the Tour de France, and sleep. We both bank a lot of sleep prior to the ride.
The next day, David and I ride to the bike inspection, which is pretty laid back. I learn there's another fixed gear rider -- Sam, from Brooklyn -- who's going out with the 90 hour group. There's also a single speed rider (1 gear with coasting) who rode his bike 450 km from Vancover. At the inspection, I got one of two reactions, depending on the nationality of the observer:
American: Are you f--king crazy?
Canadian: So, you're f--king crazy, eh?
I was somewhat surprised by the reaction, especially
since Kent Peterson has already established precedent (twice!) by riding his fixie on this course.
At the bike inspection, the voluteers are careful to
explain that it's a L-O-N-G way between services. To
us dunderheads from out east, we learn not to expect to
find a 24-hour service station every 20 miles. Indeed,
enroute I saw a sign that said: Next Services 158 Km.
Afterwards, David and I had lunch with the Kaiser brothers.
Our motel was less than 10 miles from the start, but it was
all uphill -- some sections pretty steep. I was glad we got
a good rate on the room.
Kamloops (0 km)
Thursday, 4:00 am
I woke up at 2:00 am feeling well rested. The temperature
was slightly chilly, but I didn't bother with arm warmers
or a vest. Some riders were wearing jackets and tights.
I mixed up a double dose bottle of Sustain Energy
for the first leg, but would use solid food for most of
the ride. For a while I was riding among Scott Ohlwiler,
Kevin Kaiser, and Will Roberts, the single speed rider.
I was particularly impressed with Scott, because even
though he was considering a 60 hour finish, he was carefully
managing his speed at this stage.
Clearwater (122 km)
Thursday, 8:45 am
It would have been nice to draft other riders, especially
with the headwind, but I didn't want to waste energy spinning
to keep up on the slight descents. By the time I reached
the first control at Clearwater, the temperature was still
comfortable. I topped off my water and grabbed a tuna
sandwich. There was a limit of one sandwich and cookie
per rider, presumably so the slower riders have something
to eat by the time they arrive.
Supposedly we were to experience a really bad 2.2 km section of
road around kilometer 74, but it has just been repaved. Nice.
The local population, never very dense, has dropped as we
see no more farms, just forest.
Blue River (228 km)
Thursday, 1:23 pm
More headwinds on the way to Blue River. I'm not drafting
off of anyone, but I do better against a headwind on my
fixed gear than on a geared bike. We're gradually gaining
elevation, but at such a slow rate it doesn't even feel like
climbing. This is big, open country. The scale is enormous
for those of us who do most of our riding east of the
Mississippi.
The scenery is beautiful. We're riding on the shoulders of
Highway 5, along the Thompson River. A major railway
parallels the road and the trains pass us throughout the
day. Despite all the eye candy, the riding itself is
somewhat boring. Pretty flat with hardly any hills, much
less major climbs. Flat is boring and uncomfortable on
a fixed gear.
By the time I reach the control it's pretty hot and I've
almost run out of water. At the Blue River control, a
Husky Service station, I grab a couple of bananas, a
sandwich, and refill my Camelbak and water bottle. For
the next 90 km there will be no services and no habitation.
Tête Jaune Cache (338 km)
Thursday, 6:16 pm
Around 326 km, I stop at Tag's to get some more water. Other
riders are there who've passed me since Blue River. On my
fixed-gear, I can't maintain contact with even the slowest
riders. Just before the control I've turned onto Highway 16,
which will take me on into Jasper.
At the Tête Jaune Cache control (french translation: Yellow Head?)
control, I notice that Kevin Kaiser is riding with Jim Solanick
and a couple of women from Miami. Jim recommends the soup,
but I opt for a salmon bagel instead. The facilities are
rustic, yet comfortable. One of the volunteers tells me that
we're very lucky this year to get a full view of Mt. Robson.
For the past five rides, it has been obscured by clouds. I
make an effort to stop and take some photos during the climb
up Mt. Terry Fox Lookout.
About 10 kilometers out, one of the girls with Jim and Kevin
is laying on the road. She apparantly hit a rock that had
rolled down the mountain onto the shoulder. This is a hazard
for both cyclists and motorists. I stopped and waited a
while, though there was nothing I could do since everyone
else had the situation in hand. Jim Solanick gave up his
ride so he could escort Melanie to the hospital.
At this point Kevin and I decided to ride through the night
together. I might slow him on the descents, but after the
crash he'd just witnessed, Kevin is probably happy to ride
slow downhill.
