Just across the border

Big fake sheep

[content note: Lots of stuff about eating, and not eating]

It's been over a year since I last did a 200 km ride. With the pandemic, there have been no organized brevets, water fountains and restrooms at parks were closed, and I didn't feel comfortable doing my usual gas station stops. With three water bottles this limited me to 120 to 140 km, depending on the heat. With a statewide mask mandate and the research on mask effectiveness, I felt okay embarking on a longer ride and refuel at gas stations when necessary. This Saturday conditions looked perfect. A high of 28°C (80 F), mostly calm winds from the NE, sunny.

The destination for the ride was a certain retail establishment located just across the Illinois border in South Beloit. The Strava route builder did a good job of suggesting a route, and I didn't have to spend too much time fine-tuning it to collect a couple more Explorer tiles along the way. The total distance was 196 km. Far enough, but I figured I could always add a little detour or two to make it to 200.

Because I would have the wind in my back for the first half of the ride, I didn't want to leave too early. No point in riding with a calm tailwind, only then to ride back when the headwind is strongest. This was fine by me and accommodated my usual slowness in getting ready in the morning. Two coffees and one bowl of oatmeal in me, I was won the road by 7:18am.

My recently repainted Gunnar was in tip top shape (minor rear derailleur indexing issues aside) and I felt great. As predicted, the wind wasn't strong but definitely in my back. At the current speed I calculated that I could be at the turnaround point well before noon.

The Peace Trail follows the Rock River and will eventually connect Janesville and Beloit

One thing I have been struggling with on long rides lately is eating. My glycogen stores were still full of yesterday's pasta and the bowl of oatmeal. I know I should keep eating all throughout the ride, but in the first couple hours into the ride I just didn't feel like it at all. I had had some vague plan to stop in Janesville, about 75 km in, but then of course my route didn't really go through Janesville but around it on the lovely Peace Trail. So by the time I got to the Road Ranger gas station in South Beloit, my turnaround point, I had only had one Clif Bar and one bottle of water. There I bought a bag of dill pickle chips, a bag of actual pickles, and a bottle of V8, but only half the bag of chips and drank the V8. I kindasorta knew that this wasn't going to be sustainable, but bike brain also stopped me from doing something about it.

Well, it did go alright for another hour on the return leg, but then my body started sending some "cough, cough, didn't you forget something??" messages. The first sign was that the lukewarm, slightly plasticky water in my bottle suddenly tasted absolutely amazing! I quickly downed my remaining two water bottles and set my eyes on finding a gas station quickly. It didn't take long until I got to Footville. The gas station looked vaguely familiar from previous rides and I bought a whole gallon of water. So far, so good. But apparently taking care of one bodily need made me lose track of that whole eating thing. I really enjoy sitting down on a nice bench to eat, and neither the gas station nor the Footville Memorial Park offered such amenities. "Ah well, instead of following the signs to Footville Community Park, which would take me slightly off route, I'll just keep going and stop in Evansville! Can't be more than 20k!" Yeah, I know.

Next bodily message, at the bottom of a hill, probably halfway to Evansville: "I'm not going to ride up there unless you feed me. Right. Now." Who's to argue with that. I just stopped on the side of the road and ate both a Clif Bar and a Clif Shot. This was enough to get me to Evansville, where I stopped at Lake Leota Park. I finished the remaining half of the chips and the pickles (note to self: pay attention and don't buy the spicy pickles) and kept drinking more water. This was plenty to console my body and get it ready for the remaining 50 km.

Have I mentioned that I like pickles?

I realized I couldn't make it back home by 4:20. (I'll leave it to my readers to figure out why this is relevant to this report). This provided a welcome excuse to add a couple kilometers and make a pit stop at the Hop Garden in Paoli. This is truly one of my most favorite spots, and a beer and a Pepsi were extremely delicious, 185 km into the ride. Once I got going again I noticed that my average pace had fallen just under 25 km/h. Not that it really mattered, but it provided a boost of motivation to get it back up to 25 and complete the 200 km in under 8 hours riding time. There are a couple minor hills Paoli and Verona -- not exactly conducive to raising the average speed -- and I did what my legs allowed me to do. Once I reached the Military Ridge Trail I was able to push the pace. And indeed, the display of my Wahoo jumped from 24.9 to 25.0 km/h maybe 5 minutes before I reached the 200 km mark, just at the city limits of Madison. Pretty good for a solo ride.

