Trans North Georgia '23 + Ride to the Start

During the race:

"This sucks", "Bikepacking is stupid", "I'm never doing this again"

The day after finishing:

"So how can I go faster next year?" 

The Idea

I was a little on the fence about this year's TNGA. I mean I wanted to do it, but I also wanted to ride the Trans West North Carolina (TWNC). Both are point to point routes and pose similar logistical problems of getting to the start and from the finish. However, the TWNC ends where TNGA begins, and so I seriously toyed with the idea of riding them back to back as this was the only way I could ride them both this year. There was still the issue of getting to/from the ends, and ultimately I decided that combining them would be too difficult. I don't know what TWNC is like, but I imagine it's pretty close to the difficulty of TNGA. So it would be like riding TNGA twice... which sounds awful. 

This dilemma led me to procrastinate and wait too long to sign up for Mulberry Gap support for TNGA (the shuttle to/from the start/finish). I quickly got to thinking how else I could do this race. The start is about a five hour drive, too far to ask someone to drop me off. I could park at Mulberry Gap and ride to the start, but riding back to Mulberry after 'finishing' sounded awful. When I finished the race, I wanted to be done riding. What if I parked at the finish and rode to the start? That seemed doable. Heck, why not just ride from my house? Well it's at least two days to get there, three days on route, two days to get back. That's a minimum of seven days and probably closer nine if I'm being realistic. Eh, that's too much, parking at the finish sounds like a better option. 

I could've just gotten on Mulberry Gap's wait list and probably gotten a spot, but the idea was in my head now. And I couldn't let it go. 

Getting ready: I swapped the emergency blanket for a wind jacket.

 Pre-Ride Day 1

I was nervous and anxious leading up to this. It would be a 550+ mile loop and probably the hardest thing I've ever done. Additionally, the route crossed through Atlanta suburbs which could be quite dangerous for cycling. I planned the route using Strava which has a feature to automatically choose the most popular cycling roads. This 'most popular' route seemed to go quite a bit out of the way, so I modified it with my own shortcut (bad idea) to save about an hour of riding. It was 180 miles to Clayton, plus another 17 to the actual start of the race.

I left Nashville mid-morning on Thursday and started riding by mid-afternoon. The first 20 or so miles were on the Silver Comet rail trail. Spinning along at 12 to 13 miles per hour was maddeningly slow as I was on a single speed with a gear meant for mountains. I had debated using a slightly faster gear but concluded that it would only save about 45 minutes on the way to the start and could potentially cost hours in the race. 

Once I was off the rail trail, the roads got a bit hilly, and the low gear wasn't so bad. The roads weren't bad at first, just the usual low traffic on country roads, but I was still a bit stressed out which caused me to push harder than I should have. As I got closer to the suburbs, traffic picked up, it was near rush hour. Some roads had a small shoulder, others had none. On a road bike, I might 'take the lane' but not on a loaded single speed spinning along at 12mph. I was on my 'shortcut' now which turns out is not cycling friendly. The roads had looked ok on Google Streetview, but sometimes it's hard to tell until you're actually there. 

As I got closer to Acworth, traffic slowed a bit. I was still on a busy-ish road when I passed by a house and heard a woman calling to a dog. I didn't think much of it, except hoping it wasn't about to chase me. A few seconds later I hear tires screeching and a dog yelping. I looked back and saw the dog tumbling under a large van, followed by people yelling. I think the dog got up and ran off a little ways. I didn't want to go back. I don't know if the owners would blame me, but I didn't want to get caught up in it. I feel bad for the dog, but there's nothing I could've done to prevent that. Hope it survived. 

I rolled into Acworth a little bit shaken, stopping at the Red Top Brewery for a beer and burger and to plan my next move. Originally, I thought I might ride through the night, stopping to sleep a few hours at a church or under a bridge. Cooler temps and lower traffic made that an appealing option, as well as getting to Clayton sooner. But, it was hot and I had been pushing harder than I should have, a hotel sure would be nice. I rode a bit further to Woodstock and stopped for the night after 63 miles. 