A short while later, I stop to take some photos of a
couple young moose. Many of the riders saw bears, but
I never did.
Jasper (443 km)
Thursday, 23:32 pm
Shortly after 10:00 pm, Kevin and I reach the Jasper
Park Gate. The girl at the gate just waves us through,
having seen all the earlier riders pass. It's too dark
to see anything other than the road in front of us, so
the scenery gets unnoticed.
At one point Kevin is in front of me and doesn't notice
a grazing elk until the critter raises his head. With
antlers of a 2 meter span, Kevin is lucky that he doesn't
get impaled. The elk then scurries into the brush.
Jasper is a busy control. This is where many of the riders
will bed down for the night, so there is a constant flow of
riders coming in or going out. Kevin and I note that David
Bundrick is still making good time. I stop for an extended
sit-down meal, my first of the ride: fruit, mashed potatoes,
macaroni & cheese, cottage cheese. After filling up with
water, I leave with Kevin.
It's quiet For the first time in our ride, since this portion
is closed to trucks. Kevin and I are riding at a conversation
pace, which helps to keep us alert. As the night progresses,
we get closer to Beauty Creek, and the temperature drops --
both due to the late evening hour as well as our slow,
gradual ascent. I tend to babble on at night to stay
alert, though afterwards I can't recall what we talked
about.
I'm wearing two upper layers, plus arm warmers and glove
liners. It's chilly, but not uncomfortable. I'm
saving my tights until after the Beauty Creek control,
because I don't want to stand around in wet tights.
Beauty Creek (530 km)
Friday 5:05 am
As we get closer to where the control was supposed to be,
we're worried that we might have missed it -- the entire
region looks devoid of any habitation. Finally a gravel
road leads us down to a rustic hostel. Although it lacks
water and electricity, the volunteers have rigged up heat
in the cabin and are cooking up ham, pan fried potatoes,
hot cakes, scramble eggs, and hot chocolate.
Dave Brundrick had slept briefly there and we met him
as he was leaving. We had a nice breakfast and I put
on my tights. We were now headed through the Icefields
and into some actual climbing. With the snow covered
mountains surrounding us, we feel like we're riding
through a refrigerator.
About 10 km out we started climbing Sunwapta Pass (2035m).
This is the one climb I was especially interested in, because
Kent Peterson had to walk it both times. There is a
steep 3 km section, then a drop, then a less steep 10 km
section. After hearing all the horror stories about it, I
was pleasantly surprised that it could be readily ascended
in my 42x17. Though not a cakewalk by any means, it was
less difficult than other steep climbs I've tackled this
year.
Around the 600 km mark, I think we stopped at a restaurant
and picked up some food and water. Our next climb was up
Bow Pass, at 2065 meters, the highest point in our ride.
The climb was under the hot sun with fast traffic passing
close by the whole way up. I stopped twice just to get
in the shade briefly and off the road. Our shoulder
narrowed as we got closer to the summit and the grade
got steeper. We saw numerous cyclo-tourists with red
panniers heading down in the opposite direction. Once
upon the summit of Bow Pass, we more or less descended
for the next 45 km into Lake Louise.
Lake Louise (676 km)
Friday 1:58 pm
Kevin and I were joined by Scott at Lake Louise. He'd
had a spoke break earlier in the ride, which explained
why he'd not caught up with us sooner. We decided that
the three of us would try to stick together through the
night.
My original plan had been to make it to Golden within
40 hours, but it no longer looked practical. I would
have to cover 136 km in 6 hours. This would not be a
problem on a geared bike, especially with the 80 km
descent down from Kicking Horse Pass.
But weighing the options of making an all out dash for
Golden over the next 6 hours and spending the next 20
hours of riding with my friends, I chose the latter.
I was close enough to my 40 hour goal that I felt I
could make some adjustments in the interest of enjoying
the remainder of the ride.
It was incredibly hot when we left Lake Louise, but
Scott promised that we'd soon be in some shade. Scott
had already drove through this section with his family
before the ride.
Storm Mtn Lookout (Castle Junction) (701 km)
Friday 4:01 pm
The route to Castle Junction is really just an out-and-back
detour to help fill out the 1200 kilometer distance, and
we would pass close by the Lake Louise control on the way
to Golden. At the control we just nibbled a bit, having
eaten our fill at Lake Louise. A couple of cute girls
passed us on the way in, one of whom was the daughter
of the control official.
