06-26-2021 Bon Jon Pedal Bender

 Author:  Dwaine Trummert

As the day of the Bon Jon Pedal Bender gravel race approached Adam and I were not concerned about the distance. Eighty miles of gravel was well within our wheelhouse. The elevation gain of 8700 feet was more than nothing but not outside our comfort zone. Our main concern was the weather.

The Pacific Northwest was forecast for record setting heat and the Bon Jon Pedal Bender was scheduled for day one of the three day scorcher. Race strategy discussions were replaced with heat mitigation discussions. We rummaged our closets for our lightest kits. We added additional bottle holders to our bikes. We lowered our finish position ambitions.

Neither of us knew what to expect from the terrain over and around Bon Jon Pass. The elevation profile showed us that the first third of the route captured two thirds of the climbing. It also showed a tough climb at mile fifty. We opted for the long route which featured outer and inner loops that took us up and over the pass twice. The twice around format also made it easy for riders to opt out of the second ascent effectively letting them ride the medium length course.

Race day arrived with a finalized forecast of 98 degrees Fahrenheit for Quilcene. I hoped the shade and elevation of the forest might temper that number. My estimation was that we would see ambient air temperature on the course of 70 to 90 degrees for all but the final few miles.

We settled on a race plan that was fairly fluid. We hoped to start in an early wave. We wanted to put in some work early to get the bulk of the climbing behind us before the sun began to work us over. We needed to remain objective about the heat's affect in real time as the day progressed. We committed to safety over race results.
 
We crossed the start line at 8 a.m. sharp in the first wave of starters. This group of ambitious racers quickly found itself climbing in earnest. Within twenty minutes Adam and I let the leaders go up the road and found a more moderate pace. This part of the day went well. The roads were friendly. The promoter described sections of the course as 'rustic pavement' and that description was spot on. The majority of the gravel portions remained smooth. The air of the forest remained amenable.

At the 45 minute mark we were caught by a group of strong and steady riders that started one or two minutes behind us. We matched their pace and let them pull us across the short flats that punctuated the longer climbing pitches.

As we climbed we remained vigilant about hydration. All three of my water bottles were filled with Tailwind Nutrition Endurance Blend. Adam carried a similar load. We targeted a minimum consumption of one bottle per hour and repeatedly reminded each other to drink on schedule. After an hour of climbing the race appeared to be going as well as could be expected. Our spirits remained upbeat.

The first climb was long but manageable. The heat had not yet hit us. Adam was riding strong. Photo by Jesse Major.

Adam was feeling well and took a turn at the front across one of these flats. Foolishly I did as well. And that short effort became my undoing.

Within ten minutes of my turn at the front I needed to let our small group slip up the road. Adam followed my instruction to 'Go' with the group. I was forced to accept that I couldn't climb as well as I had just a few weeks ago.

I was working a bit harder than Adam when I came upon the photographer. But I was still happy to be racing my bike in the woods. Photo by Jesse Major.

I soloed for the next 30 minutes. I crested the first summit at mile eighteen. The road pitched down for five miles before pitching back up. Just a mile later I reached the first aid station where I was able to connect with Adam and our small group.

Adam and I are no strangers to fast aid station stops. A Payday candy bar was stashed in my pocket as I filled my two empty bottles. The group was not yet ready to go. The door to the portable bathroom was open. I took a preemptive visit only to find there was no need. This was a stark contrast from from my normal cycling urination schedule. A mental note was made that a bottle an hour might not be adequate as the day progressed.

One more mile of climbing laid ahead and I worked hard to stay with Adam. We crested Jon Bon Pass together. The road was twisty, potholed, and our group strung out a bit. At mile twenty seven the course turned off the more traveled gravel road and onto a narrow two track trail. The grade was slightly down, the trees crowded the trail providing shade, and the twists kept it interesting.

The two track trail was an excellent opportunity for me to make good on the time I lost on the climb. The trail weaved through the trees and I thoroughly enjoyed sweeping side to side as the trail wound its way around rocks, trees, and occasional puddles.

When the route re-emerged onto a more traveled road I expected Adam to catch me right away. As I kept an eye behind I found myself near a Silverdale Autoworks rider. We descended together and had time to chat a bit when we reached the flatter and paved Palo Alto road. This rider had ridden many of these roads as had his teammates. Shortly there after we caught one of his many teammates and a strong rider joined from behind to make a group of four. The riders from Silverdale Autoworks demonstrated their familiarity with the road and we took the descending portions at pace.

Mile 44 brought the second of four aid stations and the return to more rolling terrain. It also provided the thirty seconds necessary for Adam to bring us back together. We filled our bottles, I grabbed a bag of salty potato chips, and we remounted. With us was Andrew.

Adam and Andrew had joined forces before the aid station. Andrew was at least as strong as us and we welcomed his help on the flats.

The three of us pedaled towards our impending doom. I devoured my Ruffles brand chips. I was craving the salt. Adam was amused as they tickled my throat and I coughed half of them back up.

