2021-09-19 Vicious Cycles Gran Fondo Soap Lake

Author:  Dwaine Trummert

Last Sunday, I raced the Gran Fondo Soap Lake with teammates Adam and Frank. This was a brutally long event that took a giant toll on my body. I didn't plan any gravel races after June and certainly wasn't training to race for 125 miles. Race day brought a number of surprises some of which turned out be pleasant.

Three weeks ago Adam asked me via text if I was interested in this new Soap Lake event. Within a day or two, he and Frank were signed up.  I capitulated soon after.  Adam and I usually plan these events well in advance, but we would be winging it this time around.

Although we hadn't raced with Frank, we knew what to expect. His climbing ability roughly equaled ours. His raw power towered well over ours. I had ridden with him on a few long gravel rides and knew he could handle himself off the road.

We did choose to coordinate one aspect of equipment. Adam and I ran our 32mm Continental GP5000 tires that were so fast for most of the Ephreta race. Frank went with a similar tire. Choosing similar tires meant we would all suffer slightly in the gravel, and we would all be equally speedy on the pavement.

Our race plan was one of necessity. We would ride in support of Frank. With Frank's high power Adam and I were unsure we could even be of assistance but we planned to try. We expected many hours pushing into the wind, and Adam and I are not best suited for that role. We were also frank with Frank. If there was a faster and or larger group to work with, he should feel no commitment to stay with us.

The route featured two aid stations which broke the course into thirds of about forty miles. Each third had it's own theme.

Photo courtesy shiggy Person

First third - climbing, sorting into groups, testing legs

The only sustained climb of the day started at mile 4.6 and extended less than 4 miles. As predicted, it splintered our start wave of 25 riders. Adam and I were a little surprised when Frank started to fade a bit. We kept our effort high until we neared the top. When the lead group of seven was about to crest, we took stock and dialed our effort back. Looking forward, we saw two riders who had recently been shelled out of the lead pack. Looking back, we saw Alistair - a friend of Frank's - pacing Frank up to us. When we crested, we hoped to become the first chase group of six.

When the pavement ended, so did our chance of keeping six riders together.

Adam and I were taken aback by the changed nature of the gravel. We had ridden this very road in March but the gravel was now dryer, deeper and looser. It squirmed under our tires giving little confidence. As the road tipped down, it laid bare the differences in descending comfort on loose gravel.

From miles twelve to nineteen, Adam and I relived some horrible memories. This was the same gravel road where we bucked a stiff headwind during the Gran Fondo Ephreta.

We used these miles to get a feel for our legs. We used these miles to work out which riders might work well together. I attempted to observe the riders around me in addition to the wheel I was following.

The highest elevation on the course came at mile twenty five. Adam and I knew this is where our lack of raw watts might be exposed, but - for the time being - we were pulling our weight. This is also where we encountered a stiff westerly wind. We immediately morphed into a five wide echelon formation stretching from center line to ditch. Elegant.

Adam, Frank, Alistair, and I made up the core of our group. Others joined. Some left. The count eventually grew to seven. At the two hour mark, we received our first real rest. A full four miles of paved descent down to Coulee City. Six minutes later, we pulled into the first aid station.

Middle third - settling in, looking around, measuring up

After just two minutes at the aid station, we were soft pedaling East down Main Street. We took it easy to ingest our food and water.

Once out of town, we merged onto Road 36 with nine miles of due East pavement ahead. We were chatting, eating, and looking over our shoulders. We were not surprised to see Alistair rejoin. A few minutes later, Brad closed the gap. With five solid riders we put our heads down and got back to work. Our increased pace allowed us to collect one more, and our group of six reeled in those flat and paved miles nicely.

Just before mile fifty, the pavement came to and end. Our sixth rider slowed for the gravel which left five strong well matched riders. We were working well as a group, and I hoped we could stay together until at least the second aid station. I also started collating my mental notes about the riders in our group.

