Uncompatible Systems

After completing the 1500 kilometers of the New Jersey super randonnuer series on a road bike, I decided it was time to attempt a lighter distance with a fixed gear. My option was the NYC 300k. It starts and and ends in Manhattan and has over 13,000 feet of elevation gain. The forecast was for highs in the 90s. Perfect. Like most of my cycling adventures I’m jumping into this one with absolutely no point of reference. I knew this was going to be a great challenge. This is why there are no photos. All of the spectacular spots were consumed by determination to make it up or down these great hills. My mind wasn’t in to the pictures.

I look at my bike. A steel track frame made by Somec in the 1970s. No braze-ons, steep angles, tiny clearance to even attempt to mount a brake on the already drilled fork. Somehow I get the bike reverse-converted into something more comfortable by the start of the event. Road bars, double water bottle holder mounted to the seatpost, brooks saddle, front break for those mountain descents, road pedals, 48×18 gearing. It’s more comfortable, but it’s still a track frame.

Despite this event’s somewhat local starting line, I wake up at 2AM to begin the ride from Brooklyn to the upper west side. As Grant and I ride this morning, we watch all the Saturday night revelers walk dazed through the streets, as their evening comes to an end. Manhattan at night on a bike. Silent but full of energy.

Fortunately, we run into another rider as we get lost. He corrects the location, 103rd, not 108th. We arrive almost an hour early. Mordacai and Laurent are there, and sunny as usual. A new rider but older friend, Chris is there ahead of us. This is his first brevet. Bike inspection. Registration and we ride through harlem and the bronx at 4 in the morning. This route is amusing, as we pass countless night clubs shutting their doors and turning into after hours clubs. Riding in the city with a cue sheet is hard, since I’m inclined to just take the most direct route and dodge cars. I resist the urge and stay with the pack. I can’t tell how many are accustomed to city riding. Very few others know that just 12 hours earlier I was finishing an illegal alleycat race, Rumble Through the Bronx 4.

We get out of the city and into Yonkers and then Scarsdale. It is absolutely beautiful here. Grant and I express a shared desire to have homes in this neighborhood. This was my favorite part of the whole ride. When we arrive into White Plains, the hills begin but they are tolerable. Once out of White Plains and into the mountains, I hear a loud pshhhhhh coming from behind me. I know it’s Chris but I need to make sure. I look back and I don’t see his pink jersey and yellow bike. Grant has dropped me with his spinning skills and I have to sprint to catch up. We stop and wait for Chris to roll down the hill after changing his flat. 10 minutes go by. 15 then 20. He’s not coming. That’s not like him. Grant rides up to check it out. He returns alone. Chris’s tire was destroyed. He’s out of the race but was still cheery. He said he’d take care of himself.

When we roll into the first checkpoint, there’s Chris and Laurent, chatting and looking far from worried. Chris isn’t going to waste his morning on a train. He sticks with Laurent until the lunch checkpoint in Dover Plains. Getting from White Plains to Dover Plains was brutal. Mountain climbs with 70 gear inches, steep descents at 180 rpm into stop signs. The sun was approaching it’s peak. We almost ran out of water. A mile before the checkpoint the mountain we’ve been roaming through for a while suddenly ends with a steep-windy-road-your-car-will-tip-over sign. We descend at a ridiculous pace that I can only describe as “totally gnar”. The MASH San Francisco crew would be proud.

After an awesome lunch of baked ziti scilliano (egg plant and putanesca sauce) we wish Chris a goodbye as he boards the metro north and we continue on to Danbury. This part of the route is really, really hot. I don’t remember much aside from somewhere along the way climbing up a 1.5 mile dirt road that reached 25% grade at the last .4 miles. Yes, the last .4 miles were walked. I found the limit of how hard I can push 70 gear inches over dirt. Walking up that last stretch was still a considerable challenge. Grant and I are laughing now, since we’ve been joking with each other all day about who was going to walk this part. We both did and he got there first, so I had to meet his mark. I think it was the hardest bit of cycling I’ve ever done.

