While the Midwest has it’s ups and downs, it is not where I want to be. I'm not alone either, as the Illinois population dropped by 45k last year - the fifth straight year of population decline. Below are my thoughts at various times over the last 10 months, in no particular order.
Back-roads of the Heartland
It’s been a long time since I’ve explored anything new. School, work, and a student budget can be pretty limiting, but that chapter is over. It is the end of an era; r.i.p. Ole Miss Cycling. But, the next chapter is just beginning.
I don’t think Indiana is on anyone’s riding list, for good reason, but since I’m here, the chance to explore new roads is enticing nonetheless. The first thing (and sometimes the only thing) one notices in Indiana is the corn. It’s everywhere. Every somewhat level patch of ground is planted with corn, or soybeans. But between the amber waves of grain, are beautiful hardwoods, and if you’re lucky, you can find a swooping descent on a tree-lined road that dips down to a creek before climbing up the next hill. Other roads gain elevation imperceptibly, like 200 feet in 20 miles, until you near the top where you can see for miles – endless rows of corn and trees in the distance. Taking a detour off of a busy highway, I wound up on seldom-traveled gravel roads that create a grid through the maize (pun intended). I was reminded what it’s like to ride through the back-country, miles from civilization. To see a path unfold for the first time. Where the destination is not the same as the start. I was reminded of adventure.
Ready for Change
I realized the other day that I haven’t ridden the single speed since last July. I’ve ridden trails eight times in the last eight months. It was a sad moment, but the Inbred is patiently waiting in storage while I’m working “on the road” in the Midwest. I wasn’t looking forward to coming here, but it was a good opportunity to make some money and to get “on my feet” so to speak. I’ve reached that point and beyond, and my reasons for staying here are dwindling. I’ve built an emergency fund, fixed my car, and saved up to cover my next move and job search. Even though the work is fine, this job won’t work out in the long run, and it’s not advancing my career. It’s scheduled to finish at the end of March but will likely get extended. By how much will determine whether or not I stick around. I’d like to see the job through, but I’m itching to move back south and get on with my career (and life). Even so, I’m glad to have experienced the Midwest, it was something new and different, if a bit bland. I can say with certainty it is not where I want to live, though I’ve only seen a small part.
Terre Haute, IN
While the country side is decent enough, Terre Haute is not. Maybe it’s a lack of parks, trails, and forests. Maybe it’s a lack of culture. Maybe it’s the evenly spaced grid of shitty, narrow roads with no sidewalks and no shoulder. The city may as well be gray. The trees aren’t quite as green as the Deep South. When I leave I don’t want to be reminded of this place.
Peoria, IL
Peoria is almost ok. It would be if it weren’t for the crappy weather and roads. The road riding is decent out of town and there are several trail systems nearby. The problem with road riding is getting out of the sprawl zone. The city is made up of a grid of 4-lane, 40+ mph streets with very few secondary, connecting roads. What’s worse is that nearly every expansion joint has pot holes big enough to destroy a bike wheel. A full suspension mountain bike isn’t overkill. Additionally, many drivers think bikes don’t belong in the road and will honk and/or angrily yell explicatives to get on the sidewalk. I’m sure the trails are a blast in the summer. I only got a few rides in before the first snow. A fat bike would be fun for the first part of winter, but once the freeze-thaw cycles starts, all packed snow turns to ice. One thing the city does have going for it is a nice rail-trail that runs from the north side of town all the way to downtown. Unfortunately it is not maintained in winter. There are a few attempts at building separated bike lanes, but they’re basically just big sidewalks and don’t alleviate any of the issues associated with riding on regular sidewalks. Other than that, the bars/restaurants are good, there are lots of parks and short hiking trails, and the geography is pretty cool if you know where to look.
-Update: It’s mid-May, there was a brief period where the trails were in fantastic shape, but the constant rain has been a real buzz-kill. It’s bad enough putting up with a shitty winter, but a shitty spring/summer is no better. I can’t wait to get the hell out of here.