This was a great ride, and despite the eating/drinking issue I felt pretty good the whole time. Nonetheless, I'd like to figure something out about the eating issue. Maybe strictly pre-planned stops? Bring real food like I used to do on brevets? Set up an obnoxious alert on my phone or the Wahoo? Maybe embarking on a 300 km route, or a 200 km with more climbing will force me to come up with a solution.

It's been a while: Blue River 200k

My last brevet was in 2013, back when I still lived in Montreal. One major advantage of the brevets in Montreal was that they started within riding distance from my home. Not so much in Madison, where the choice was to either ride with the Driftless Randonneurs out of Richland Center—a 60-mile drive—or with the Great Lakes Randonneurs out of Delavan—also 60 miles from Madison. So while over the years of living here I had been interested in doing brevets again, in the end it never happened. Too much hassle for someone living without a car.

Things changed this month. Two weekends ago, a friend and I rode to Milwaukee, starting at 3 in the morning. I thoroughly enjoyed that 145 km (90 mi) ride. And so when my friend Andy asked on FB whether anybody was interested in a 200 km or 300 km brevet with the Driftless Randos, I was all ears.

Kevin was in as well, and he offered to give me a ride. We drove toward Richland Center on Friday evening after work. Andy met up with us for dinner in Spring Green at Freddy Valentine's, a lovely pub in a historic bank building. Andy spent the night in his Bike Mobile van, and Kevin and I stayed at the Ramada White House Inn. Yes, it's themed after that White House, meaning it has cheesy portraits of various US presidents inside, a half-collapsed awning pretending to be a prostyle portico, and a giant US flag flying in front of it. At the front desk we were warned that a high school class was staying near our room and if they were too noisy, we should just call... Well, the beds were comfortable and the students were quiet. At 6 am we were ready to roll.

Our group was about 15 riders strong. The 200, 300, and 400 kilometer routes shared the same course until after the first control. The whole group stayed together in a fast paceline, and it only took us 1 hour 18 minutes for the 23 miles to the control in Spring Green. Kevin and I got back on the road quickly, but not before 4 or 5 other riders had already left.

Pacelining into Spring Green (Photo: Andy Quandt)

We did catch up to one rider, and we stayed with him until the 300 km or 400 km course that he was on took him in a different direction. From the Wisconsin River in Spring Green, the three of us had the first of four big climbs ahead of us. The grade was subdued, rarely requiring us to get out of the saddle or even getting into the small chain ring. So far this season I had done few rides with significant climbing, and so I was committed to taking it slow on the hills. Kevin, who has ridden way more than usual this year, also took it easy on the climbs. Partly because of some back issues; partly because his drivetrain made it difficult to get onto the largest cog.

The next control came soon. The Hyde Store—which in typical Wisconsin fashion isn't a store but a tavern—was deserted at this time of day. We walked around the building, just to be sure we weren't missing anything, but eventually we decided to just note the time in our control cards and take a selfie as proof of passage.

Hyde Store control

The route now took us toward Governor Dodge State Park, and I started recognizing some of the roads from previous rides. Two more climbs were between the Hyde Store and the next control in Highland, which would also be the half-way point of the ride. Kevin and I stayed together, but he was clearly the stronger ride and I sat on his wheel for significant amounts of time. I started to fade a little and was excited at the prospect of a slightly longer break in Highland.