Invigorated from the humor of walking a track bike up a dirt road in the mountains, I start again down the other side of what I just climbed. This course has literally zero flats, or so it seems with a fixed gear as there is no break from the spin. We ride and ride, through 90 degree heat, demolishing water and liquid food. I think to myself “what am I doing here again? When this this sillyness start?” A history of my life runs through my head and I try and pinpoint one single decision that led me to even think about doing something like this. I can’t find it. Whatever. I’m doing it now so I better finish.

We roll into Danbury. Laurent is waiting at the checkpoint and I immediately tell him he was right, I had to walk. He comforted me by admitting he was “in the granny” when he did the test ride. I only realize how hot it is when I get off the bike. Then I glance at an electric sign across the parking lot. It says 34 degrees…Celsius. I know this converts to around 90 Fahrenheit. I start drinking lots of water and eat a cliff bar. I usually don’t even like sitting down in heat like this, let alone riding a bike.

Leaving Danbury is uneventful. It’s hot and I’m starting to zone out, getting tired from the meager 2.5 hours of sleep I got only hours before the start. Randonnuering has taught me something valuable; I don’t need sleep. We climb, descend, climb, descend. Then, another dirt road at 25% grade. This one has many more rocks and my tire won’t grab with all the leverage I’m pushing. I get off again, walk some fractions of a mile that feel much longer than that. We roll into the final checkpoint before Manhattan. Laurent is there once more. He’s cheery despite the meager accommodation of this checkpoint, which is a gas station in Scarsdale. I recognize it from my first years of moving to NYC. My roommate’s family lived up this road. Laurent steps back and looks at us and lets out another great quote, “a perfect randonneur dinner, soda and fig newtons next to the garbage in a gas station parking lot.”

Riding back into the city gets me excited. I can’t appriciate the scenery here, as I’m losing pace from sleepiness. Then suddenly, we enter the bronx. Grant and I look at each other. We agree we’re officially back in the city and we can start riding stupid again. We sprint down Van Courtlandt park drive. We’re dodging cars and…obeying all traffic laws. When we drop back into harlem all bets are off, the final miles of this ride are an alleycat! Grant take the lead down riverside drive. I’m in his draft. I pull ahead with some ridiculousness of my own, not knowing where this energy came from. I pull down to 110th st and we go side by side onto 104th. I pull into the finish with a spectacular skid down the wheelchair ramp. Success!

But it’s not over yet. We have to celebrate. We are both starving. Food and beer is 10 miles away. We tap into alleycat mode once again, this time unencumbered by the rules of the brevet. We dash downtown like we’re racing…for food and drink! I pull ahead, Grand digs in to follow. I make a move through a red light nearing Union Square and continue on Broadway to Spring street. I lose Grant. I think I’ve dropped him so I slow down when I reach the bridge. I’m over the bridge and waiting for his descent when my phone rings…

“hey, where are you?”
“I’m waiting for you, at the bridge”
“dude, I’m at Marlowe drinking beer”
“HOW’D YOU GET THERE!?”
“I took a different route”
“…”

I arrive and we dine on beer, oysters, cheese, steak and halibut. A prize well worth the fight.

This was my pre-race plan written before race day. The distance is a little off. Actual race notes are added in italics.