Conclusion
It seems ironic that Terre Haute has a much better cycling scene than Peoria even though it’s less than half the size. The few group rides I’ve seen advertised around Peoria are 15-17 mph, ~20 miles. I suppose I could’ve ridden my mountain bike with them. There are at least four groups in Peoria, but two are more of advocacy groups, while the other two only have short, slow rides occasionally. In contrast, the bike shop in Terre Haute has a very active club, hosting social events, races, and regular gravel, trail, and road rides. They even had a few events in the winter. In addition, it’s much easier to get in/out of town, and there are a lot of options for road routes, even if they are mostly flat and straight.
I’ve been ready to move south for three months now. I was really counting on getting out of here in May to ramp up my training for the TNGA; now it’s looking like the end of June. July will be hot and sticky. I’m not sure my training will be where it needs to be, especially with a serious lack of trail time.
6.01.2019
5.01.2019
Trails and TNGA Training
April was yet another slow month for riding due to traffic and travelling. I'm finding ways to overcome these obstacles though by bringing my mountain bike to work and going to the trails from there, and refining my road routes to the quietest roads. Last week was an exception, however; I logged over 12 hours of ride time (my biggest week in the last year). I finally decided that I couldn't put off training for the TNGA any longer. There is still time, but I've got to start now.
Last week included two trail rides at Independence Park, which is turning out to be my favorite trail system in the area. Unlike Wildlife Prairie Park, it's free and difficult enough to be low key. It reminds me of Oxford; the trails are older, tight, rooty, and non-IMBA approved. The descents are flowy but rough, putting all of my suspension to use. And they don't come easily; the climbs are steep and punchy and sometimes technical. It's a great place to build technical skills and strength; a sharp contrast to my aerobic efforts on the road. Variety is the best training.
Last week also included a century around Peoria. It was a good bit slower than my last century ride in Terre Haute, 17.8 vs 19.5 mph, but contained significantly more elevation and a strong headwind in the second half. I'm planning to ride it again in a couple weeks, hopefully with less wind. Once again, I'm trying train my body to burn more fat, fewer carbs. Running on carbs alone, the average person would need equal amounts of ride time and rest time. Burning fat extends the ride time significantly. Long, slow distance is a great way to do this, from what I've read, along with fasted rides in the morning.
Today I learned that the Top of Georgia Hostel will be closed during the TNGA this year. Last time it was a crucial lunch stop on the first day after 50 miles. Now, the first stop will be Helen at ~100 miles (10 - 12 hours). I can refill my water at creek crossings, but food is another story. I'll have to plan a little more carefully this time.
Last week included two trail rides at Independence Park, which is turning out to be my favorite trail system in the area. Unlike Wildlife Prairie Park, it's free and difficult enough to be low key. It reminds me of Oxford; the trails are older, tight, rooty, and non-IMBA approved. The descents are flowy but rough, putting all of my suspension to use. And they don't come easily; the climbs are steep and punchy and sometimes technical. It's a great place to build technical skills and strength; a sharp contrast to my aerobic efforts on the road. Variety is the best training.
Last week also included a century around Peoria. It was a good bit slower than my last century ride in Terre Haute, 17.8 vs 19.5 mph, but contained significantly more elevation and a strong headwind in the second half. I'm planning to ride it again in a couple weeks, hopefully with less wind. Once again, I'm trying train my body to burn more fat, fewer carbs. Running on carbs alone, the average person would need equal amounts of ride time and rest time. Burning fat extends the ride time significantly. Long, slow distance is a great way to do this, from what I've read, along with fasted rides in the morning.
Today I learned that the Top of Georgia Hostel will be closed during the TNGA this year. Last time it was a crucial lunch stop on the first day after 50 miles. Now, the first stop will be Helen at ~100 miles (10 - 12 hours). I can refill my water at creek crossings, but food is another story. I'll have to plan a little more carefully this time.