The BP gas station in Highland was hopping when we arrived. We were confused by our brevet cards, which indicated that this was an info control—but didn't provide us with a question to answer! I bought two small bottles of V8, a pickle in a bag, and a gallon of water to share. On the bench outside I had one of the peanut-butter-tofu-and-kimchi sandwiches I brought (I couldn't really argue with Kevin's assessment, “That's weird”). After a couple minutes, three other riders including Andy arrived as well. Sitting down and having food helped me feel refreshed. But I was also still a little chilly, as the day had warmed up less than forecast. In retrospect I probably should have had a Pepsi or some other sugary thing, but I wanted to save that boost for later in the ride and I was also counting on the route being downhill to the next control.

All five us rolled out of Highland together, but we were separated quickly. Because the bathroom line at the BP had been long, me and Gabe had to take a quick stop on the side of the road. Whereas Gabe on his fancy Pinarello was able to catch up with Kevin and Andy, I gave up the chase quickly and rode at my own pace. Which wasn't particularly fast. Highway Q followed the wide Blue River valley toward the Wisconsin River. The highlight of this section was spotting a bald eagle on a tree; the low was being chased by a St Bernard.

Kevin and me (Photo: Andy Quandt)

As I got to the gas station control in Muscoda, I knew it was high time for sugar and caffeine in form of a Pepsi. All five of us headed out together again, with the next control being only a few kilometers downriver. On the dead straight highway 133 we were battling a stiff headwind at this point, and I think we were all very glad that Gabe took a strong pull all the way form Muscoda to Blue River. Here it was time to cross to the northern shore of the Wisconsin River again, with a quick control stop at a gas station. The Pepsi had done its job at this point and I felt much better. So much so that heading out of the gas station I unintentionally rode away from the group for a little bit. After going east on Highway 60 for a little bit, we turned north onto Highway E. The highway follows the valley of Mill Creek, and for the first time of the day we were able to catch a tailwind. Kevin, Andy, and I rode together, making good time. The valley very gently climbs for almost 20 miles.

Andy and me (Photo: Kevin Mulcahy)

Only once we turned onto Patch Hill Drive did the grade pick up. I shifted to the small ring and took it slow. I could definitely feel the kilometers in my legs and I didn't want to blow up in the last stretch of the ride. Ultimately, the climb was pretty short and I arrived at the info control on top of it not much after Kevin and Andy (who was slowed down by having to answer a bike shop call as he was climbing...). And not much after, the two other riders arrived on top as well. After we had counted the number of zip ties on the street sign, we departed for the final leg of our journey. The climbing was done for the day, but now we were riding into the wind again. With the final destination close, the group fell apart. Kevin and Gabe pushed ahead, followed by Andy; I was slowly falling back, and somewhere behind me was Bill.

Bonking, but not too bonked to take silly selfies

Not far from Richland Center, the Man with the Hammer came for me and made me pay for not eating enough. I snarfed down some more peanut butter pretzels and just made peace with the fact that the remaining few kilometers would be slow. A quick bathroom stop and eagle selfie on the outskirts of Richland Center helped me regain my composure and after 9.5 hours I arrived back at the White House. I was very happy with my time. The route had been great and the cue sheet accurate.

Even though it had been a hard effort for me (and I was really thankful for Kevin and the others whose wheel I could sit on), the next day I could hardly wait to get back on the bike again and ended up riding 50 kilometers (30 miles). I still very much enjoy riding brevets, but the complicated logistics probably mean that I won't do them all that often. I know that there are some permanent routes starting out of Madison, and maybe we can organize a little event around here to do them in a larger group.

The ride that has it all: Covey Hill 200k

Yesterday I rode what is one of my favorite routes in the Monteregie region south of Montreal.

 After riding on the St. Lawrence Seaway dike and a short section through the suburbs on the South Shore, I headed south on this great road. Having been repaved only last year, it's super smooth and has almost no car traffic.

 On one side of the road is a little river, on the other side agricultural lands and pretty little houses with old trees in front of them.

 The wind turbines were spinning rather slowly today, with the wind seemingly changing direction all the time.

 After a short stretch on highway 221 into Saint-Michel I was back on another long, straight, and quiet back road. Rue Principal ends at a T intersection, and once you turn left the asphalt soon turns into gravel.