Kilometer 0 Macombs dam bridge crossing
The start is a descent into traffic. It immediately enters an Interstate exchange. There is a secret path going against traffic that puts you directly on Sedgwick ave. You can cheat, as most cars are exiting I87 thus are slowing. Cut them off to stay up front.

kilometer 1-3 Sedgwick to Roberto Clemente state park
Do not be intimidated by the “to I87″ signs. You are on a service road. This begins the first climb. It’s very light, only 19 feet of gain to the first checkpoint but do not sprint. It’s only the beginning and this race could be decided not by bursts of speed but by navigation. There are plenty of lights coming up to recover any gap that may have opened. Stay to the left as you approach Clemente state park.

kilometer 3-5 Grand concourse approach
There’s two options for this. Continuing on Sedgwick will produce another steady 28 feet of elevation gain, while changing to Cedar will give a short descent followed by half the gain in three quarters the distance. These two options would seem to equalize each other, though getting back to Sedgwick will require climbing a large flight of stairs. Which ever you choose there is a right turn at 179, left on university, right on kingsbridge and a hard left onto grand concourse.

kilometer 5-8 Grand concourse to williamsbridge playground
Your medium tempo will turn into a time trial right below threshold at this point. This would be a good time to open a large gap due to the potentially disastrous crossing at Mosholu parkway. On the concourse, take the middle path, as it’s wide and you can cheat on lights much easier. Hit van courtlandt with a soft right. Don’t miss it. Cross the parkway and hammer up the hill (only 15 feet of gain) as hard as you can. You’ll arrive at the checkpoint and keep your gap.

kilometer 8-12 Mosholu parkway to bronx zoo
Rest a bit as you backtrack on van courtalandt because you have another parkway time trial coming up, this time downhill. Make a hard left on Mosholu parkway and hammer down the decent, resisting the urge to coast. It is very fast so look ahead for the traffic light crossings. Descend into the botanical garden and make a hard right, continuing on southern blvd. Keep a fast tempo and your gap will increase, unless Austin is ahead of you at which point you should grab onto his wheel. Cross your fingers at east fordham road and cut across six lanes of traffic into the bronx zoo checkpoint across the street.

kilometer 12-15 Crotona park
Go against traffic on fordham road and make a hard left on Crotona ave. This is a false flat, so keep a steady cadence without getting to threshold. It’s a short section and you don’t need to try and gap anyone in this medium tempo urban section of the race. Ride smart and keep your gap steady.

kilometer 15-20 Crotona - Prospect - Longwood
Exit the park due east and cut across the pedi path one block from the Crotona Ave signal. Get ready for another short parkway time trial. A decent through the park becomes a slight ascent upon Crotona changing to Prospect. The time trial ends here and you’re back to medium tempo urban jumpiness. The lights are short but the road is wide. Use this advantage. Westchester is a six way intersection with elevated track columns. There is no way to understand which way traffic is coming from, dodge that car which was about to hit you cause you were on the wrong side of the street. Oh, and listen to your own advice next time. Hold your breath and bear left onto Longwood Ave, which descends onto Beck. Hard right onto Beck and sprint to the checkpoint.

kilometer 20-25 Bruckner blvd to Soundview park
Backwards on Beck to a right on Longview. Straight to bruckner blvd. North on bruckner, entering the bruckner expressway service road as you cross the bridge. Do not be intimidated and do not take the “bike path” which is really a chopped up dirt road. First right after the bridge into an industrial district. There could be truck crossings. Keep the pace steady. This could be a time trial. The top riders will try and gap people further here. If you see others, try and grab a wheel. If you are working with others, do it now. Continue to soundview park and take the bike path, not the stairs, they go to the same place. Be prepared to dodge children, babies, their parents and the occasional cricket player. Hit the checkpoint a ways into the park at the circle monument.

kilometer 25-30 Whitestone Cinema
Continue east on Randall, take the first left back to Bruckner. You can time trial this approach to increase your gap but let up before the crossing of four interstate highways you have to navigate right before the checkpoint. The approach is long enough that if you are working with others you would best do it now. At the interchange of I278, I95, I295 and I678 you will have a small bridge that bypasses all these expressway entrances. After you cross the bridge you must decisively make a left turn into traffic that WILL NOT SLOW DOWN FOR YOU, as they are just passing through on 278, 95 and 678. They are not exiting the expressway. The cars speed will be around 45 to 55 mph. If you get hit you will be killed. Catch your breath and ride into the parking lot. You have just completed the penultimate checkpoint. Congratulations on getting this far.