3.30.2019
Spring
Train
My winter/early spring training has been... sporadic... as weather and motivation fluctuate. One week in particular I hit it really hard with weights, running, and riding, before and after work, and was exhausted by Friday - slept eleven hours that night. The following "rest" week quickly turned into a do-nothing week when the weather took a turn for the worse. I had a good routine of exercising before work, but with the time change and warmer weather, longer quality rides after work are more appealing. My intentions don't always pan out, however. Evening traffic seems to be getting worse as the weather gets better, and even though it's only bad for the few miles in and out of town, it's enough to deter me some days. On the bright side, we're getting dangerously close to mountain bike season (a phrase I hope to never use again), and I won't hesitate to drive to the trails after work.
Rebuild
The road bike has been long over-due for some TLC. Since building it nearly four years ago (with a lot of used parts), it's kind of been neglected. Initially I intended to rebuild it all at once, but switching job locations (in October) meant my new wheels were returned to sender (in China) before I could pick them up. I finally received them at my new place just a few weeks ago. It's just as well though, as I wouldn't want to subject them to the Midwest Winter. I did actually need new wheels though. The previous set was ten years old, and the wear indicator on the rear wheel disappeared about two years ago. I'm sure there's a safety margin built in, but I felt like I was starting to push my luck. The front wheel was just starting to go. The new ones are sweet though: 60mm deep and 25mm wide. They're not particularly light but still lighter than what I had. They are quick though. Handling is different and sometimes requires more attention, but it's not bad. Along with wheels I replaced cables, housing, bar tape, and tires several months ago and chain, cassette, and chainring more recently. Swapping a 12-25 cassette for an 11-23 for a faster sprinting gear. Until recently, I've never run any road tire other than Continental Gatorskins, and while they last forever and rarely flat, they're also slow and ride harshly. This time I opted for a racing tire, GP 4000s II's, and while they ride much smoother and roll a bit faster, one has already been destroyed. I'm giving them a second chance, hoping that was an anomaly. In the future I may look for a compromise between racing and bulletproof.
For a little more money, I could've bought a used mid-level bike, but even if I combined the best parts, I'd be stuck with stock gearing, wheels, and tires. Also, Chinese carbon has very little resale value, so that option didn't make much sense.
Race
My first race of the year was the Tour of St. Louis which featured a time trial and two crits. Before the LAMBRA Championship last August, I wouldn't have done a road race unless my friends dragged me there. Those races, however, made me more comfortable riding in a pack and taught me that I have a shot at winning. That, combined with racing deprivation last fall and winter means I'll race in any way that I can. In all three events of the Tour of St. Louis I finished very near the middle.
I expected to do better in the time trial, but I guess it's been a long winter and my allergies were acting up in that slightly warmer climate. This event hurt the worst and felt like my lungs would explode. Still I managed a 23.5 mph average for 30 min, which I was happy with, but it wasn't good enough to place. I'm not sure if the top Cat 4's were on time trial bikes or not. I would definitely do another, but I have no desire to own a tt bike.
Both of the crits were fast with smooth corners. Having recently acquired a Wahoo Elemnt Bolt GPS, this was my first time in a very long time racing with speed, distance, and time data. And it was quite helpful. A third of the way into the first crit, I looked down to see we were averaging over 25 mph. After the morning's time trial I knew good and well I couldn't maintain more than 23.5 for any significant amount of time. A solo break was out of the question even in the rolling hills, so I played it safe and waited for the bunch sprint, knowing I'm not much of a sprinter. I'm not used to strategizing in races and wasn't sure what else to do. Even a group break probably wouldn't have stayed away.
The next day's crit was similar but flat with two slightly hard corners. Once again we averaged over 25 mph. I attacked with four laps to go, right when the group was slowing in anticipation of the final lap/sprint. A break might've stayed away those last few laps, but if not I still had time to recover for the sprint. My attack only amounted to me being on the front pulling everyone else. I jumped on another attack the next lap but still no break was formed. Rolling into the final stretch the pack was cruising at nearly 30 mph. A well timed, strategically placed sprint with good legs was the only way to win this one, and I had none of those.