Even at this point, I could have possibly hammered into
Golden by 8:00 pm, but given the nice pace and pleasant
company, there didn't seem to be much point.
However, Scott had convinced Kevin that it was still possible
to complete the entire ride in under 65 hours. This is one of
Kevin's 1200K goals. I was thinking that it was possible,
but worried that I'd slow them down on my fixed. As long as
they didn't mind waiting for me on the descents, or hammer
too hard on the flats, I was willing to join them, though
privately I had my doubts that I could last 65 hours without
sleep.
Just before 6 pm we got to the top of Kicking Horse Pass. I
didn't know it at the time, but virtually the remainder of
the leg would be downhill (65 km) until we reached Golden.
The descent seemed to go on forever. It would taper off
for a while, then you'd descend again for several kilometers.
The shoulder would occassionally turn into gravel or just
disappear.
Golden (811 km)
Friday 9:35 pm
Just a few kilometers before we arrived in Golden we climbed
up a steep bridge, partially still under contruction. Scott
had a bad time of it and had to stop. He was feeling pretty
sick and we had to slowly limp into Golden. Scott checked
into a motel there and even called his wife to stop by.
I was worried that if Marlene came out to see him, Scott
would be tempted to quit. I wouldn't know until after
the ride that Marlene had wisely refused to come out
to Golden, thus removing the temptation, and Scott resumed
his ride the next morning.
At Golden the mosquitoes were particularly bad and had
managed to infiltrate the interior of the control
building. The control had a working kitchen, and I
tried a local dish known as a "wifesaver". It consisted
of a casserole sandwiched between toasted bread and
covered with some crunchy wheat flakes.
At this point Kevin and I faced a decision. I wanted to
ride with Kevin, but worried that we'd need some sleep
before long. We'd already gone for 42 hours, and the
next control at Revelstoke was 150 km away. While
Kevin lay down, I took the opportunity to take a
shower, shave, and change into fresh clothes. Although
the RM1200 permits riders to have up to 3 drop bags,
I deliberately used only one and had it delivered here.
My idea was that the thought of fresh clothes and a
shower in Golden would keep me motivated to continue
on until I arrived.
I arranged to have the same 11:30 wakeup time as Kevin,
so we'd be back on the road soon. I think the preemptive
nap paid off later, as we were able to ride through the
night and into the next day.
By midnight we were back out the door, but were still
a bit fuzzy in the head. We got off route and out of
frustration had to go back to the control and carefully
count off kilometers, turn by turn to get to Hwy 1.
As we left Golden, we were pitched into darkness,
punctuated by trucks passing in both directions.
We couldn't see any of the country and there was
no frame of reference aside from the white line
dividing the road from the shoulder. The night
was slightly chilly, though not unpleasantly so.
I had to stop constantly to pee every 30 minutes,
for some reason. At least I was getting rehydrated,
recovering from the heat from the previous day.
At one point we got off the main road by following
the white line. The reason I knew we were off course
is that we had gone for almost a full minute without
being passed by a truck. (The road was that busy, even
at 2:00 am.) Backtracking, we'd noticed a fork in the
road covered with dirt.
We can tell by the sounds of water that we're crossing
a river, but never see it. Most of this portion is
steady climbing which suits me fine, though it obviously
affects our speed. At one point, just before sunrise,
I hit a low spot. I've been here before and just back
off from Kevin so I don't run into him. I focus on
breathing and try to avoid (sometimes unsuccessfully)
potholes. If I keep on riding, this fugue state will
pass, especially as the sun appears.
An old Roger Miller tune, unbidden, enters my consciousness
and won't let go:
Trailer for sale or rent
Rooms to let...fifty cents.
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain't got no cigarettes
Ah, but..two hours of pushin' broom
Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room
I'm a man of means by no means
King of the road.
About 80 km into this leg the sun starts to appear and I've
become more alert. I talk to Kevin, but he's unresponsive,
maybe he's just hit the same low energy patch I've travelled
about an hour ago. Soon we're encountering the first of
5 tunnels. The trucks never slow down and it's somewhat
scary sharing the road with them in these confine quarters.
I jumped ahead of Kevin in one tunnel so I can take a photo
of him emerging. It's interesting that these aren't tunnels
that take you through anything. Their purpose is to protect
the roads from avalanches.