Kilometer 30-34 Bronx John memorial
Exit the cinema onto the hutch parkway bike path. At the first parkway entrance DO NOT CROSS, turn left onto the parkway and ride like the cops are chasing you. Take the first exit from the hutch onto ericson place, go north and bear right onto westchester ave, under the tracks. Stop at the 7-11 to pick up the sparks required to get a stamp. Get your alleycat on and dodge those cars. Even if you have a substantial gap, westchester is fast enough to make a decisive moment to gap others behind you. Reach the checkpoint right before bruckner blvd.

kilometer 34-41 City Island Time Trial
Take Pelham parkway/shore road into city island. This is where you skitch, this is where you be that asshole rider no one expects. It is a long flat road with lots of cars going from 10 to 45 mph. Pick one and grab on if they are going fast enough. When you get to city island, take the fire lane in the middle of the road, get in the drops and keep a fast tempo. Skitch as much as possible to keep your speed.

kilometer 41-47 Orchard beach
Back track out of city island at the same tempo. You did remember to save some energy, right? Recover from the excruciating muscle cramp that happened when you got back on the bike. Stretch, watch others pass you since you can’t ride right now. Lose a few places, eat energy gel and curse. Oh yeah, and listen to your own advice next time. You need to save something for a sprint to maintain your gap. Navigation is easy on this final time trial into the parking lot. Approaching orchard beach, go around the car turnstyles (whatever those are called). Take a deep breath, countersteer very wide and bunny hop the curb into the grass. Let you bike go and get your manifest signed.

Congratulations, you just won Rumble Through the Bronx. Or maybe got 15th place

My final PBP qualifying brevet

I’m not anxious this time. After 1100 kilometers in three races over the last month and a half, I have a routine down and I’m not intimidated about the cycling. I have new riding partners and friends and I gave my bike an overhaul the night before.

I’ve kept from calling these events races but the more I think about it the more I realize that it is a race. The opponent is time and fatigue, not my fellow riders. To me this makes it an even more valuable race since working together is something that’s encouraged, not cheapened by a team with one hero and a few domestiques. The history of randonneuring is older than the Tour de France. While Paris – Brest – Paris was once a race against your opponents, it is now a race against time. The organizer of this whole PBP qualifying series, Laurent Chambard, told a friend of mine that randonneuring “is the only sport that you don’t have to be that good at and your friends still think you’re a hero.” I don’t believe him completely, there are skills involved and they are diverse but his words are true. Anyone that finishes is a hero.

I start the evening before the race with fresh pasta and red wine courtesy of Grant. We sit outside of Dave’s house on the Jersey shore. The weather is warm and comfortable and the pasta is delicious. The pasta was made this morning from flour and a pasta machine and it is still soft. It’s edible raw. This is the first time I ate fresh pasta but certainly not the last. We have to start at 4 AM again but we agree that the race would span two days, so the total amount of sleep from start to finish is very important. Falling asleep at 9PM on a weekday is very difficult. Grant and I manage to get settled on guest beds at 9:30PM. Dave doesn’t get to sleep until 11PM.

The alarm rings at 2AM. Only 4 hours later for me. I jump directly into my clothes, clean up, eat and check the packing list. Everything is in order and the bikes are loaded into the car.

We’re early. Check in, bike and rider inspection, waiver, brevet card and magic pills. Part of what I like about this riding culture is the old-timey magic potion style. Some things have been modernized but it’s still the same old stuff, get water, get salt, balance them and go forever.

We start in the second field cause we weren’t at the front for the first. This is good since the three of us were the last ones out on the 400k and we ended up finishing a whole hour behind our predicted time. We’re off and rolling through the pre-dawn air. Our field is nice. A true peloton of about 30 riders. Unfortunately, this peloton scares easily. The slightest dip, bump, approaching auto or turn brings the pace down. Annoying.