• Frank, our leader, seemed quiet. Each time I checked in with him, he consistently reported he was doing OK.
• Adam was looking strong. He wore a wide grin more often than not.
• Alistair seemed solid. He said little, but on a number of occasions he pulled out of second wheel position and skipped a pull.
• Brad was riding to save energy. He was skilled at riding cross wind echelon formation even on gravel. He also skipped a few pulls.
• Like Brad, I was riding to save energy. I also minded my nutrition like clockwork.

At mile 52.7 we reached the Northeast corner of the course. All westbound legs would be into a headwind, and we faced a lot of "westing" to get back to Soap Lake.

At three and one half hours and 62 miles, I tested my assertiveness. As we approached a slight rise, I informed our group of five that we would all stop for a nature break. The land sloped away in all directions and we took in the view just long enough to make water. Twenty seconds later, we were back in formation and pedaling away.

After our quick break, I couldn't help but take more mental snapshots of the scenery. With blue skies and fluffy clouds dotting the horizon, it was beautiful.  

Miles and miles of rolling hills under a cloud punctuated blue sky. Photo courtesy Frank Colich.

 

I could sense the fatigue within the others as well as myself as we worked toward the second aid station. Fortunately, we continued to share the work; and I was thankful we remained five riders strong.

We rolled into the Wilson Creek aid station with almost exactly five hours of cycling in the books. Our stop ran long by design. Adam and I had discussed and planned to allow extra minutes to shake out our legs and unkink our backs.


Final third - Digging deep, some tactics, getting found out

As we rolled out of Wilson Creek, Adam and I had a short private chat. Adam was looking and feeling the strongest of the five. We were prepared to promote leadership to his shoulders.

We were barely out of town when we turned right off R3 NE road and back onto gravel. The first rolling hill went up at six percent and we began to string out. Frank faded off the back, and Brad asked if we would slow for him. I glanced at Alistair and Adam up the road and responded "It doesn't look like it."

That question demonstrated two new tactical factors. We were now riding for Adam in place of Frank. The weak link in Brad's chain was revealed.

I calculated we would remain a foursome for the next twenty five miles. I was way off. Two miles later, at mile 91, a four percent stepped climb that extended for two miles broke us further. Adam set a sustainable pace, and I held his wheel. Alistair and Brad failed to hold mine.

Over the next five miles, Adam and I pushed a stiff pace and watched our gap grow to 30 seconds. These miles were tough as we were working against a headwind. I was suffering properly. We passed a trio of riders from an earlier wave. All three were riding the same make and model that  Adam and I prefer: Ibis Hakka MX. Two miles later, I documented our gap at 45 seconds but also relayed some troubling news. The Hakka trio was working with Alistair and Brad. I watched my mirror over the next ten minutes. They were bringing us back. We sat up in disappointment. Effort wasted. My legs asked that we quit. I thought 'not yet'. Eleven miles after Adam created the split Alistair and Brad had closed it.

The next ten miles saw riders joining and exiting the group. The group grew to nine at one point, but not everyone was well suited to riding in formation. A surprise aid station at mile 105 contributed to the group's dis-function and also acted as a catalyst for the recent additions to opt out. The group was whittled down to known solid riders. Adam, Alistair, Brad, and myself. Plus one. A rider named John brought us up to five. He demonstrated his willingness to work and fit right in. Adam continued to demonstrate his strength when he was on point.

I did my homework for this gravel race. We knew the final climb would present itself at mile 117. We expected this climb would determine the finish positions. Before we could get to that climb the unraveling began in earnest.

We were at mile 111 when Alistair allowed a small gap to open on a short descent. He did not close it. I did not immediately notice he was dropped, but I did take note when Brad let a small gap open up on the next short climb.

My mental notes were clear. During the course of the day, I repeatedly observed Brad allow a small gap as we climbed each rolling hill. As the fastest descender in the bunch, he would then close the gap as we rolled back down.

