TNGA Ride Report

358 miles
41,000 feet climbing
64 hours
1 gear

For those three days, riding was life.

No pics from the race; this was on a shakedown ride.

Day 1
I drank coffee and ate my over-night oats on the shuttle to the start. There would be no time for the morning paperwork. I started near the back but moved towards the front over the first couple hours while doing my best to take it easy. Entering Darnell Creek, my sunglasses were hanging on my jersey collar. I thought, "I'm going to lose these on this trail", and I did. Luckily, a guy a few minutes behind me found them, and I was able to get them back at the first stop in Dillard. I started off carrying ~3500 calories, what I thought it would take to get to Helen, which included 1.5 Chik-fil-a sandwiches, 4 Clif bars, 4 granola bars, a stick of beef jerky, a Payday, 2 bags of cashews, and 4 caffeinated GUs. Turns out I didn't even need half of that. I'd based my expected calorie/hour intake off of averages and digestion rates rather than experience. Now I know I probably only need 125 cal/hr. Still, carrying too much is better than running out.

I saw other riders fairly often, but riding the single speed meant I really had to ride my own pace. Talking with another rider at a water stop around mile 62, I asked if he had any goals for today. His response, "What do you mean by today?" My goals included getting down Hickory Nut in the daylight and getting to Vogal before crashing for the night. Riding a rigid single speed means rough descents are as bad as the climbs, sometimes worse. I took a beating coming down Trey; Hickory Nut was ok except for a few pedal strikes. I was looking forward to the next ~20 miles of smooth pavement even though it included Hogpen. I rolled into the gas station in Helen at 7:30pm in 7th place.

I felt surprisingly good at this point, much better than last time. I think this was due to staying on top of food/hydration. I wasn't all that hungry but made myself eat a little anyway and drink a coke. That caffeine boost would keep me going for several more hours.

Even though Hogpen sucked and took a solid hour to climb, it was a beautiful night, and there were some great overlooks and views of the sky. Going down the backside, a bear cub crossed in front of me right at the edge of my light. I don't know where momma was, but I wasn't sticking around to find out. Cruising on towards Vogal, I intended to check the time and consider stopping for the night when I got there, but when I saw the sign for the state park, I didn't even slow down. I went up and over Wolfpen and arrived at Cooper's Creek, mile 135, at 12:30am.

I still felt good and could've kept going. But pushing past this point meant I wouldn't hit any stores until Mulberry Gap at mile 212. I wasn't prepared logistically for that, so I slept in my emergency blanket until Cooper's opened at 6am.

Day 2
While the emergency blanket was warm enough, it also trapped all the moisture, so when I got up, I was wet and cold. I sat around drinking coffee until the sausage, egg and cheese biscuits were ready. I was very grateful for this, as it finally got my digestive track moving. I ate one biscuit, took one for the road, and started riding again around 7:30am.

Riding along the Toccoa River on a cool morning as the sun rose over the mountains behind me made me realize what an awesome event this is. The simple but intense existence of riding in silence for hours on end from sunrise to sunset to moonrise and under the starlight is a very meditative and spiritual experience. At times it's like the brain runs out of thoughts, and your world only consists of the bike, the trail, and pedalling.

I passed up the Iron Bridge Cafe and headed to the Aska Trails and Stanley Gap. After some awesome singletrack and a bit of hike-a-bike, I popped out on the smooth gravel road heading downhill towards Cherry Log. It's always exciting hitting ~35mph on a gravel road because any emergency maneuver just isn't going to happen and will end with you on the ground. I arrived at the Pink Pig, mile 165, right as they opened at 11am and stopped for a pulled pork sandwich and a chance to sit in the AC for a bit. I checked trackleaders and saw quite a few people had passed me in the night putting me somewhere around 14th. I wasn't terribly concerned though. A top ten finish would be cool, but I knew I had to do my own thing to finish at all. Pushing harder would likely get me in trouble.

I headed out 30 minutes later for the long trek to Mulberry Gap at mile 212. Highway 2 towards Dyer Gap seemed to go on forever as I spun along at 11 mph. I knew this would be a long stretch, but for some reason I didn't think about water until I was approaching South Fork. I had a bottle and a half left, and it was at least three more hours to Mulberry. My options were to get water on South Fork, preferably upstream of the horse poop or wait until I got to the top of Bear Creek. I decided to wait. Riding through South Fork, a big ole black bear showed me his ass as he ran off down the trail and into the woods. I stopped for a minute to let him get away, then proceeded cautiously, ringing my bell as I rode along. Of all the places to treat/filter water I didn't think it'd be so close to Mulberry. Iodine tablets made the water taste terrible, but it got me through Pinhoti 1 and 2.

I arrived at Mulberry Gap around 6:30pm dehydrated and hurting. I had felt pretty good up until a few hours ago, and that's when I realized that getting dehydrated after 20-something hours of riding makes every ache and pain ten times worse. I didn't want to stay there too long, but I'd have to stay long enough to rehydrate and charge my lights and GPS. It's difficult to leave the comfort of Mulberry. But, I wanted to finish Monday night, and the clock was ticking. So at 10:30pm, after drinking enough to make me pee twice and taking in a caffeinated GU and an Ibuprofen, I headed out into the darkness to put in several more hours.