I push up to the front and roll around for a few minutes with people I don’t know. The suddenly Grant passes me in the drops and yells “Lee, go!” Dave is behind him leaving enough room for me to get on his wheel. That’s it, we break away at a steady 21mph. It was a cocky move, especially since there’s absolutely no reason to break away from the field in a race like this except to amuse oneself. Of course this turns out to be our riding style and it’s keeps things interesting. Sprinting into a three person pace line with 1 mile pulls whilst carrying 30 pounds of gear is hi-larious! Only 355 miles to go.

The morning is nice. The first 100k is the same route as the last stretch of the 400k. Mentally this feels great since I had a hell of a time getting through this stretch last time. Now that it’s easy I chill and take in the scenery. The first checkpoint is 75 miles out at a park in Basto Village. We chill and eat a big breakfast. Chat it up with some of the first field who’s already getting ready to leave.

Then we’re off to Salem, the most depressing town in NJ. It is located next to a tributary off the Delaware river. It’s blight is complete. 12 noon on a Saturday and I see three people in the town square. Burnt buildings and storefronts, abandoned lots, rickety houses. Every person living here is bored to death. Cynical. And on top of that the pizza shop that is our lunch checkpoint sucks. Yea! I’m assuming Salem is a victim of changes in shipping routes or methods involving the Delaware river. Perhaps the NJ turnpike caused it’s demise. Perhaps the whole interstate system of highways and trucks made it’s infrastructure of rail and ship obsolete. Whatever it was the casualties of Salem don’t seem happy about it.

The sucky-ness of the pizza shop hits me 15 minutes after we get back on the road. This is where the route splits from the 400k and we continue on through Salem and over to some more abandoned shipping docks along the Delaware. I can’t pedal faster than 19 mph because of the lump of grease in my stomach. But that burns off in about 20 miles. The next checkpoint is 61 miles away and we are now in the hottest part of the day. It’s all and only farmland. The few buildings that we pass are abandoned or locked up. Direct sunlight everywhere. Swimming in humidity. I’m drinking steadily every 5 minutes. After 30 miles all three of us are out of water. 48 ounces in two hours. There’s nothing, no market, no fountains, no gas stations. Then we find the strawberries. That’s nice to have. Early season strawberries aren’t too sweet but they give a nice pick up. Then the second oasis arrives as I imagine dehydration and it’s effects.

I already have a short headache, so slight but I’m in tune with every part of my body so I get worried. My heart rate is high, we’re taking short pulls to get there faster while not burning out. Then I see sprinklers on a lawn. Lots and lots of sprinklers. I’m too exhausted to sprint up to the front and signal everyone to stop. I can’t drop off the back cause I’ll lose my group. I resign myself to the fact that I’m the only one who saw the sprinklers and push on through dehydration row. Then our newly found 4th member drops his water bottle…like a magic psychic message from me to him. We all stop to pick it up and I promptly jump into a total stranger’s lawn to play in the sprinklers. The other three notice this and it hits me that they truly didn’t see the sprinklers while we were rolling. They get excited and there we are, four grown men jumping through lawn fountains in rural New Jersey. It was rad.

On the way out we’re refreshed and water is refilled. Riding into the night is easy after stocking up at the gas station store that is the last daylight checkpoint. On the road we feel good to have completed half the ride before dark. One and a half hours later the sun sets as we pull into the atlantic city coast with a wicked cross wind. I start to feel like I’m going to lose it. I can’t take any pulls and I’m struggling to stay on the last rider’s wheel. Cross winds are blowing me over into auto traffic. I don’t have time to put arms on so I’m cold. It’s about 65 degrees but the wind is coming off the ocean so it’s particularly chilly. I fight it out and we take a break at the beach to put arms and legs on and warm up. I enjoy the salty air and the nighttime beach.

