TNGA: Part 1

I read an article recently saying that we (mountain bikers) use the word epic too often when describing rides, but there's no question that the Trans North Georgia qualifies in the most extreme definition of the word. It was brutal and beautiful, with emotional highs and lows, new states of consciousness, and mental struggles that match the physical.

The Day Before
Friday started with a good Mulberry Gap breakfast, followed by gathering up my gear, making a final decision on what to bring, and loading it onto the trailer to be shuttled to the start. As I was waiting for the other riders to show up and get their gear loaded, the anticipation was killing me. I was nervous, excited, and terrified all at the same time. I was ready to start riding, but there was still a full day of travelling, prepping, and camping at the yurts near the South Carolina border.

It was really interesting to meet other racers and discuss motives, goals, gear, training, and trouble spots on the route. I didn't fully realize it at the time, but this was a new class of cyclists that I had previously only read about. Some of them were ultra-endurance athletes that do these things all the time. Others were just people looking for an adventure. Unlike the short XC races I'm used to, I couldn't size up the competition by looking at how "fit" they were, or by how fast their bike looked, or even by how much gear they were carrying. I'm still not quite sure what makes a fast TNGA rider, but knowledge of the route and needing minimal sleep definitely help.

What they don't tell you is that the sleep deprivation starts the night before, because you'll probably be too excited to sleep. I slept about five hours, and spent a few more lying in bed thinking of what was to come.

Day One
Saturday started early. I got out of bed just after 5am. I had been awake for a while and breakfast was at 5:30. Despite drinking coffee, I was too tense to have a good bowel movement, which everyone knows is the crux of any bike race. This wasn't a good sign. We shuttled to the start, unloaded, and lined up on Russell Bridge over the Chattooga River. After a brief meeting, we turned on our Spot Trackers, and we were off.

We started off slow on gravel roads climbing into the mountains. I was eager to charge ahead but held back considering I'd be riding all day. I was also a little nervous about navigating, so I rode with other people for a while. The first singletrack we hit was Darnell Creek Horse Trail - a long-forgotten, overgrown, washed out excuse for a trail. I thought for sure this ride was going to turn into an episode of I Shouldn't be Alive. There's nothing quite like barrelling down a rocky, green tunnel on a loaded bike in BFE Georgia to make one think, "This is badass!". This was a feeling I would have frequently throughout the journey.

The singletrack turned to doubletrack which dumped out onto a road. After three hours we had reached Dillard, the first chance to stop at 25 miles. I bypassed this stop, but got separated from the others by a stoplight. I was on my own now. It was quiet and peaceful rolling through the backroads. I quickly became more familiar with reading the map on my phone and gained confidence in navigating.

The route then followed a nice big creek with inviting swimming holes - it was getting hot out by this point. Fortunately, it rained shortly after that. Not a lot, just enough to feel good. Initially I was concerned about keeping my feet dry, but the many creek crossings proved that this would be an impossible feat (pun intended).

I played leap frog with a few other riders, catching them on the climbs only to have them catch-up while I was figuring out where to go. I pedalled up several "gaps" (mountain passes) that all sort of run together at this point. Tray Gap was memorable though, as it is the highest point on the route, and I ran out of water on the way up. Fortunately it was mostly downhill after that to Woody's Bike Shop in Helen at mile 97. On the way down I got held up searching for the infamous Hickory Nut Trail. I had heard several times that it was tricky to find and still didn't realize what I was looking at when I came to it. Funny thing about Hickory Nut is that the bears like to toss rocks onto the trail when looking for grubs. These random rocks are difficult to see due to the tall grass covering the trail. It gets to be a bumpy ride.

About halfway down, I realized that one of my feed bags was empty - the one that held my ipod, beef jerky, and half a Clif Bar. Bummer. I had no idea where this stuff had fallen out, and going back to look for it meant the difference between getting off the mountain in the daylight, before the looming thunderstorm hit and being there in the rain and lightning after dark. I was also quite thirsty, so I pressed on, sans ipod. It was a sad moment.

I filled up a water bottle at a campground to hold me until I got to Woody's. It was getting dark and the rain was getting closer when I hit a paved downhill. I pedalled hard, tucked, and put my head down trying to gain speed and nearly blew right by the bike shop. It was a warm welcome with pizza, eggs, bacon, Coke, and tents to keep dry. This was the first major rest stop of the race, and I was exhausted after pedalling for 12 hours (which smashed my previous record of 7.5 hours!) I took the opportunity to talk with other racers and rest while I waited out the rain. I needed to press on to Vogal State Park to get to the 1/3 mark. When the rain slowed, I headed out into the night to put in another 20 miles.

Normally 20 miles is fairly easy, but I failed to realize that this extra distance included Hogpen Gap. It's a beast of a climb eventhough it's paved. I quickly ditched my rain jacket, preferring a slight drizzle over pouring sweat. Near the top of the climb, it wasn't so much raining as it was that I was riding through a cloud. I descended the slick roads with no sense of speed in the darkness. I turned onto Hatchet Creek Rd which seemed to go on forever. It was late and I badly wanted sleep. Eventually I made it to Vogal, at about 12:30, where I stopped at the first pavilion and proceeded to pass out on top of a picnic table, using my rain fly as a blanket, with another racer nearby.