Still, it was a fun weekend. Even though both crits were fast, they weren't nearly hard enough. I felt pretty good within minutes after finishing. Thinking more about strategy, I need to play to my strengths. I'm not a great sprinter and usually not fast enough for a solo break (few people are and those usually need to cat up). My greatest strength in bike racing, developed from years of mountain biking, is the ability to put out hard efforts and recover repeatedly. Therefore, my strategy for similar crits (and especially training races) in the future is to actively try to wear down the competition, hopefully before my own legs give out.
My winter/early spring training has been... sporadic... as weather and motivation fluctuate. One week in particular I hit it really hard with weights, running, and riding, before and after work, and was exhausted by Friday - slept eleven hours that night. The following "rest" week quickly turned into a do-nothing week when the weather took a turn for the worse. I had a good routine of exercising before work, but with the time change and warmer weather, longer quality rides after work are more appealing. My intentions don't always pan out, however. Evening traffic seems to be getting worse as the weather gets better, and even though it's only bad for the few miles in and out of town, it's enough to deter me some days. On the bright side, we're getting dangerously close to mountain bike season (a phrase I hope to never use again), and I won't hesitate to drive to the trails after work.
![]() |
| Sorry for the inside pic; too busy going fast when I'm outside. |
Rebuild
The road bike has been long over-due for some TLC. Since building it nearly four years ago (with a lot of used parts), it's kind of been neglected. Initially I intended to rebuild it all at once, but switching job locations (in October) meant my new wheels were returned to sender (in China) before I could pick them up. I finally received them at my new place just a few weeks ago. It's just as well though, as I wouldn't want to subject them to the Midwest Winter. I did actually need new wheels though. The previous set was ten years old, and the wear indicator on the rear wheel disappeared about two years ago. I'm sure there's a safety margin built in, but I felt like I was starting to push my luck. The front wheel was just starting to go. The new ones are sweet though: 60mm deep and 25mm wide. They're not particularly light but still lighter than what I had. They are quick though. Handling is different and sometimes requires more attention, but it's not bad. Along with wheels I replaced cables, housing, bar tape, and tires several months ago and chain, cassette, and chainring more recently. Swapping a 12-25 cassette for an 11-23 for a faster sprinting gear. Until recently, I've never run any road tire other than Continental Gatorskins, and while they last forever and rarely flat, they're also slow and ride harshly. This time I opted for a racing tire, GP 4000s II's, and while they ride much smoother and roll a bit faster, one has already been destroyed. I'm giving them a second chance, hoping that was an anomaly. In the future I may look for a compromise between racing and bulletproof.
For a little more money, I could've bought a used mid-level bike, but even if I combined the best parts, I'd be stuck with stock gearing, wheels, and tires. Also, Chinese carbon has very little resale value, so that option didn't make much sense.
Race
My first race of the year was the Tour of St. Louis which featured a time trial and two crits. Before the LAMBRA Championship last August, I wouldn't have done a road race unless my friends dragged me there. Those races, however, made me more comfortable riding in a pack and taught me that I have a shot at winning. That, combined with racing deprivation last fall and winter means I'll race in any way that I can. In all three events of the Tour of St. Louis I finished very near the middle.
I expected to do better in the time trial, but I guess it's been a long winter and my allergies were acting up in that slightly warmer climate. This event hurt the worst and felt like my lungs would explode. Still I managed a 23.5 mph average for 30 min, which I was happy with, but it wasn't good enough to place. I'm not sure if the top Cat 4's were on time trial bikes or not. I would definitely do another, but I have no desire to own a tt bike.
Both of the crits were fast with smooth corners. Having recently acquired a Wahoo Elemnt Bolt GPS, this was my first time in a very long time racing with speed, distance, and time data. And it was quite helpful. A third of the way into the first crit, I looked down to see we were averaging over 25 mph. After the morning's time trial I knew good and well I couldn't maintain more than 23.5 for any significant amount of time. A solo break was out of the question even in the rolling hills, so I played it safe and waited for the bunch sprint, knowing I'm not much of a sprinter. I'm not used to strategizing in races and wasn't sure what else to do. Even a group break probably wouldn't have stayed away.
