Gran Fondo Leavenworth - by Dwaine

I had confidence in my fitness going into this year's GFL. I had confidence in my race strategy and how it is dictated by the geography of the course. I had confidence I could finally set a new personal record around this eighty mile sufferfest of a race.

From a high level the course is pretty easy to generalize. Three thousand feet of climbing, descend down to the Columbia river, three thousand feet of climbing, and then descend back to the start. But the details of those climbs and descents create strategic opportunities for those of us who care to find them. I've done this route enough times to think I understood where all the seconds could be shaved. I was wrong.

The temperatures were mild. I started with arm warmers and a vest over my summer kit. The neutral roll out was pretty lax and I drifted back a bit to avoid the surging near the front. As we approached Eagle Creek road I moved near the front to hear the 'toot toot' of Jake's BMW GS1150 indicating the race was on. The pace of the lead group remained in my wheelhouse well past the turn onto gravel.

When the pitch really increased I dialed into a wattage I hoped I could hold to the top. This meant I dropped out of the lead group and then saw quite a few riders roll past. The gravel climb is about 45 minutes. By the half way point I was content as my legs were feeling good and I was still holding my power target.

Adding to my confidence was the company I was keeping. I briefly chatted with two cross racers who I know to be strong. Craig Undem said 'Hi' as he went by early in the climb. And I was amazed to catch Ian Tubbs at about the half way point of the gravel climb. (Editors note: Until this day Dwaine had _never_ passed Mr. Tubbs in a competitive event.)

As I neared the top I noticed my front water bottle cage swaying side to side under loose screws. I moved its full bottle to my pocket. I did not have a 3mm allen wrench with me. I asked other riders if they could access their tools without stopping but none could oblige. I guessed and hoped that an empty cage could survive till the aid station in Entiat.

When I crested I felt good that I had nailed the pacing on this first climb. I went hard enough to hurt but not so hard I would fold on the Swakane Canyon climb later in the day.

The descent down NFS-5800 is always a bit hairball. The top half is fast and fun with some boulders sprinkled in. My confidence in the corners allowed me to pass a handful of riders in this section without having to burn any matches.

The bottom half of the descent is more open and is littered with tooth rattling stutter bumps. In all my years I've never figured out how to get through the stutter bumps well. My bike and I felt like the stutter bumps were at their worse this year. Although I didn't notice it till later, the shaking allowed the stem to rotate twenty degrees on the steerer.

When the descent smoothed out I noticed one water bottle cage screw has jumped ship leaving my cage and frame pump to rotate on the remaining screw. This was causing problems. I ripped the pump off it's mount which allowed me to pedal again. When I reached the pavement I took 30 seconds to remove the remaining screw and stow the cage in my pocket. And also kick my front wheel back into alignment with my bars.

Riding down to Entiat is best done with a group. As I completed the maintenance my new friend Christian caught me. He complimented my descending skill and then we immediately got to work. Christian was way stronger than me. But I kept taking the best turns I could. I expected we would get caught by a larger group. And we did. But not until we were most of the way to Entiat.

Ian Tubbs was leading a strong group of about eight riders. I was happy to be in the larger group. I wished they had caught us sooner. (Editors note: Mr. Tubbs passed Dwaine at this point and then extended his gap over Dwaine by another twelve minutes before the finish.)

One of the techniques I employed at GFL was to sprint into the aid station. This allowed me to fill my two bottles quickly and not miss the paceline train before it leaves. To my surprise I missed the train. Because most of the Tubbs group did not stop. My tactical mind was blown.

It turns out on a mild day GFL can be completed on two bottles and a hydration pack. Dwaine got schooled on aid station tactics.

Fortunately Christian also stopped for water so I wasn't riding the ten mile stretch of the Entiat Highway alone. He pulled hard and hoped to bring back the Tubbs group but they remained just out of reach. My pulls were satisfactory at best.

When we turned onto Swakane Canyon Road I complimented Christian on his strength and thanked him for his mighty pulls. I usually take a minute or two pedaling at endurance pace to reset after the highway. I also use this time to get some carbs and liquids in. I let Christian ride away and he put in a solid performance on Swakane to finish seven minutes ahead of me.

As I resumed the grind I was pleased to see some of the Tubbs group just a few minutes up the road. This gave me some motivation to get back on the pedals. For the next one hour I put my head down and ground down the miles. Where the trail was steep I pushed as hard as was necessary. Where the trail gradient was shallow I capped myself at tempo wattage. And I took tiny rests when the trail angled down.