Pre-Ride Day 2

I managed to get rolling early-ish, but I would still face the morning school traffic and rush hour. I rode a lot of sidewalks when they were available. Sidewalks come with their own risks but aren't so bad when you're already going slow. A couple hours later, I was back on Strava's 'most popular' route. Some of the roads were still busy-ish but nothing like the previous day. Traffic got less and less until it was suddenly quiet. I rolled on, stopping at a gas station for second breakfast and Chick-fil-A early afternoon. The roads got hillier and then mountainous as I got closer to Clayton. It was hot, and my stomach wasn't really cooperating. Traffic picked up a bit as I pushed over the final climb and down into Clayton, 122 miles for the day. 

Nearly all of my rides end where I start, so it's a very different feeling riding to somewhere, knowing it's a full day's ride (or more) back to where I started. It almost felt unreal: I really just did that, also, what have I gotten myself into? I checked into my hotel, soaked in the tub, showered, and walked across the street for some pizza. I ate as much as I could, still nauseated from the heat and exertion. A beer would've been nice, but alcohol wrecks my recovery and my legs were toasted. I wasn't sure how I was going to pull off the TNGA after all that.

TNGA Day 1

I woke up even earlier than I wanted, but that was ok. I started the day with some crappy hotel room coffee and some cold left over pizza. I quickly packed and was rolling by 6am. It was another 17 miles to the start, about an hour and a half at my pace. I stopped by a gas station for some Advil and canned Starbucks. Another racer offered me a ride to the start, but I had come all this way, might as well keep riding. The sunrise was nice, but getting chased by three German Shephards wasn't. I rolled up to the bridge with plenty of time to spare, already 200 miles deep. 

I was tired, but I felt surprisingly good, though that might've just been the Advil and caffeine kicking in. I made it up the first few climbs easily enough; it was easier to pace myself on the gravel roads. I approached the two and a half hour mark and still hadn't gotten to Darnell Creek trail. Last time I was already in Dillard around this time. I knew I was riding quite a bit slower than usual. 

The first day was fairly uneventful. I drank water like a fish, stopped for snacks and a Coke at the Tallulah River around mile 40, stopped for a super greasy and delicious burger at the hostel around mile 54 (after 7 hours of riding). Not only was I riding slower, but I was also stopping more. It was nice to get to ride with other people and stop and talk/rest. The fast group doesn't stop for long. The downside to this, is I would be cutting it close getting off of Tray and down Hickory Nut before sunset. 

I tried to pick up the pace and limit my stopped time. Riding up Tray, I noted how much better I felt than last year, even if I was riding slower. I blasted down the backside and made my way down Hickory Nut, thankful to have suspension this time. I rolled into Helen just after sunset, ate some cold ravioli and Vienna sausages for dinner, and loaded up for the 5 hour push to Cooper's Creek. 

I set off with two other riders - we stayed together most of the way up Hogpen. I stopped to pee at the top, then stared at the stars for several minutes. I could faintly see the Milky Way stretching across the sky and also saw a couple shooting stars. It was about 11pm, and I decided to try to sleep a little. Even though one is a bit more exposed at elevation, I think it's generally a better place to sleep as all the cold air and humidity settles into the valleys. I was still quite sweaty and got chilled pretty quickly. I didn't feel like digging out my wind jacket, so I decided to press on. The jacket would have been nice - I froze on the way down. I made my way over to Vogel State Park, but didn't feel like stopping any more. 

Apparently I missed the memo about the Vogel un-re-route. A new road had been added to the route to add 5 miles of gravel and cut out some pavement, but the road was under construction and had been taken out of the route at the last minute. I hadn't checked my email in a few days, so I took the new road. I saw the 'Road Closed' sign - perfect. It was easy enough to get through at midnight, but not so much if people had been there working. I made my way up Wolfpen, stopped for some more Vienna sausages and hot pretzel pieces, then cruised on down Duncan Ridge. I tried to ride fast to make up some time, but it still seemed to take forever. I rolled into Cooper's shortly after 3am, ate some amazing home-made lasagna, and slept on the floor in the back, next to some other racers. (Cooper's Creek is definitely one of the highlights of the ride, super grateful to the owners/workers there.)