Adam and I shared with Andrew our final climb strategy. We had full bottles and were sipping constantly. We would climb at sustainable effort levels. We then took thirty seconds to remove and stow jerseys for maximum cooling. At mile fifty we reached Lord's Lake and the right hand turn towards Bon Jon Pass.

The turn at Lord's Lake onto Little Quilcene Road also marked a crossroads in course layout. Medium course riders skipped Little Quilcene Road and started their final five miles of pavement to the finish. Long course riders turned right to start the thirty mile inner loop.

As the three of us lamented the twenty foot chain link fence that separated us from the blue and inviting waters of the Lord's Lake reservoir the climbing began. Just five and one half miles separated us from the top of Bon Jon Pass. Unfortunately that distance also included the additional barrier of  2000 feet of climbing.

Soon enough each of us was fighting our thermal limit. There was no chatting. The dust from descending short course riders stuck to my perspiration covered skin. The road offered too little shade.

After just a mile Adam hailed me that he needed to slow. I stopped and we discussed his condition. He was being cautious and wanted me to go ahead at my own pace. We both knew cooling salvation could be found by reversing course and descending towards Lords Lake.

I dropped my pace a bit even as I climbed away from Adam. Andrew and I yoyoed back and forth as we climbed towards the aid station. I frequently dismounted and walked never letting myself come to a complete stand still. Andrew attacked the climb differently. He pedaled from shade to shade stopping at some for a moment of rest.

During one of my walks I told Andrew not to wait. I told Andrew I was a mess and not likely to go any faster. I told him, however, I would not give up. I did not give up. But I wanted to.

The aid station at mile 54 brought a momentary distraction from the heat. I wasted no time. I filled all three bottles, chose another salty snack, and told Andrew I would soft pedal up the road. Andrew was in no hurry and instructed me not to wait. One final look down the road did not reveal Adam.

Later I learned of Adam's experience climbing to the third aid station. The heat was having a profound affect. My earlier estimation of 70 to 90 degree ambient air was way off. Adam's Garmin saw 100 degrees F. He stopped to rest and cool. He considered turning around. Eventually he soldiered his way up to the aid station but chose to go no further. With four fifths of the climb behind him he made the safe call. He turned and descended.

My final mile of climbing hurt but seemed to go by quickly. I took in the relief when the gradient temporarily slackened. I choked on my chips again but did so without an audience. I found the top of Bon Jon Pass which marked the end of the serious climbing. The entire climb from Lord's Lake to Bon Jon Pass cost me three bottles of water and almost exactly one hour of time and provided much more misery than I had budgeted for.

The inner loop re-used a portion of the outer loop including the narrow two track. With re-found vigor I attacked this section. Instead of avoiding the puddles I found excuses to buzz them encouraging the spray from my front wheel to provide additional cooling. Near the end of this section I caught and passed a Silverdale Autoworks rider.

At mile 61 the course turned right. The remainder of the course was flat or down hill and remained on the straighter and more open roads. I hoped to find another rider to share the pacemaking. I slowed and looked over my shoulder. The Silverdale Autoworks rider filled my near field of vision and Andrew filled my far. I was caught by the Silverdale Autoworks rider. Andrew fell just short of connecting when the descending started.

The rider from Silverdale Autoworks knew this dirt road well and descended it perfectly. Only by keying off him was I able to match his pace. After five miles of gravel descending we reached a flat section. I had high praise for his descending skills and he had high praise that I kept up. He told me most people don't. I felt my chest puff just a little after his compliment.

A strong rider joined us from behind and the pace picked up. I took only a single pull over the next ten miles.

With five miles of descending left to go the road turned to pavement and I was dropped. The stronger rider powered away. The Silverdale Autoworks rider gave chase. He was as adapt descending pavement as gravel and gapped me at the first corner. I kept them in sight but lacked the strength to close the distance. The finish came none to soon and I was relieved to be off the bike.

Over the next thirty minutes my body and mind returned to normal. A water source was found to rinse away the sweat, salt, dust, and for a few minutes at least, the heat. A cold beer and lukewarm bratwurst rekindled my soul. Fresh clothes did wonders for my spirits.

On the day of the event we spoke little about our position in the race. Not until well after I finished did I learn that I scored 6th in 5h:56m:34s. I also learned I was within striking distance of both 4th and 5th positions who were just two minutes faster. The winner of my group, men's masters, finished about twenty-seven minutes faster than me.

My finish position sounded pretty good until I dug farther into the results. Only eleven of the twenty-eight riders registered in my class finished. I was unable to determine if the non finishers chose not to start or chose to ride a shorter course or abandoned all together. Either way the oppressing heat pushed down the number of long course finishers.

Adam and I reached some conclusions about our day during the drive home. Our legs did not limit our performance as much as the heat. The Quilcene area gravel roads were often lovely smooth right until they became potholed from ditch to ditch. We had no regrets about giving up a few minutes here and there to ensure we avoided heat stroke. We were relieved to be done with hottest and least enjoyable day of cycling in memory.

On the ride home I sent a simple text to my wife's inquiry about the race. She asked 'how did it go?'. My answer was crafted quickly and on the fly yet I cannot improve on the sentiment. Short and to the point I sent back 'pretty miserable'.