After some slightly steeper climbing we make it to the top
of Rogers Pass. At the summit we stop at is the only store
(fortunately open 24 hours) on this leg. I eat some cold
pasta and a soft drink. Kevin's somewhat bummed about our
progress. We have been moving pretty slow, but we've been
doing almost nothing but climbing since we left Golden.
I'm sure our speed will pick up with daylight and the
descent over the next 65 km.
Revelstoke (959 km)
Saturday 9:15 am
I work hard on the descent into Revelstoke. It's finally
starting to seriously affect my riding ability as the saddle
interface is getting very painful. Kevin is having to
wait for me and that's no fun for him. Several riders pass
us as I slowly descend. We pass through 3 more tunnels on
the way down.
As we approach the city of Revelstoke, the sun is already
intense. It's going to be a scorcher of a day with the
forecast of over a 100 degrees. We make a few turns
through the city and find ourselves at the Revelstoke
Curling Club.
At the control everyone is friendly and eager to serve.
I order a veggie wrap and some pasta while gnawing
through chunks of watermelon and cantelope slices.
As Kevin swaps stuff with his drop bag, I apply sunscreen
and fill my Camelbak with ice. One of the volunteers
has updated me with the Tour de France. Lance has won
yet another stage (3 in a row) and is unstoppable. By
10:00 we're back on the road and exit Revelstoke in a
slightly different route than we arrived.
About 20 km into this leg, I call out to Kevin. I'm having
a hard time keeping up with him. We stop and my front tire
is squishy, the victim of a piece of wire causing a slow
leak. I remove the wire and change the tube. We're sitting
directly under a hot sun, but there's no shade available
anywhere. A passing SAG vehicle offers me the use of their
floor pump, but I've already inflated it with my C02. Kevin
and I both are aware of how lucky we've been to have so few
flats over the past 1000 km, considering that we're been
riding road shoulders almost exclusively.
Soon we encounter bridge construction and traffic is backed
up for a couple of kilometers. Fortunately we can navigate
pass the motorists along the shoulder until we reach the
one way barrier. As the flag motions us through, we sprint
to keep up with traffic. At one point Kevin loses me and
waits up after we clear construction.
At this point I know I'm seriously slowing him down and
things won't get any better. He's given me Ibuprofen
about a half hour ago, but I'm in major saddle hurt
and can't keep up with even our ridiculously slow pace.
I tell him to go on, so he a still manage a sub-70 hour
ride time.
For a brief spell, clouds appear and it even looks like
I might be in for a welcome shower. Nothing emerges
however, and I'm still riding under the hot sun. After
another hour I pull off the road and find a wooded grotto
to rest under the shade. My first intention is just to
get off the bike, but with no mosquitoes to pester me
I decide to take a brief mid-afternoon nap. I'm woken
about a hour later by a couple of other randonnuers
who are looking for a place to pee.
It's a slow gradual descent into toward 97A. A dry hot
wind is blowing. I ride for several kilometers beside
Mara Lake and even consider joining the kids for a quick
dip. The terrain is flat and I wind through dusty farm
roads of Grindrod as I slowly count off the kilometers.
The vegetation has a husky sweet aroma -- vaguely unpleasant
to inhale as I'm associating the smell with heat and saddle
pain.
Enderby (1072 km)
Saturday 4:04 pm
I ride through the town of Enderby looking for the
Enderby Drill Hall. A local assures me that I'm heading
in the right direction. The Enderby control is listed
as a "mini-control" since it is on the extrema of the route
and minimal services are offered. However, one of the
voluteers fills my water bottles and offer me split-pea
soup. This should be enough to get me to the next control
in Salmon Arm, only 25 kilometers away.
Salmon Arm (1094 km)
Saturday 5:49 pm
I'm still hurting as I meander onto Salmon Arm, but comforted
by the fact that it's only 25 km to the control. After an
hour of slow pedaling, I encounter a steep winding climb. But
climbing isn't what's bothering me on this trip. Under the
midafternoon sun, however, I'm sweating buckets of water.
After the ride, one of the organizers discovered that the locals
refer to this section as the "Greenrod Grind", which might have
otherwise raised a warning flag. For much of the ride that
climb up to Salmon Arm was a topic of much rider conversation.
The final control was difficult to locate. The cue sheet
listed it as a "Recreation Centre", but neither it nor
the road was well marked. The route took us through
the backside, past a door with a small hand-lettered
sign that said "knock loudly".
