Category Archives: Bob barfed
The 2012 Tour de Donut was a blast. Goals were set, bets were made and dreams were shattered. I may or may not have forgotten to pre-regsiter for the race until it was too late, but Patrick Albert, (via Kate), totally saved my ass on that one. It would’ve totally sucked to drive all the way down there just to have to turn around and come home. I owe both of you, big time.
In the interest of brevity, I’ll try to keep the story short and let the pics/videos tell most of the tale. I’d also like to apologize in advance for the shitty quality of the videos; I’m new at this and don’t know how to edit them.
Early in the morning, the empty field where I’d slept was quickly transformed into a tightly-packed parking lot.
There were something like 1600 racers lined up, so it was pretty congested at first.
When the race started, the field of riders was slow to get moving. I’d say at least half the riders were the type who only ride a few times a year, so that was understandable. Better safe than dead. We were moving slooooooooww until the crowd thinned out.
Once we finally got going, the course lead us through town, where there would be a rib-cookoff later in the day. It smelled pretty awesome.
The first leg of the race was relatively flat, save for a rolling hill or two. Having started so far in the back, I was having to really put down an effort to get past some of the larger groups. Some of these folks were really having trouble riding in a straight line, and how we managed to not have a massive crash is a mystery to me.
Weaving my way through the crowd, I latched on with a speedy group and we started going through the gears. It didn’t take long before my 1×9 gravel bike was out of gears and I was spinning like a madman just to stay in the paceline. I was out of my comfort zone for sure, but it was really fun. I haven’t been on a road ride for years and I had forgotten how fun it can be. I hung with those guys for about 6 miles and finally let them go. The first donut stop was about 8 miles into the ride, so we got there pretty quick.
My plan was to eat light at this stop, then get serious at the next one. No sense in riding the entire course with a full belly when I could wait til the end, right? I put down 8 donuts, recorded my thoughts and took off. I couldn’t have been there for much more than 10-15 minutes. I still felt good and had lofty goals for the day, as you can see here.
8 Donuts down and back on my bike, you can see I was feeling a little bit cocky. This stretch of road was flat with zero traffic, so it was pretty enjoyable. The scenery on this section gave me a better understanding of why the WTFAR boys love Illinois so much..
I found myself riding along with some pretty cool fellas from Springfield, and noticed that one of them was rolling on a rear tire that was about 80% flat. They didn’t have a pump, so I charged them $20 to use mine. OK, that’s not true. Of note, the dude on the left was riding a bull-horned singlespeed with platform pedals. Pretty badass if you ask me.
I think I was about 5 miles from the 2nd donut stop when I rolled up on Rocky, one of the dudes I had camped with the night before.
Rocky had a flat tire, no spare tube and no pump. BUT, he had given me free beers the night before the race and that makes us buddies. Despite our best efforts, though, Rocky was going to have to wait for someone to bring him a new tube. The good news is that he flatted at the top of a rather large hill where we got to see people really suffer.
It was only a few miles down the road before we reached the 2nd and final donut stop. With 18 to go, I decided I’d knock them out in 2 groups of 9. I stacked them up on an empty box, then made way to sit in the grass and get to business. At least 3 times, people confused me with some other guy that had apparently been gorging himself and throwing up in the field….very flattering.
I was nearly done with the first “stack” when things started to go bad. They still tasted pretty good, but my body was done with this shit. Mentally I was fine, I wasn’t really feeling all that full. I fought it as long as I could, but that old familiar feeling of pending spewage swept over me, and despite my most concentrated efforts…I vomited approximately 3 donuts.
With that, my donut quest came to an end. Sadly, there’s no video of the actual purge, but my thoughts afterward may be found here. The final 9-ish miles to the finish line were quite hilly and I did a lot of burping and dry-heaving. That part really wasn’t any fun at all, especially since noone was around to see it. I did get lucky and make some more friends though, when I crossed paths with yet another rider with a flat.
This guy also had no pump, tube or patch kit. I gave him my last one and you would’ve thought he’d won the lottery. He was a happy man. We got back on the bikes and he totally dropped my ass, but he was waiting for me when I finished. Pretty cool guy. I talked with Kate for a few minutes after the race, then went to lay in my truck and dry heave some more.
So, despite my failure and earned obligation to be the fattest man to ever wear a speedo at the Thunder Rolls, I had an outstanding time. I’m sure it would’ve been more fun if I’d known more people, but I did get to talk briefly with Allie and Stephen, who were at the CAC this year with Justin. I’m not 100% sure, but I think the TDD was Allie’s longest race. She looked pretty happy when I saw her, so my guess is that she did well.
I’d really like to go back and do this race next year, but I think I’d rather do it like Kate did, turning in a solid time and only eating a donut or 2 when I’m hungry. I still can’t believe I lost this bet.
Sunday’s scouting ride was supposed to be 40-ish miles long…more on that later. Adam and I rolled out from Dos Primos at around 9am, and it wasn’t long before we were riding North on County Road 363.
The weather was absolutely magnificent. Seriously, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the high-temp was only going to be around 80 degrees. Perfect weather for anything, except working or cleaning the house. Laundry be damned, we had more important things to do.
For those unfamiliar with the Cedar Creek trail system, do yourself a favor and print this map. (It’s a friggin’ nightmare to find online.) A combination of singletrack and gravel roads, the trail system is largely unused. When you’re out there you almost never run into another person. The trails are pretty nice, save for a few sections that have been horse-trampled. From 363, we turned left onto 364 and followed it all the way to the National Forest entrance. Once you’re through the gate, you get ride through stuff like this:
Follow those tracks for a while and you’ll eventually come to this opening:
From that hill, it’s only a short ride until a steep piece of downhill singletrack drops you onto the gravel of Burnett School road. Burnett School road becomes Shelton road as it snakes Northward. This section is almost all uphill, but the view on either side of the road is a welcome distraction from the effort you’re putting forth to get up the climb.