 With the 35mm tires on my Cross-Check this was pleasant to ride, and for kilometers the only other person I encountered was a farm worker on his MTB.

 The soil here is rich and dark, forming a pretty contrast with the green tones of the freshly planted vegetables. The landscape is still all flat here, but in the distance one can see the foothills of the Adirondacks.

 After the gravel section ends, the landscape turns from fields into a forest with lots of wild flowers lining the sides of the road. Last time I rode here the pavement was rather rough, but most of the road must have been repaved recently.

 In Hemmingford, a charming little town, I stopped for lunch. There are several nice-looking restaurants and cafes there, but I just had my PB&K(imchi) sandwich and two 1.5l bottles of water on a bench in front of the town hall.

 Just before the US border, the route now turns west towards Covey Hill. On Sundays there is quite a bit of tourist traffic on this road, but it's still not too bad. The road is a mix of little rollers and several long false flats. In the blistering noon sun this was quite draining.

 But hey, the orchards, old churches, and stone walls along the way provide plenty of distraction.

 The actual Covey Hill doesn't look like much from a distance, but the last bit up is quite steep, especially after having done all the previous false flat climbing.

The compensation for the climbing comes with the gentle downhill on the other side of the hill, passing through green maple forest and crossing gurgling little streams. You can also catch a distant view of the Montreal skyline and Mont Royal (too distant for me to get a decent picture), but you have to pay attention, as most of the time trees are blocking the view in that direction.

In Saint-Antoine-Abbé I had planned on having an espresso break at the local bakery, but unfortunately they are closed Sundays and Mondays.

??? No idea what this refers to

 Heading northwest now, I passed through a distinctive landscape featuring flat rocks, little swamps, and stubby hard pine trees.

 And an explosives factory.

 Once I reached the Chateauguay River I saw an old railway bridge just a little bit down the road and decided to check if this was part of the bike trail I had read about earlier. And indeed it was. The trail wasn't finished yet, but the bridge was easily passable.

 Now the route turn north and follows the Chateauguay River. Pretty much all car traffic happens on the other side of the river and I only had to share the road with the occasional motorcyclist and a few other cyclists.

The visitor center of the Battle of the Chateauguay historic site appears to be permanently closed, but there are numerous informational markers along the road.

Took me a while to realize that they were reusing the rear sides of other road signs...

In Sainte-Martine I said goodbye to the river and headed towards Saint-Urbain-Premier. From here on the route can feel a little less awesome. However, that's not so much because it's actually bad, but more so because the other parts are so great. And maybe also because my behind started to get pretty sore...

Back in Sainte-Catherine I made a quick stop at the kitschy shrine of the eponymous saint and decided that instead of taking the direct way home on the Seaway dike I'd stay on the South Shore and cross the St. Lawrence via the Jacques Cartier Bridge. This would add a few kilometers but avoid the risk of riding through the thick cloud of insects that is almost guaranteed to be around at this time of year and day on the dike.

This turned out to be a good idea, as once I got to the little park on the de la Concorde bridge near the Old Port I encountered huge swarms of moths circling around the tree tops. Riding through this would not have been fun.



In the end the ride clocked in at just under 200km. I highly recommend this route, and if 180km (this would be the length had I returned via the Seaway dike) are too long, one could also turn this into a two-day trip, as there are a few campgrounds near Hemmingford and Covey Hill. I've written about this ride before, and you can find a cue sheet for a mostly identical route in that post.

First 200 of 2013

This winter in Montreal was much harsher and longer than last year's and therefore I hadn't gotten too many miles in so far. Yet, May marks the beginning of the brevet season, with a 200k. I probably won't be able to do any brevets next year, as we'll be moving to a town with a rando club and I therefore wanted to get a good number of rides in this year.

Important things first: Once again, I managed to not put back my memory card into the camera. I really hate it when that happens, especially when there would've been many opportunities for taking pretty pictures on this nice and sunny spring day.