Then our route turns north and the crosswind becomes a tail wind! We get blown up the coast to complete the last 35 miles at an unusually fast pace this far in. These miles are the most fun of any night riding I’ve done. The road cuts through the many beach towns south of atlantic city. It’s too early to have drunk drivers and it’s just late enough for the streets to be lively. This is a inspiring break from the bleak hot desolate miles of the afternoon.

We roll over two large bridges, I climb them with new found lightness and there’s the last checkpoint for today; The Harbor Inn Motel at Sommer’s Point. It gets pretty weird here. We just rode 245 miles, it’s about 10:30PM and all I want to do is eat and sleep. Our organizer is there and volunteers are walking up and down the hall with food. This whole hotel has been taken over by sweaty bike racers. We fill out a form that specifies what food we would like for dinner and breakfast and how many hours we would like to sleep. We take the maximum alloted, three. We shower, eat and get to sleep at 11:30, expecting a wake up call at 2AM to eat and get on the road at 3:30. I could hardly sleep at all. This hotel ended up being a big waste of time for all of us. The constant stream of the slower riders coming into the hallway kept me awake. A false wake up call did so again. Grant’s alarm was an hour early and he kept hitting the snooze button. Then we realized our wake up call had past and we didn’t give a fuck. Back to sleep. Finally, at 4AM someone comes into the room and wakes us up with breakfast. We are now two hours behind our plans with no more sleep than if we followed them. I eat, get dressed and stretch out. Muscles haven’t tightened up too much yet. I’m tired as hell and the weak coffee didn’t do a thing.

I have this stage programmed into GPS. I get my legs back after leaving town and do my first and last pull of the day. It’s long, about 15 miles in the front but it takes everything out of me. Dave is feeling similar. We stick to the back after I’m done. Grant, as usual keeps the cadence high on his fixed gear and we all follow. I’m falling asleep. I have to spin my legs faster than normal to keep my heart rate up so I don’t fall alseep but my legs are tired so it hurts to spin that fast. Our pace has dropped from around 19 to around 17. Then it drops to 16 a few hours later. I’m thinking it’ll be a great idea to take a short nap while on my bike. That idea fails after about .5 seconds of closing my eyes when I almost ran into t ditch. We make it through the bleak landscape of burnt pine barrens and arrive at Lucile’s Country Cooking for breakfast at 8AM. I break and eat sausage. It tastes terrible but I felt like I needed it. I smoke a few drags from a cigarette, stretch out and feel refreshed again. We’re off on the road for the last 100 miles!

Things get real silent and painful at this point. I just want to finish but I know it’s going to be a long time before I do. We get to a gas station and there are already a bunch of riders sitting outside eating snacks. I go inside and Dave disappears. When I come out I look for him and discover he’s snuck to the back of the building and fell asleep. He wakes up and we continue for what feels like an eternity of only 35 miles to the last checkpoint before the finish. I felt like a troll with lead boots climbing up steel wire. Graeme Fife wrote that. Well said.

Rolling into the final checkpoint I get all happy. The thought of only 35 more miles to go is a great feeling. It’s again at a gas station so we get the usual snacks and start chatting it up. When it’s time to go we roll out, sleep deprived and dedicated and just keep pedaling. I tell myself that each crank rotation makes us closer to the end. We all drop pace to about 15, so drafting is kind of pointless now. It start raining a little. I actually have my rain gear and I’m happy to use it. As we roll into the finish line, it’s 3:20PM. I don’t care what place I’m in. I’m just standing there delirious.

My conclusions from this ride are significant. I need to learn to lack sleep and still perform. I need to learn how to eat right even though my body is telling my that home fries, pizza, eggs and sausage are a good idea. I need to get my legs and arms stronger so I can keep pace without the threat of bonking. Otherwise, this ride was well worth it. I’m done with Jersey for now.