On that short climb at mile 113, I observed the first half of the pattern as Brad let that gap open. At the crest, I took two seconds to scan the road forward and confirmed the scenario I had been waiting to see. The road stayed flat. With no descent, Brad would struggle to close the gap. I did my part to extend that struggle by jumping to the front for a long hard pull. When I was winded I flicked John past and - then - waved Adam off, so I could have John's wheel giving Adam some extra rest. One or two minutes later, I took the front and repeated my effort. My reward was neutralizing one more of my teammate's competitors.

These miles were tough as I kept my efforts up. My body relentlessly requested that I quit. My mind fought back. I accepted that I might quit - but only on specific terms. I wouldn't let myself give up until I blew up. As we neared mile 117, I had not yet blown up.

Behind us Frank was also suffering. He was doing most of the work solo and later reported that he saw some dark times during those final miles.

I had invested in getting Adam to the mile 117 climb in the best shape and with the fewest competitors. It was up to him to finalize the deal. He didn't. Not in the way I expected, anyway.

Adam set the pace up the final climb. He chose a pace that did not immediately break John nor me. I chose to work on John. We rode side by side, and I gave him permission to suffer less. I gave him permission to let Adam go. I sweetened the proposition by promising him the line before me. He told me he didn't care about finish position. I was skeptical. At the top of the climb, John dug; and we closed the gap up to Adam.

It looked like we would ride as a trio to the line. Just two point fives miles from the finish, we faced one small rise. Adam said nothing. Adam did not look over his shoulder. Adam upped the pace and floated off the front. My eyes were riveted to John who did not respond. I whispered that the offer was still good. John said he was done chasing.

Adam never did look over his shoulder. John and I enjoyed our conversation over those last few miles while we watched Adam power away to earn twelfth place. I stopped pedaling near the line and instructed John to pull ahead, but John stopped pedaling too. He really didn't care about finish position, and we coasted over the line just a second apart after putting in over seven and one half hours in the saddle.

Adam was waiting. The three of us had a nice chat as we soft pedaled through the town of Soap Lake. John was participating in his first Vicious Cycles Gran Fondo and enjoyed the ride and the scenery. Adam confirmed what we already knew. He felt strong all day. I revealed just how close to cracking I was during the final twenty miles.

Photo courtesy Roger Burton

Epilogue

The four hour drive home seemed easy compared to the time on the bike. We had plenty of time to analyze what worked and why.

We stayed within our limits. We chose to concede the battle up that first climb to make sure we could still stand at the end of the war. Through the middle of the race, we kept our efforts moderate and focused on recharging when possible. The second aid station stop, maybe the longest race day stop of our year, worked wonders to stave off crushing fatigue. As we neared the finish, we pushed just hard enough at just the right times.

In the past, race day tactics have fallen to Adam. At Soap Lake, I was finally able to make tactical contributions. None of my observations nor moves were race defining, but I demonstrated some improvement in getting my eyes open to the big picture while turning the pedals.

We smoothly pivoted to support Adam. We agreed Frank is probably the strongest among us, but Frank wasn't having his best day. Adam was. And by a lot. He demonstrated he was the strongest rider in the group all day long.

Gran Fondo Soap Lake was brutal. Full Stop. 125 miles of pavement and gravel. Seven and one half hours on a bicycle saddle. It allowed me to discover the quantity of punishment I am able to endure. Brutal.

Solid day of racing at Gran Fondo Soap Lake. We were pretty pleased with ourselves.

Acknowledgement

I didn't get to the finish line without a load of help. Frank and Adam provided the enthusiasm I needed to take on the challenge. Adam, Alistair, Brad, Frank, and John all put their noses into the wind for my benefit. Jake and Karen of Vicious Cycles Promotions were able to create Gran Fondo Soap Lake on a tight timeline. There were countless volunteers that worked the aid stations and registration desk and drove the support vehicles. Thank you for your support.

Adam and I have shared a great season of gravel racing. He has been my mentor on all subjects training. He has helped me see the big picture during our gravel racing. He has demonstrated and inspired the willingness to work hard for the success of another. He has allowed me to be part of a team of which I am quite proud. Thank you.