I felt confident in my performance. Catching and passing Craig Undem on the Swakane Canyon climb added to that confidence.

When I reached the final aid station I filled one bottle. I had caught a few riders. Just as importantly I was still maintaining my power target.

After the aid station there is a short flat sectuer and then come the final 800 feet of climbing. This last climb was emotionally brutal. Despite what felt like a great ride on great legs I was ready to be done. I was in the hurt locker during that final push.

The roads of the descent back towards the finish had changed a bit since I saw them last. Many were more rutted. One section was way smoother. I kept the rubber side down and looked forward to being done.

As I reached the pavement I was joined by two other riders. They were not keen on pulling down the hill. After coasting down the long gravel descent my legs were ready to work again. I lead most of the way back to Chumstick highway before finally flicking the elbow. They were willing to do some work but not as willing as I was. Because I was racing the clock I took some extra pulls to get us there as quickly as possible. I pulled them to and through the final sketchy turn and then let them sprint for 22nd and 23. I was happy to straggle in for 24th.

At the line my Garmin indicated I was pretty close to a personal best time for this course. The finish results did not support that conclusion. Nor did my Strava segment times up the key climbs. My legs were good in 2024 but that wasn't enough. Because my legs must have been spectacular in 2021.

After a day of reflection I am both disappointed and satisfied with my ride. I did ride a solid race. But solid wasn't enough. If I really want to set a PR  it's time to look back and discover some of that 2021 training magic.

Tour de Bloom 2024 - by Dwaine

My training calendar for early 2024 was tailored to prepare me for this year's Tour de Bloom. TdB is a three day four race stage race held under the hopefully sunny skies of Wenatchee WA in early May. This year my team, Fell Swoop, registered four riders for the 50+ 3/4/5 category. At the last minute Jude called in sick and we raced as a team of three.


Tour de Bloom - Friday - Waterville Road Race

During our warmup for the first stage Jonas and Anthony and I discussed strategy. Our earlier plan of supporting Jude was out the window when we learned Jude was ill. Our new plan to was to look out for each other as best we could during this first stage while still maximizing our individual finish results.

The weather was warm enough for me to wear my Summer kit. But the winds were building from the South. Fortunately there was no rain in the forecast. Another important feature of our race was the combination of our 50+ 3/4/5 field with the 40+ and 60+ fields.

As soon as we hit the first East-West road we were more or less lined up against the yellow line. The pace was pretty hard. It only got harder and the field was falling apart. Every leg of the course that was East-West required fighting for the yellow paint or shoulders edge. I was just barely in touch with the lead group of fifteen or twenty when our race was neutralized to let one of the Women's fields go by. This allowed many that were dropped early to regain connection with the peleton. For a while, anyway.

The pace remained manageable for me until the beginning of the second lap. I think it was Landon Hanson drilling at the front. The field was unraveling from the rear and I eventually lost touch as well. It was somewhere during this time frame that Landon and three others in the 40+ field got completely away.

I certainly didn't want to ride solo from this point. I chose to stick to Greg Nichols as he was powerful on the flats and gave a good draft. Others joined us and we started working together. By the time we crested the high point of the course for the second time the group had grown to about ten. This group worked together for a short while until Greg slipped off the front with a 40+ rider. I was struggling to stay in the group and purposefully let Greg go.

Our group of eight was now the third group on the road and remained largely intact to the finish. I did not put in a proper sprint. Instead I let a few wheels go by as we approached 200 meters and then hopped on and drafted to the finish line. Unbeknownst to me I accidentally finished 3rd in my category.

When we returned to the rental house we learned of my third place result. This set me up as the most well positioned Fell Swooper on GC. I was two minutes behind Greg, two seconds behind Andrew Shirey, and about two and a quarter minutes up on the next four riders.


Tour de Bloom - Saturday A.M. - Time Trial

Two years ago I completed my first and only IRL time trial. That weekend I was supporting Jude and didn't need a solid TT time. This year the tables were turned and I _did_ need to find my best legs. On the drive to the T.T. venue I peppered Jonas and Anthony with questions about T.T. pacing strategy. They were patient and replied with thoughtful answers. Going too hard seemed like a larger risk than going too easy so I chose a moderate target wattage.

A day earlier, while prepping for the Waterville road race, Patrick Waters had meandered over to chat with me about my VW Vanagon. On Saturday morning he approached me again. This time to ask me why I wasn't at the podium and didn't pick up my six pack of beer. I failed to provide a reasonable answer.