About 100 yards before you get to Hwy Y, theres’ an area on the right that has been mown down. This is actually a part of Cedar Creek trail, which was put there to keep people from having to ride on Hwy Y. Very thoughtful, in my opinion.
That connector will put you straight across the street from Bob Veach road. Bob Veach Road is a relatively flat piece of gravel with a few rolling hills. It goes almost straight North for several miles.
There are a few nice houses and a couple of families who are really into horses. It’s not uncommon to see people out here just riding around on horseback.
Eventually you’ll see a sign for Clinkenbeard rd. This is where you wanna hang a left.
Clinkenbeard has a few more climbs, but nothing too earth-shattering. Eventually, you intersect Engelwood road, where you turn right and immediately turn left onto Johnson Cemetry rd. At this time you will be promptly attacked by two asshole dogs. Bring your dog spray or a pistol, I know I will next time.
Johnson Cemetery rd runs into Ginn Lane, where you take a left. Ginn Lane has got some nasty climbs and a twisty downhill that’ll streak your chamois if you don’t tap the brakes. This is a fun road.
Barnes Chapel road leads you to the Moon Loop Trailhead, and this is where Monstercross truly begins.
***A little bit of history on the Moon Loop: When the US Forest Service took ownership of this area in the 1930’s, the area was so eroded that it looked like the surface of the Moon. Hence the name “Moon Loop” . ****
Anyhow, Adam and I made our way into the woods and commenced the taint-bashing experience that is riding a cross bike on singletrack. The first 100 yards or so is pretty bumpy, but then it opens up.
The “open-air” type of trail soon ends and you find yourself riding through a very nice piece of our National Forest.
Every good cyclocross course has barriers, and this one will be no exception. There are a number of “barriers” out there, and when this race finally happens you will come to love each and every one of them.
A run-up is a staple item for any decent cross course, so it’s only natural that a Monstercross course has one or two of them. We crossed a dry creek, and on the other side is a steep “run-up” past the old Mill Site.
Towards the end of the trail, Adam smacked a hidden log and went for a little trip over the handlebars. It was awesome, and I made him stay in the thorns until I got this picture.
Truly great race-courses don’t happen on accident. It takes a lot of careful planning and scouting….and getting lost. Somehow, we wound up back at the trailhead, having done the entire loop instead of only the first 3 miles like we’d planned. To say I was frustrated would be a serious understatement.
We were both running pretty short on water at this point, but we got lucky when we found the water spigot in front of Barnes Chapel Church.
By now we were both feeling a bit drained, so we opted to alter the route. There would be no more scouting of virgin trail today, the smart thing to do was take our candy asses back to the gravel and head for Highway J. Along the way, we stopped to take a leak, (read: I had to walk the hill) and Adam found a McDonald’s cup with 2 Monopoly stickers still on it. He was rewarded with a coupon for a free 1/4 pounder with cheese.
After crossing Rutherford Bridge, we took a left and headed up county rd 354. This is a super-shitty piece of road that we will not likely include on raceday. The one highlight to this piece of road is when you get to ride past the home of a very “Shrek-like” guy who REALLY doesn’t want you trespassing on his land. Check out the sign in his front yard.
I’d really like to get a closer shot of that sign, but I’m pretty sure this asshole is just dying for an excuse to shoot someone. Just in case you’re curious, this is how it reads:
Property owner will shoot to kill any man woman or child dispensing weaponry toward this property
Said owner will engage and subdue anyone dispensing weaponry within 150 yards of said property
Unwelcome domestic animals are killed
No aid now available to distressed National Forest visitors
Someone must have really pissed that guy off. The funny thing is that I’m pretty sure he spent more time working on the sign than he did on his house. One whole side of his house doesn’t even have siding on it, just plastic-wrap.
Once we hit Highway J, we rode pavement all the way back to New Bloomfield. I dont know about Adam, but my ass was dragging pretty bad at this point. I must’ve eaten a bad snack or something, because my stomach was all kinds of messed up. When we finally made it t0 a gas station, I got some beef jerky and Coca Cola. I thought the sugar would calm my stomach down…I was wrong. I walked out of the gas station and promptly vomited 2 cans of coke and a bag of beef jerky. And while that was disgusting, it was even more disgusting that Adam took no pictures. I think you know what that means.
After I got all the puking handled, we were back on the road…headed for that glorious plate of shrimp nachos at the end of the rainbow. At the end of the day the cyclometer showed 56 miles, but that doesn’t account for any of the hike-a-biking or tree-hurdling we did out there.
It was a day full of triumph and failure, but the greatest shock didn’t happen for me until we got to Dos Primos. I ordered a pitcher of beer and my beloved shrimp nachos….then couldn’t eat or drink any of it. After barfing jerky and coke, the prospect of a followup performance with shrimp and beer was too much, even for me. Luckily, Adam fell short on the photo-taking once again..thus saving me years of embarrassment.
The next day, I went out there and figured out where we went wrong. We missed the connector, but if the trail were better marked, we wouldn’t have had any problems. I have since “re-marked” the connector, and am looking forward to scouting/pre-riding this course again very soon. When this race-course finally comes to fruition, you better be there and you better pack a lunch.