The ride was scheduled for 7. I got out of bed at 5:30 and my usual slow morning self completed the last bits of preparation necessary. Other than forgetting the memory card, I also failed to prepare sandwiches -- something I would dearly regret later. The forecast for the day was a high of 24°C and pure sun. Given how pale I am after the winter and having seen my SO getting badly burned from a relatively short run, I decided to play it safe and wear my longsleeve wool jersey.

When I arrived at the starting point, there was already a big crowd of riders assembled -- possibly the largest number I'd ever seen at a CVRM event. Jean, our club president, quickly explained the rules of the ride for the newcomers and after the obligatory group picture we headed out. I stayed with the front of the group, and riding through the quiet morning streets in a pack of 15 to 20 riders at high speed was exhilarating. Once we got out of the suburbs, a group of 8 or so cyclists increased the tempo further and after a short attempt of keeping up with them I let myself fall back and rode by myself for a while. While I had my first Clif Bar of the day, I was caught by another group of 6 riders and we stayed together until the first control stop at 41 km. On the way there, I -- for what I think the first time of my life -- managed to drop my water bottle while being near the front of the group. Fortunately, nobody was hurt and I was able to retrieve the bottle, but I was rather embarassed.

Going with my usual policy of keeping the control stops short, I only had my card signed, went to bathroom and headed out again before the rest of the group. After a couple minutes it dawned on me that I hadn't refilled my water bottles because somehow in my mind the next rest stop would be before getting to the big climb of the day. A quick glance at the cue sheet, however, confirmed that that was not the case and I therefore bought a bottle of Gatorade at the next gas station. The lost minutes, of course, meant that the people behind me would soon catch up with me. I considered hanging on to them but they were just a tad bit too fast and I therefore continued by myself.

The route had been flat so far, heading straight south towards the US border. At the last turn before the crossing, we then turned west and rode parallel to border. This was also where things started getting hilly. It starts out with gentle rolling hills and a lot of false flats and I started feeling a little exhausted. This was exacerbated by my maladjusted rear derailleur that kept ghost-shifting into a higher gear. On the other, this stretch of the route is also the most scenic part. Vineyards and orchards, old stone walls, and nice views (you can see a bit of it here). The final climb up Covey Hill was mean, as always, but I made it up, huffing and puffing.

The following downhill to the next control stop quickly made me forget the hard work, though, and soon I arrived at Boulangerie Chartrand, which was as busy as usual, both with regular customers and other randonneurs. I only had an espresso and a Clif Bar, refilled my bottles, re-applied sunscreen, fixed the derailleur, and headed out again, once again by myself. The sun was burning by now which on the one hand made me glad to have the protection the long jersey provided, but on the other hand also made me pretty hot. Once again, I was being passed by the group of people I'd been playing cat-and-mouse with. The route out here was again all very quiet -- there's only one little town, Saint-Chrysostome, on the 60 km between rest stops 2 and 3.

Having a properly working derailleur was nice, but now I had to struggle with a headwind (even though it seemed to switch directios many times during the course of the day) and me being absolutely sick of eating and drinking sweet things. This is not uncommon for me, but usually doesn't happen as early. I dreaded having to eat yet another Clif Bar and longingly thought about those savory sandwiches I never ended up making. My feet were also complaining, but in the end I made it to the third control stop (which is the same as number 1). A few other riders were there, fixing someone's flat, and this time they actually headed out before me. The V8 and coke I had had at the control made me feel better, as did the knowledge that only a good 40km were left until the finish.

Just before reaching the outer limits of the suburbs I was caught by yet another group. This time, I did ride with them and had a nice conversation with one rider who was doing his first fixed gear 200k. We arrived at the final control at 15:37, a good 8.5 hours after the start. Given how early in the season it was and that I had ridden mostly on my own, this was a surprisingly good time and I didn't feel too bad. I also seem to have avoided getting burned by the sun. Overall, a very happy ride!