The next day's crit was similar but flat with two slightly hard corners. Once again we averaged over 25 mph. I attacked with four laps to go, right when the group was slowing in anticipation of the final lap/sprint. A break might've stayed away those last few laps, but if not I still had time to recover for the sprint. My attack only amounted to me being on the front pulling everyone else. I jumped on another attack the next lap but still no break was formed. Rolling into the final stretch the pack was cruising at nearly 30 mph. A well timed, strategically placed sprint with good legs was the only way to win this one, and I had none of those.
Still, it was a fun weekend. Even though both crits were fast, they weren't nearly hard enough. I felt pretty good within minutes after finishing. Thinking more about strategy, I need to play to my strengths. I'm not a great sprinter and usually not fast enough for a solo break (few people are and those usually need to cat up). My greatest strength in bike racing, developed from years of mountain biking, is the ability to put out hard efforts and recover repeatedly. Therefore, my strategy for similar crits (and especially training races) in the future is to actively try to wear down the competition, hopefully before my own legs give out.
2.27.2019
Pressure Drop
February in Illinois. It’s cold. Real cold. Cold enough to factor in the pressure drop in bike tires going from inside to outside. After guessing a few times and getting it wrong, I got bored enough to calculate various pressure changes corresponding to changes in temperature.
From the Ideal Gas Law we have PV = nRT. Assuming a constant volume (a reasonable assumption in most conditions except for maybe extremely low pressures), the equation can be re-arranged to get variables on one side, constants on the other: P/T = nR/V. From there, P1/T1 = P2/T2 or
P1(T2/T1) = P2
Just convert temperatures to your favorite absolute scale and find the ratio. The pressures in the table correspond to my front and rear mountain tires and front and rear road tires, but the percentage is what really matters.
For a general rule of thumb, if it’s 100 degrees outside and your pumping up tires inside, decrease pressure by *about 5%. If it’s 45 outside, increase by 5%. If it’s 15, increase by 10%. Under “normal” riding conditions the pressure difference isn’t really noticeable, but in 15 degree weather, my tires felt a bit squishy.
While I was calculating all this, I started thinking about shock pressure. Shocks are different in that a change in temperature results in a constant pressure process rather than a constant volume process. Without knowing the volume of the air spring or the number of moles of air, the change in volume can’t be calculated. But, assuming you want the same sag level regardless of temperature, the volume is essentially a forced constant, so the calculations above still apply in regards to adjusting the pressure according to outside temperature.
*Technically, if you expect a 5% drop you should increase by 5.263%. However, indoor and outdoor temperatures fluctuate, and most pressure gauges don’t have this level of precision anyway. Even getting it within 4 – 6% takes a bit of effort, especially at low pressures.
From the Ideal Gas Law we have PV = nRT. Assuming a constant volume (a reasonable assumption in most conditions except for maybe extremely low pressures), the equation can be re-arranged to get variables on one side, constants on the other: P/T = nR/V. From there, P1/T1 = P2/T2 or
P1(T2/T1) = P2
Just convert temperatures to your favorite absolute scale and find the ratio. The pressures in the table correspond to my front and rear mountain tires and front and rear road tires, but the percentage is what really matters.
For a general rule of thumb, if it’s 100 degrees outside and your pumping up tires inside, decrease pressure by *about 5%. If it’s 45 outside, increase by 5%. If it’s 15, increase by 10%. Under “normal” riding conditions the pressure difference isn’t really noticeable, but in 15 degree weather, my tires felt a bit squishy.
While I was calculating all this, I started thinking about shock pressure. Shocks are different in that a change in temperature results in a constant pressure process rather than a constant volume process. Without knowing the volume of the air spring or the number of moles of air, the change in volume can’t be calculated. But, assuming you want the same sag level regardless of temperature, the volume is essentially a forced constant, so the calculations above still apply in regards to adjusting the pressure according to outside temperature.