The start of the TT contains a few rollers and I was forced to pace them by feel. Once onto the false flat I settled into my target wattage without problem. And I felt good. Over the course of the TT I slowly increased my effort. By the end I was pushing an additional ten watts over where I started and still rolling strong.

My finish position was not great at 14th of 23. Fortunately we were still third on GC. I lost time compared to most of the close competition but not enough to bump me out of the top three. This poor result was well balanced by my new found optimism. My legs were feeling great. During the TT I saw power numbers that I haven't seen in a long time.


Tour de Bloom - Saturday P.M. - Criterium

Two years ago I competed in my first ever criterim at TdB. I was a bundle of nerves. I should have been more comfortable this time around but the wet course introduced a new and difficult dimension to the race.

To calm my pre-race nerves I futzed around with getting ready for the race. I attempted to place my wheels in the pits only to be turned away twice. Apparently they didn't want to accept wheels until my race was starting. On my way back to the van I ran into the Ace the promoter. I told him a sad story about a nice man in his 50's who accidentally finished third and then failed to make it to the podium. He liked my story well enough and we were able to locate my missing six pake of Pale Ale.

With three classes lined up we had about 50 riders on the line. The start would be critical. I lined up on the inside and was lucky enough to be top fifteen coming out of the first corner.

For the first few laps my line choice for the downhill corner was a constant radius. Theoretically that line could have been both fast and efficient. But that line did not mix with the line chosen by the front of the peleton. Different riders on different lines was upping the chances of putting someone on the ground. I switched my line choice pretty quick to match the peleton.

For the first half of the race I stayed in the top ten or fifteen. It appeared that Greg Nichols was simply pulling the entire field around.

My goal for this stage was to finish with the lead group and stay upright. I ignored the prime laps. By mid race the peleton had dwindled to half its original size. It felt like we were looking at a group finish. The rain started coming a little harder. I was riding on the edge and could feel my tires moving a bit here and there. So I let myself drift to the back. Tail gunning reduced the chances I had ride the downhill corner with riders to my inside.

In the final laps Jonas offered his wheel. I declined. We were riding really aggressively in the rain and it felt like a crash was inevitable.

At the start of the final lap I nailed the uphill corner. Most riders were coasting early or braking to slow down enough to make the turn on the inside. Then they had to jump out of the saddle to get up the hill.

I found a better way. On some laps the peleton left some room on the right. When they did I could pedal up the right at 200 watts, swing WAY to the outside before the turn, and then swing around the outside with speed. This also allowed me a more shallow turn radius and a less steep lean angle. On the final lap I moved a good ways up the field in that one corner.

From there I tried to protected the left side so no riders could get inside of me on the final corner. As we approached the finish I just drafted the wheel in front of me. My result of seventh wasn't remarkable but it was exactly what we needed. With time bonuses being the only real change on GC, Fell Swoop was in a good position going into day three.


Tour de Bloom - Sunday - Plain Road Race

The later start on Sunday allowed us to get more rest and have a slow paced morning. We ate breakfast. I distributed Friday's prize beer. We even had time to write mini cheat sheets for our top tubes. These included the riders we knew we needed to watch and which teams they represented.

We talked a lot about strategy for the upcoming road race. The course was mostly flat and then finished at the top of a short climb. With three classes and a few really strong riders it was difficult to guess what scenarios might play out. After a few iterations we settled on a simple strategy. We wanted the group to stay together and then we would see what my climbing legs could do. This was a conservative strategy. In contrast to a break away, there was simply not that much time that could be gained or lost on the short final climb.

The first half lap was uneventful. I stayed far enough up front to keep an eye on our competition but never tasted any wind. A few riders from the 40+ group got antsy but we ignored them. Jonas had his eyes open for any 50+ riders with ideas but no serious attacks materialized.

Jonas knew the locations on the course any action might take place. The first of these was at the 180 degree turn around at the end of the lake.

At each of these locations Jonas would work to the front. I would respond by moving into a more forward position in preparation for the acceleration. Jonas then upped the pace and strung out the peleton to discourage any attacks. At each of the numerous corners or climbs or pinch points Jonas repeated this. And it seemed to work. There were no serious attacks being attempted.

The second lap was more of the same. Two 40+ riders went off the front for a while but were ignored. Jonas continued to patrol the front. Anthony rode near me most of the time and made sure I had a good wheel to follow. I moved up occasionally when I knew Jonas was about to up the pace.