TNGA Day 2

I woke up around 6am - not nearly enough sleep - got some coffee and a breakfast burrito and took a sandwich to go. It was chilly this morning, so I rode with my wind jacket on for 20 minutes or so, until I warmed up. It was an easy cruise over to the Aska trails where I stopped for half of the sandwich. The trails were pretty fun leading up to Stanley Gap. I was feeling ok but still walked up most of Stanley. The descent was a blast. Shortly after I got off the singletrack and onto the gravel road, I came across some campers and 'trail magic'. It's hard to turn down a Coke and water, so I stopped for a few minutes. 

I usually make a stop at the Pink Pig in Cherry Log for some barbecue, but there was a new store coming up on route. I made my way to Mountainside Market where I caught up with Chad and James. We would end up leap frogging for the next 50 miles or so. 

I felt good riding up FS 64 into the Cohuttas. When I came up to South Fork trail, I didn't even slow down. It was actually dry this time and fun. Who knew that could happen?! I made my way up Pinhoti 0 and the gravel road after, stopping for the second half of my sandwich from this morning. About 30 minutes later, pushing up Potato Patch, I got incredibly sleepy all of a sudden. I sat down and leaned back against a tree and closed my eyes. I was in a strange day dream sort of state. I wasn't really asleep but seemed to be having a fairly vivid dream - like an hallucination - but I knew it wasn't real. It passed in about 15 minutes and I continued my way up the mountain. 

I filtered water at the top of Bear Creek before shredding the descent. Up and over Pinhoti 1, down Pinhoti 2 - suspension sure is nice - and into Mulberry Gap for a shower, dinner, and a cot in The Barn. I knew the clock was ticking for a 3 day finish, but I was exhausted, hadn't slept enough the night before, everything hurt. I knew I had the will to keep going, but I wasn't sure if I had the legs. I wasn't going to put a limit on sleep this night.

TNGA Day 3

I woke up well rested and generally feeling good. Turns out Advil before bed is much better than Advil in the morning. I had some coffee, a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich, some hash browns, and took a burrito to go. The next sections were pretty fun, I walked a lot of the hills of course, but the descents were a blast. 

I rolled on towards The Snake, stopping for a milkshake in Dalton, and loaded up for the next 75 miles. The Snake wasn't so bad; the descents are much easier with suspension. I kept my GPS on the elevation profile page so I would know when I was at the top of the climb. Sometimes the trail levels off for a short stretch, but if I can't pedal up the climb, it's easier to just walk the whole thing rather than get off and on every 100ft. 

I drank a bottle and a half in the first 10 miles after Dalton - it was a still a long way to the next resupply. So when I came upon a small creek, I stopped to filter water. There was just barely enough flow to fill the filter pouch. 

Rolling along on the endless singletrack, I followed this 1-dimensional line through space, up and down the hills, around the trees, over the rocks and roots. At the top of the last climb on The Snake, I stopped for a chicken sandwich I had picked up in Dalton. From top of the ridge I looked out though the trees and watched the sun sink lower in the sky, soaking in the serenity of this remote trail.

It was getting dark as I neared the end of The Snake. I rode a few more hours, up and over the next hill. Around 11pm, I decided to try to sleep while it was still a little warm out, rather than wait until the coldest part of the night. I put my wind jacket on and laid in the dirt. I rested from about 11:30pm to 2:30am, sleeping maybe half that time. Mosquitoes kept buzzing around my ears and were probably biting me elsewhere. I calculated it was another 9 to 10 hours to the finish. I wasn't sleeping much, so I figured I might as well start riding again. 