*Technically, if you expect a 5% drop you should increase by 5.263%. However, indoor and outdoor temperatures fluctuate, and most pressure gauges don’t have this level of precision anyway. Even getting it within 4 – 6% takes a bit of effort, especially at low pressures.
1.20.2019
TNGA: Round 2
Racing the Trans North Georgia in 2016 was one of the most challenging, painful, and rewarding things I’ve done. Three years later, now that my emotional wounds have healed, I think I’m ready to give it another go. I didn’t do it in 2017 as it coincided with the solar eclipse (and the pain was still too near). I might have raced it in 2018, but I was set to graduate in May and had no idea where I’d be in August. My future had too much uncertainty. And it still does. I still have no idea where I’ll be this August, but I can’t use that excuse two years in a row. I do know that I’ll be somewhere, and right now I need something to look forward to. I’m planning to leave the Midwest sometime in April and should be settled somewhere long before the race.
Even though I should know what to expect, it’s hard to form an accurate mental picture of something of this magnitude. Just as before, I flip-flop between over-thinking and under-thinking it. I do know that I’ll be doing things a bit differently, like lightening the load. My rain jacket served no purpose, and I think I can substitute an emergency blanket for my rain-fly (which I only used as a blanket even though I carried both last time). I also carried at least a pound of trail mix from start to finish. There are enough stops along the way to carry minimal food, and trail mix really isn’t that appealing after several hours, much less days, of riding. I won’t need extra brake pads and certainly don’t need CO2 AND a pump. I’m hoping to get away with a lighter saddle as the Brook’s, while comfortable, is about a pound heavier than every other option. That’ll be something I sort out in training. Extra socks and underwear are definitely worth their weight though.
One of my biggest issues was battling allergies. I may start a preemptive regimen of Claritin the week before and/or carry some sinus relief medication. I also plan to train more this time: longer endurance rides leading up to the race, core/upper body work, and running/hiking. I wasn’t prepared for all the hike-a-bike sections on the third day. Hopefully this time won't be unnecessarily painful.
12.02.2018
Dedication
As I start my working career, I’m beginning to understand what that word means as it relates to bike racing. While I stayed pretty busy these last few years in school, my schedule was flexible enough to be able to wait for a break in the weather and still ride in the daylight. The worst case might’ve been a couple of slow weeks in January and maybe another in July, but otherwise I could generally ride consistently. Now, things are different. Winter has come early, and the days are short. It’s too cold, too dark, and there’s too much traffic to ride after work. Reasonable excuses. But races aren’t won by wussing out. What does it take to train through winter? Discipline, discomfort, trainer/rollers, cross-training, lights, gear… dedication.
As Illinois devolves into a soggy, snowy, slushy mess, trail riding is put on hold and may only resume in sub-freezing temps as I don’t see anything drying out anytime soon. But it’s still important to spend time on the mountain bike to train in that position. My winter training plan consists of a combination of rollers and running during the week and decently long rides on the weekends – rain or shine (or snow) – no excuses. This should keep me competitive, but I’m not sure if it’s enough to really improve. It’s going to be a long winter.
As Illinois devolves into a soggy, snowy, slushy mess, trail riding is put on hold and may only resume in sub-freezing temps as I don’t see anything drying out anytime soon. But it’s still important to spend time on the mountain bike to train in that position. My winter training plan consists of a combination of rollers and running during the week and decently long rides on the weekends – rain or shine (or snow) – no excuses. This should keep me competitive, but I’m not sure if it’s enough to really improve. It’s going to be a long winter.
11.04.2018
Rediscovering Minimalism
Through a somewhat forced experiment due to working out of town, I am rediscovering the minimum possessions needed to maintain my quality of life expectations. I’ve said before that my dog and bikes are non-negotiable, and that holds true. For the first month, Lucy and the mountain bike stayed home. After nearly seven years of hearing the pitter-patter of little paws following me around the house, it was unnaturally quiet without Lucy. When I accidentally dropped food, I still expected her to immediately come running over. There was a distinct emptiness.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)