As we neared the finish the group was still together. Jonas came back, picked up Anthony and I, and started working us forward. About a mile before the final climb Jonas got serious and moved us up the right shoulder. In the final quarter mile before the climb we were near the front when Jonas was forced to evade a swerving rider. Anthony pulled through and put the hammer down. His timing was perfect. He took over the lead of the peleton, with me glued to his wheel, just as the climb started.

Up to this point it felt a lot like Fell Swoop had ridden a perfect race. It was time for me to finish it.

Thirty seconds into the climb and I settled down to my target wattage. I was hoping to hold about 110% of my FTP for the seven minute climb. To my surprise about fifteen riders came around me. In the moment I assumed that some of them were excited and pushing too hard. I continued to hit my target wattage.

But the climb was finishing too quickly. Anthony came to me from behind to help pace me. When I saw the switchback, which indicated the halfway point, I knew my pacing was off. I added another twenty watts to my target and hoped for the best. But only a few riders were coming back to me. Anthony continued to pace me to the top. I was hurting. But not enough. The 200 meter sign took me by surprise. I still had matches to burn and I covered those final thirty seconds of climbing at 475 watts.

When I stopped at the top I felt sick with myself. I had under paced the climb substantially which threatened Fell Swoop's position on GC. Anthony assured me that it would be OK. And it was. My mistake cost us some seconds to most of my rivals. But not enough seconds to change the GC standings. Fell Swoop retained third on GC. Mission accomplished.

Back at the cars a couple prize beers from Friday were cracked and consumed. The three of us shared how well we worked as a team and how well we executed the day's plan. I told Jonas and Anthony how grateful I was for their efforts. They sacrificed their own results to make sure I had the best chance of keeping Fell Swoop in GC contention.

As I write this I am reminded, again, of how honored I feel to be part of a team that knows how to work as a team. Thanks, again, to Jonas and Anthony for a great weekend of racing.

Gran Fondo Ephrata 2024 - Dwaine

My race calendar included Gran Fondo Ephrata as a 'B' event. It fell at the right point in my training calendar to be a test of my fitness level as my May 'A' events drew near.

Anthony and Thomas and I hoped for a three man Fell Swoop gravel team time trial but Thomas' recent illness sank that plan. Anthony and I planned to stick together until at least the three devils at mile 60 and then see how the chips fell.

The course profile of Gran Fondo Ephrata starts with a kick to the face. The first climb starts just a few minutes into the race and lasts about fifteen minutes. Anthony felt more eager than I and he went up the road with another forty or so riders. I knew what I could tolerate and what I couldn't. I held just over 300 watts for that first sector of the climb.

A short paved descent connects the first and second climbing sectors. A rider near me was motivated to chase on the descent and I reluctantly joined the rotation. We quickly caught Anthony and a few other riders.

The second sector of the climb is paved, lasted a bit over 20 minutes, and Anthony chose a lower effort that allowed me to hold his wheel to the top. We crested onto the rolling gravel flats within a large group. It felt like victory to me. Last year I crested with a solid group but was so spent I couldn't hold the wheels at the top.

A mile later I was surprised when Anthony let me know he would drop off this group. I let him know I had to hold these wheels and hoped he wasn't too disappointed in my choice.When we started the gravel descent it became evident there were only two riders who weren't touching their brakes. I didn't get a name but I could always identify the other descender by his yellow hydration back pack. Every technical or steep bit found yellow pack man and I rolling to or off the front.

But rolling to or off the front was not where I wanted to be. I wanted to hide in the middle. Because riding at the front on this sector wasn't very friendly.

Our group had grown to about 20 riders. Five of them were motivated to take turns pulling down the loose gravel of Baird Springs road. One of the five was pretty vocal about his wishes. I did occasionally join the five and take a few short pulls but that was not enough to prevent the ire nor verbal abuse from the most vocal of the five.

At another interesting moment I was riding third wheel. The rider in second slowed a bit and I overlapped to his left. I put my hand on his hip to let him know of my presence. When he finished his pull he barked 'Keep your hands on the bars!'. I was speechless. He barked again so I responded with a cheery 'You betcha' while looking straight ahead, taking my pull, and trying to hide my eye roll.

Fortunately the demeanor of the group improved when we reached the pavement. At least half of us were taking pulls and the train was moving along nicely. We also picked up a few stragglers.

At the mile 40 aid station our group split with about fifteen of us skipping the aid station and starting right into the false flat of Palisades road. It took a mile or two of coaxing but soon enough every rider was participating in a rotating paceline. Fifteen strong riders made for light work and we were at the base of the Three Devils before we knew it.