Once inside, however, it was nice and cool. I sat down
and had some minestone soup, potatoes, fruit, and several
Cokes. The volunteers filled my water bottles and CamelBak.
with ice. One rider was soaking his feet in a bucket of ice
while he ate. I was in no hurry to push on, as I figured
the longer I delayed, the less heat of the day I'd have
to endure.
Soon after leaving the control, I had to make an urgent
pit stop. I stopped by the most filthy 7 Eleven store
I've ever entered, with food and trash on the floor. The
men's room had no toilet paper, so I eased into the ladies
facilities. It was a relief to exit that place.
The remainder of the ride can only be described as a
slow grind. I was kind of in "death march" mode, just
suffering through saddle pain and knee pain occassioned
by my constant efforts to ride out of the saddle.
About halfway through, there were no more climbs
and I experimented with all sorts of ways to relieve
the discomfort. I tried pedaling with one foot --
not practical with a fixed gear. I tried wrapping
a spare jersey around my saddle, which provided some
help, but the jersey wouldn't stay secure.
That same Roger Miller tune was humming through my head, so
I soon joined in singing out loud ...
Third boxcar, midnight train
Destination ... Bangor, Maine.
Old worn out clothes and shoes,
I don't pay no union dues,
I smoke old stogies I have found
Short, but not too big around
I'm a man of means by no means
King of the road.
Finally, I just started counting pedal strokes. I'd
get to 100 and start over. After each 5 km, I'd reward
myself with a brief respite off the bike and once stopped
at a store in a unsuccessful attempt to buy some ice to
sit on. Back on the bike counting pedal strokes, counting
of tenths of a kilometer, singing in my head the constant
refrain, "I'm a man of means by no means, King of the road".
About 25 km from the Kamloops, I noticed two of the European
riders that passed me by. Just for kicks and to try and
keep them in my sights I kicked up the pace until I caught
up with them. They were having a problem deciding how
far they were from the Kamploops exit and invited me to join
them. At first I kept getting dropped, but once I caught
up and pointed to my lack of derailler, the Italian said
something to the Italian and they slowed down on the descents.
I told the Finn that I didn't want to slow them down, but
they insisted that we ride in together. It was more painful
riding in this manner, but I figured it would soon be over.
Kamloops (1206 km)
Sunday 1:47
Finally, we started descending the last few street into the
Kamloops Curling Club. The bars were emptying and cops were
making sure nobody was getting into their cars drunk. At the
end of the ride I was offered my choice of a Coke or a beer.
I was incredibly hungry, not having anything to eat in the
past couple of hours, and expecting at least something waiting
at the end of the ride. Nada.
Kevin had arrived a couple hours ahead of me. Good. Even
better, there was a message from Marlene to call her. I hated
waking her up at 2:00 am, but thought I'd better check in.
She informed me that Scott had gotten back on the road and
would probably be in Kamloops early that morning.
I decided to find some food in town and located a Pizza
joint that stayed open until 4:00 am. Afterwards, I lay
down at the control waiting for Scott to arrive. In the
meanwhile, Marlene and her children had shown up to
welcome Scott, who arrives sometime after 6:00 am.
Afterwards, she drove me up to my motel where I showered
and slept until our post-ride party that afternoon.
Conclusion:
My final time was 69:47. I had two 60 minute naps during
the ride. The good news is that with preparation, I think
I can stay awake and on the bike 48 hours for the Furnace
Creek 508. The other good news is that I had no problems
climbing any of the RM 1200K hills (though the ones on the
508 will be more challenging). Even more good news is that
I've successfully cycled in similar dry heat conditions to
what the 508 will offer.
The bad news is the saddle interface. It seriously
limited my performance, possibly halving my potential speed
on a geared bike over the last 200 km. This was also the
most difficult part of the Georgia 600K brevet. By the
time I got home, I had chunks of scabs and dead skin peeling
off my raw arse. This issue must somehow be addressed
before the Furnace Creek 508. Suggestions are welcome,
but I already do the obvious things (change shorts, apply
lots of chamois butter, etc.)
I was seriously considering withdrawing from the 508
after this ride, but David, Scott, and Kevin said it
would be a waste to give it up the 508 after all my
training, so I will investigate solutions to this problem.
Aside from saddle pain (and knee pain resulting from
trying to stand and eliminate saddle pain) I felt great.
In terms of legs, lungs, etc. I could have continued riding.
Lest this end on a sour note, however, I should point out
that I did complete the ride in good spirits, on a fixed-gear,
in less than 70 hours -- ironically my best time ever for a
1200K ride.