TNGA Day 4

I trudged on through the darkness. I'm not as familiar with this part of the course - it had been 4 years since I'd last been there, and I'm always exhausted, in a daze by this point - some of the turns are a little tricky. One in particular I searched for about 20 minutes before I saw another rider standing near the entrance to the singletrack. He seemed to be in more of a hurry than I was, so I let him go ahead but quickly realized I was faster pedalling up the hills. 

This section has a lot of singletrack that parallels gravel roads - rather annoying when you've been riding for days. Towards the end of the ridge the route took some rough-cut, half-assed singletrack. I bounced along for a few miles on the uneven trail but eventually made it to the end. Down some switchbacks, across the road, and on to the Rail Trail to Hell. 

It's worse than I remembered - washouts, ruts, knee-high grass wet with dew, spider webs... I blame this rail trail for killing my Wahoo. A couple miles in, I glanced down to see a blank screen with vertical lines. Uh oh. It flickered in and out a couple times before I took it off the handlebar mount and put it in my pocket so it wouldn't be subject to such harsh vibrations. I wasn't really prepared to use my phone to navigate, but I could make it work if I had to. I could navigate the rail trail easily enough. 

Once I hit pavement, I put the GPS back on the mount. The display was back, but there was a small black spot in the bottom left corner. The spot grew as I continued on. I was pretty hungry by this point. I had plenty of granola bars, but I would rather be hungry. When I finally made it to a gas station in Coosa, I loaded up with chocolate milk, iced coffee, Gatorade, water, and a couple pastries. I was dirty and tired; the man at the counter looked at me a little suspiciously. 

After inhaling 700 calories, I cruised on towards Cave Spring. I was on the home stretch; smooth sailing from here. As I got close to Cave Spring, two dogs started chasing me. One kept his distance and just barked, the other got close and was rather aggressive. I unclipped from the pedal and kicked towards it. I felt my sock being pulled right before I kicked again, striking it on top of the head. Thankfully, it backed off after that. It shredded my sock pretty good and just barely nicked my ankle. I took my knife out of my bag and put it in my pocket for easier access. I'd just ridden 500+ miles, I wasn't about to get taken out by a stupid dog. And generally I love dogs, but I'm not afraid to murder one that's attacking me. I'll be carrying pepper spray from now on, so hopefully it doesn't come to that. 

I rode on through Cave Spring towards the last bit of singletrack. The spot on my GPS had grown so large that I couldn't really navigate with it, but now I could just follow the Pinhoti blazes. A few more roads after the singletrack and I was back on the Silver Comet, where I had started 5 days ago. I passed my car, glad to see it was still there. Just a little ways further and I was in Alabama. Done. Last time I finished at midnight, this time it was noon. Twelve hours slower but I did ride an extra 200 miles before the race (and last year I didn't finish at all). I sat down for some celebratory Pringles and to let my tracker update one last time, thankful to be done.

Conclusion

Would I ride to the start again? Maybe, but not that route. It's sad how so many roads are awful for anything but a car. It definitely set me back the first day of the race, and that time can't be made up. It certainly added to the experience but not in the way I thought it would. Maybe it's because the route was too urban, or maybe it's because I wasn't in race mode. I can't really compare my time with previous years, as this was altogether a different ride. I maintain that my first TNGA was the most difficult - running out of water several times and having sore throat makes things rather unpleasant. Also I need pepper spray. I don't have any more patience to deal with aggressive dogs.

The Primal State (Vista 300)

Day 1

The day started early, coming from Central Time. I got up around 5:45am Eastern, departure was at 6:30. I had no trouble waking up, as a nervous excitement had been lingering since the day before. I drank my cold brew and loaded the bags onto my bike, making the final call to bring my wind jacket, even though I probably wouldn't use it. I still couldn't decide what shirt to wear - long sleeve, quick dry for sun protection or a regular cotton blend tshirt from the MS Gravel Cup for better air flow. At the last minute I decided neither. I'd just wear the one I had on - my tri-blend Rat Bastard Brewing shirt (gotta represent!). It's not a 'performance' shirt, but it's super comfy and dries reasonably well. I took the long sleeve to change at some point. Rolling up to the start I had a mild panic that I hadn't loaded the route onto my GPS, but it was in fact there. I had loaded it a week or two ago and forgotten. 