Ride report: CVRM 200km Brevet

After the tough but successful 147km Populaire in late April, I was determined to do at least one 200km brevet this season. I missed the first opportunity in May but last weekend there was another one scheduled.

Great summer morning riding

Rolling hills

 As per usual, I didn't get much sleep the night before and at 4:47--13 minutes before my alarm was going to go off--I got out of bed. Despite my attempts to prepare as much as possible the night before, my slow morning self still had to do a couple of things and I only got going at around ten past 6. My ride to the start leads across Île-Sainte-Helene and I was lucky to still get through, as there were already barricades and plenty of security people in preparation for the Formula One Grand Prix weekend.

Rando-panda cockpit shot

After the obligatory group picture, we got going a few minutes after 7. Overall there were, I believe, 9 or 10 riders and I started out with the lead group of 4 others. As I tend to stop at traffic lights and only ride through stop signs carefully, I fell behind the group a couple of times but always caught back up when they got stuck at a traffic light. Like on the populaire, the route led south but on a slightly different route due to construction. By the time we had gotten out of the suburbs, one of the four riders had gotten ahead and quickly disappeared in the distance. The speed of the other three was just a bit too high for my taste and I stayed a bit behind all the way to the first control at a gas station in St. Cyprien, after 41km. From there to the second control I stayed with the three others.

One of several vineyards and cider mills on Covey Hill Rd

Covey Hill in the distance

The route took us pretty much straight south towards the US border, parallel to the A15. The weather was lovely, the roads were scenic and quiet, and I was very much enjoying myself. At the "last exit before the border" we then turned west towards Covey Hill which I had just climbed a three weeks ago. Before getting on the actual Covey Hill Rd, there was a horrible but fortunately short stretch of very rough gravel road. After that the initially gentle and rolling climb to Covey Hill began. Me and one other rider of the group had an easier time with the climbing and after a while we each went off on our own before regrouping at the top of the hill. The last bit of Covey Hill felt pretty mean again, but I arrived on top first. The rest of my group arrived after a few minutes, almost at the same time as those riders who so far had been behind us. From here to the second controle it was all downhill which, despite the poor road conditions, was very enjoyable.

Gunnar on top of Covey Hill

View down Covey Hill's western flank

Controle 2 was a nice change to the usual gas station/depanneur stops: Saint-Antoine-Abbé is a tiny village but it features a lovely bakery, Boulangerie Chartrand. Of course, they didn't have anything vegan but that was alright. I refueled with an espresso, a can of V8, and a homemade lemonade. With a group of nine riders arriving and the usual customer traffic the rest stop took fairly long but the folks I had been riding with previously were also eager to get on the road again.

Their pastries looked awesome

The next part of the ride would lead us back east, and the roads we were riding were awesome. The espresso (my first caffeine of the day) worked wonders and at some point I decided to ride ahead at my own speed. After a while, another rider from my previous group caught up with me and we rode together until the next rest stop. For most of the time we shared the work and were going at a very good clip. Only for the last 20 km before the controle, my partner was starting to bonk a bit and I pulled for the rest of the way. This didn't slow us down too much but it definitely drained my energy reserves; and we were both very happy once we got to the gas station controle. I had just started drinking my bottle of Pepsi when the 5 riders of the bigger group and after another couple of minutes our two riding buddies arrived, too.

On one stretch of road there were dozens of telephone poles with stuffed animals nailed to them. Very weird.

With only 40 km to go I didn't feel like hanging around for too long and thus headed out by myself ahead of the others. As I was now riding mostly into the wind I kind of expected to be caught by the others but that didn't happen. My speed was still decent and at 3:47 pm I reached the final controle. I would have gotten there at least ten minutes earlier but my bike computer and the cue sheet didn't quite match and I therefore rode past the controle and had to turn around.

On the way back from the ride finish. Masses of people at the Grand Prix

To conclude: this was a great ride, both in terms of performance and of experience. I was fast (moving average of 27.8 km/h), the route great, the weather awesome, and never during the ride did I feel particularly crappy. Next stop: 300km.