My goal was to make it to Dalton, sleep at the start of The Snake, then hit it in the morning. I exited the single track around 1:30am and started the ~20 miles of road towards Dalton. Thirty minutes later, I got really sleepy and started looking for/thinking of places to sleep. The ditch sure had a nice angle to it, like a recliner. A bridge or overpass would be good for rain protection. Near any public building or park where I wouldn't be bothered and wouldn't bother anyone else would be ok too. But, I was in flat country and none of these things were around. Then, I passed a church. Hey, I thought, one of those would work. In The South, one is never more than a mile from a church. So I stopped at the next one I saw, laid down in a gravel/dirt area around back, and promptly slept in my clothes - shoes, helmet, gloves, and all - no emergency blanket this time.

Day 3
At 5am, I got cold and decided it was time to start pedalling again. I stopped at a gas station for coffee, a chicken biscuit, and a sausage, egg and cheese biscuit. I sat on the curb, eating breakfast and watching the morning commuters go by. At the start of The Snake, around 7am, I laid down for ~15 minutes to let that coffee kick in a little more. The next 30 miles were hell - mostly unrideable uphills followed by rough, slow descents. Some grades that should've been rideable just weren't worth the effort. On a particularly long descent, I was secretly hoping to slash a tire so I could call it quits and not have to ride anymore. I laid down for another 15 minutes to let my frustrations settle. Did I mention it was hotter than hell by this point, and I was practically swimming through the humidity? I came across some "Trail Magic" of a couple cases of water near a trailhead where I attempted to rehydrate, though I still had a bottle of my own.

As I approached the next water stop, a horse barn at mile 284, I felt rain drops. The sky looked decent, but dark clouds were hiding somewhere. A crack of thunder. The closer I got to the horse barn, the harder it rained until it was a full-on down pour. I went from overheated to shivering uncontrollably in about 5 minutes. When I finally got there, it was raining sideways, the horses in the pasture were freaking out, and I took shelter behind a hay bale under a large overhang, hugging my knees to my chest to warm up. I drank a couple bottles of water waiting out the storm. Being wet and cold brought about some new aches and pains, and I decided it was time for another Ibuprofen.

When I was pretty sure it was over, I started riding again, still soaked and shivering. I thought about trying to cut out/make a vest from my emergency blanket, but I knew I'd warm up on the next hill a few miles down the road.

I counted down the miles to Highway 27 (mile 302), where there is a gas station a little off route. But when I got there, I still had plenty of water, so I ate a soggy granola bar and pressed on. I was ready to get off the ridgeline and onto the rail-trail. The next section stretched on and on but included some fairly nice singletrack. Eventually, I hit the switchbacks that led off the ridge. I was finally out of the mountains and in the flats that led to Coosa - mile 326, Cave Spring - mile 343, and the finish - mile 358. I was fairly dry at this point, and it never really got hot again after the rain. I focused on maintaining a high cadence to keep my speed up. Riding at 11 mph vs. 10 mph meant I would be done 10% sooner.

I passed up the first gas stations in Coosa, thinking there were some fast food places around the corner. I was mistaken. Great, another hour and a half to Cave Spring. After an hour I came across another gas station where I stopped for a coke and a bag of chips. I put the coke in my feed bag and chips in my top tube bag and kept rolling on the now dark, country roads.

I rolled through Cave Spring a little after 10pm, plenty of time to finish before midnight. Up until this point, I felt pretty good. I was running on caffeine and adrenaline in anticipation of finishing. I had my shit together. If the finish had been here it would've been all too easy.

Shortly after Cave Spring, the route takes a turn onto the last few miles of singletrack. I saw two trees with double blazes indicating a turn in the route, neither of which were the right way. After searching the side of the road for 30 minutes, I was ready to swear the trail didn't exist. I didn't have the food, water, or most importantly, the battery power to be screwing around at this point. My headlight was dying, my GPS was dying, my phone was dying, my back-up battery was low. I finally doubled back enough for my GPS to re-draw the route; that's when I saw yet a third tree with double blazes and finally, a trail. If the singletrack hadn't have been so much fun I would've been pissed.

In a rush to finish before my electronics started failing, I was riding way too fast given the circumstances. I caught glimpses of the trail as my handlebar light bounced over the rollers and around the turns. I let my brain piece it together and make up what I didn't see. As the trail dropped out onto a paved road, my foot clipped something that didn't move, my rear tire slid out, and I realized I couldn't save it a moment too late. I fell to the side of the trail hitting my face on what felt like a rock but could've been a log. I felt warm fluid on my face instantly. So there I was, I'd been at it for nearly 19 hours on 3 hours of sleep and now had blood running down my face. Fucking fantastic. I didn't know how bad it was, but I knew the quickest way to first aid was to finish. I made sure my tires where still inflated, still spun, and hopped back on.

Another short stretch of single track put me out on a dirt road where I was soon pursued by a pack of dogs that I couldn't see. I needed to get off the bike quick or I was going to freaking lose it. I watched my GPS closely, anticipating the next turn and the Silver Comet rail-trail, but all it showed was the same dirt road stretching to the top of the screen. I started wondering if I'd wandered into a version of hell where I get to ride and race all day but never finish and never get where I'm going. After an eon had passed, I turned onto the Silver Comet. I checked the time: midnight on the dot. Dammit.

I crossed the state line a few minutes later in the pitch black, no one around, no sounds other than the cicadas, not even enough phone battery for a finish line pic, no distractions from the joy of finishing. An anti-climactic but suitable ending to the most epic and intense adventure.

I ended up in 5th place overall (several people ahead of me had bailed), 1st single speed. Finishing right at 64 hours according to my spot tracker, it seems I now have the single speed record for the course, by 42 minutes. That was unexpected but really cool. Luckily my nose wasn't broken and wasn't cut as bad as it felt, took a while to stop bleeding though.