After a brief 'good luck', we were off. All eleven of us. (Plus maybe a couple that weren't on Track Leaders, not sure, I didn't count.) Riding up the first climb, my lower back was complaining about having slept in my car. I figured it would stop sooner or later, and eventually it did. About twenty minutes in, with no one in sight, I realized this was going to be a very solitary ride - compared to TNGA where you see a handful of riders at every resupply. Early on I got passed by Joe and Garrett. I would see Joe again at the first resupply in Tellico Plains at mile 47, otherwise I was alone for the rest of the ride. 

For the first hour I was zipping up the climbs with minimal effort. Two hours in, I thought, damn this is getting hard. Four hours in, I had settled into endurance pace and was feeling good again. The first several hours consisted of mostly smooth gravel roads, some pavement. I was making good time and calculated that, at that pace I could knock this thing out in under 48 hours, easy. Then I got to the sustained climbs. The gravel climb up to Indian Boundary started wearing me down, but I got to the camp store just in time. They had closed up, about to leave, but they were super nice and let me grab a few things. I had hoped for some substantial food, instead I had a Snickers ice cream bar, a pack of Combos, and a Coke for dinner. I ate and rested for a bit, then started up the Skyway - a 10 mile 3000 foot climb. 

The Ride with GPS map has two overlooks marked on the way up. I got to the first one pretty quickly, feeling good. A little while later I got to the second, thinking this isn't so bad, I have to be over half way up. Then I passed another overlook and another overlook and another overlook. Five miles later, all uphill, I thought, alright I'm ready to go home now. A couple miles later I finally got to the top of the ten mile climb, exhausted. At least there was a ten mile descent next. 

Day faded into night as I made my way down. I cruised on to the game check station at mile 120 where I refilled water, put on a fresh shirt and socks, and rested a few minutes. Originally, I thought I might stop for the night around this point. There was a campground coming up, but the night was young and I wanted to press on a while longer. I then realized that the next few resupply points would be closed when I passed them. I took stock of my remaining food. It wasn't quite enough to make it to the next major town - McCaysville at mile 178. I would either have to stop for longer than I wanted, waiting for somewhere to open or risk a major bonk.

Around 12:30am, mile 140, I stopped to sleep for a bit at a tiny trailhead on the side of the road. The first night is always difficult. I was sweaty and tired and the air was chilly and damp. I wanted a shower and a warm bed, instead I got an inflatable sleeping pad and unknown critters wandering about.

Day 2

I woke up chilly around 4:20am. A sleeping bag liner doesn't offer much warmth by itself, and I wasn't going to get any warmer laying there. I packed up and was rolling by 4:45am. About a mile later there was a right turn in the route but no road. Oh boy! Singletrack! Not just single track but hike-a-bike with big loose rocks. What fun! Thankfully, the steep section was fairly short, most of the trail was rolling to flat and a pretty easy ride. I saw a bunch of squiggles coming up on the route and thought, what the hell is that? Oh, it's Buck Bald. I watched it get closer and closer. 

I popped out onto a road and next thing I knew I was heading downhill. Wait what happened to Buck Bald? It's a short out and back in the route, and my GPS had skipped over it. But I could see the road on the map. I doubled back and rode up it anyways, pretty sure I knew what I was doing. I didn't want to miss that 360 degree view of the surrounding mountains or get hit with a three hour time penalty. I got to the top at first light, which was pretty cool. I could just see the dark hills against the less dark sky. Getting there about 45 minutes later would've been awesome. 

I pressed on, down and up, down and up. I made it to the convenience store in Harbuck around 8:15am. They don't open until 10am. I was down to half a Clif Bar and a few sips of water - I'm pretty sure half a Clif Bar is enough to kill a man on the verge of dehydration. I hadn't seen a good place to filter water from in a while, either. So, I could wait nearly two hours for them to open, or I could ride another fourteen miles and be in McCaysville before 10am. I checked the upcoming elevation profile - relatively flat - probably a lot of pavement from what I remembered on the map. Easy decision: onward. (Looking back at the map now, there's a Dollar General a mile off route that was open at 8am...)

When the clock tower struck 10, I had found Catz cafe, ordered, and sat down. I sipped hot coffee while still dying of thirst because that's what I do in the morning. The cafe had been converted from an old house, but the bathroom still had a tub in it with a hose/shower head attachment... it was awfully tempting. I ate enough to feel like vomiting, then hit the Dollar General to restock. Riding out of town was very uncomfortable from having eaten and drank so much, but my stomach had settled by the time I hit the singletrack. 

It was quite warm by this point and the humidity among the dense trees was stifling. I took off my long sleeve shirt, the relief was instant. I never ride shirtless, but I did for several hours this day. It was liberating. With proper fuel, fluids, and convective cooling, I felt like a new man. I was ripping up and down the trail, but it still took three hours to go 22 miles. Near the top of a long singletrack climb approaching a gravel road, I saw a small black bear run off into the woods. Shortly after that on the gravel road a deer saw me coming, yelped, and ran off the other way. I didn't know deer could yelp, but I thought it was hilarious. 

Next up was the Sylco backcountry trail. I had ridden it before in the other direction as part of the Cohutta Cat. And even with the recent controlled burn, it was worse than I remembered. It's an overgrown, washed out, sorry excuse for a trail, and we should really let it die already. 

I made my way to the Ocoee Dam Deli where I got a buffalo chicken wrap to go - got a bit messy trying to eat that while riding. Then I got a milk shake from Sonic in the next town over to sip on as I cruised the easy pavement. I was making good time again. I got to the convenience store at mile 250 well before they closed. This would be the last resupply, then just 65 miles to the finish. It was 9pm. It would be a long night, but if I pushed through, I could squeak in, just under 48 hours. Little did I know what was in store.

Riding the next section of pavement, a dark mountain ridge loomed on the left. Then the route turned left. I walked most of two miles up a ridiculously steep gravel road, thinking I would have a nice descent on the other side. Nope. More singletrack. It was a bit technical and slow going in the dark. And it went on. And on. And on. I made it to Chilhowee Campground around 1:30am. Still over 45 miles to go. There was no way I was going to finish under 48 hours, so I stopped to sleep a while.

Day 3

I woke up around 4:30am again, ready for the final push. The long climb and singletrack the night before had distorted my sense of elevation. Was I on top of a mountain or near the bottom? The gravel road away from the campground went up. I could look out in the darkness and see lights far below. But then I would come across a fairly loud creek - how did all that water get up here? The road kept going up. Surely I was near the top of the world by now. When I made the turn to go down, there was yet another road that continued going up. I was baffled (also sleep deprived). I hit a wicked descent as the sun was rising with a waning quarter moon shining over the misty valleys far below. At the bottom, I stopped for second breakfast, then rode on towards the last big climb. 

Even though my goal had been 48 hours, I wouldn't trade my experience. Finishing in two days is just an overnighter. The third day is when things get interesting - when you really start to feel the effects of sleep deprivation and the finish line is within your grasp, watching the sun come up over the mountains while your very being is reduced to it's primal core of raw power and will, driven to complete a single task. Nothing can stop you. Nothing else matters. For me, this primal state of being is the essence of ultra endurance racing. It's a high not easily achieved or sustained. 

My transcension was complete when I decided to drink tepid instant coffee after consuming several thousand calories the day before, far, far away from civilization or a restroom. There's nothing quite like wiping with leaves still wet with dew to bring you back to nature.

When I crested the last peak, I stopped for some celebratory Pringles. They had survived surprisingly well over the rough terrain. It was all (mostly) downhill from here - gravel, singletrack, gravel - down to the Hiwassee river. If I hadn't been so close to the finish, I would've stopped to swim. One last little bushwacking, creek crossing adventure and a short loop around Ocoee State Park and I was done - 316 miles, 53 hours 25 minutes.