The Three Devils is a series of gravel climbs that come 60 miles into the 85 mile race. This is where pacelines and comaraderie often go out the window and it's every climber for themself.

A few riders expressed their exasperation about the first pitch of the Devils. I hadn't spoken much to my fellow riders up to this point and decided to break my silence with a joke. I shouted "We'll regroup at the top, right?" and received a hearty round of laughter. The laughter faded quickly as the climbing took it's toll. I dug deep and was about the fifth rider to crest.

 

 

 

By the second pitch the strongest climbers had reformed to a group of eight. Every rider, myself included, knew the importance of finishing these climbs in company. When the final climb was finished we still had a strong group of eight riders and went right back into rotation.

As we approached the final aid station at mile 64 I started the water stop strategy conversation. Except there was no conversation. Every other rider planned to skip the aid station. One rider pointed out I had an extra bottle in my back pocket. True. But I wasn't sure it was enough. Another rider said my third bottle would be plenty to get me to the finish. Maybe. A third rider said we were most of the way to the finish and the remainder of the race would be easy. Definitely Not.

At mile 67 we were back onto gravel and at mile 69 the wheels began to loosen. Three riders quietly dropped off the back. Implosion occured at mile 72.The two strongest riders rode off the front. Rachel was riding third wheel and I was fourth. I quickly shared with her that the two going up the road were too strong for me and that I would rather stick with her and Zak instead of trying to bring the two stronger riders back. We made just one more rotation before Zak took a strong downhill pull and Rachel lost connection.

Once the dust had settled I shared with Zak that he was stronger than me. I wouldn't be able to help much until we got to the pavement. He was OK with that. I did take one short pull but mostly I rode his wheel and kept my legs spinning.

During this sector we were sharing the course with the Medio riders. I recognized Mike G as we approached and yelled 'Hey Mike G' and flashed him a shaka as we rode past. Then I immediately put both hands back on the bars.

The final gravel climb is not too steep nor too long. But our legs were pretty spent by the time we arrived. To my surprise Zak said he was 'done'. I shared my prediction that he would reconnect once back to pavement. He did. For the final paved run into the finish Zak did the majority of the work. I was quick to let him know I appreciated his work and wouldn't fight him for finish position. We finished without drama in positions 32 and 33.

My finish time for the 2024 Gran Fondo was a personal best and five minutes faster than my previous PB. I was really happy with my performance. And I was truly wrecked. My legs hurt too much for a cool down ride. I was walking crooked. I left everything I had on the gravel roads in and around Ephrata Washington.

In the hours that followed I evaluated what I did well this year. In summary I think I simply avoided the big mistakes. I stayed within my own means on the first climb. I worked the hardest when it was in service of staying with other strong riders. I worked in the pacelines to show my commitment but never more than I could sustain to the finish. I came prepared with enough food and water to have freedom to choose my stops. And, when it mattered most, I kept my hands on the fucking handlebars.

 

 

 

2023-09-09: Les Becker's LOTOJA 2023 Experience

 LoToJa 2023

When I first heard about LoToJa, the ride from Logan, Utah to Jackson, Wyoming, it was intriguing, but in my mind was a non-starter due to the magnitude. It is 207 miles long with 8,800 feet of climbing, like a RAMROD and STP combined. But as I have done more riding in Utah and meeting other riders here, I have learned that it is the iconic ride of the area. It began in 1983 when two riders in Logan wanted a race that resembled the difficult European classics. One of them was the owner of Sunrise Cyclery in Logan and the starting line is still in front of that shop. I think he is still the owner. So it grew in popularity and now it is a USAC-sanctioned race for about half of the 1500 participants and the rest are Cyclosportive riders, like me, distributed into age categories. As the web site states “Cyclists must conquer three mountain passes as they pedal through scenic terrain in Utah, Idaho and Wyoming en route to a finish line below the rugged Tetons at the base of Jackson Hole Mountain Resort.”

 

Sunrise Cyclery, Logan, UT

Two years ago I began to wonder if I could possibly do this massive ride. There were many challenges to consider. Conditioning was just one. Also, they recommend personal support crews to meet their riders at the feed zones for quick hand-offs of food and drink. I didn’t have this and didn’t know if the neutral support tables would be adequate/efficient. Also, how do I return to Logan after finishing? There is no shuttle. And would this ride fit with my family’s schedule for being in Utah? After much contemplation, I pulled the trigger and began training and planning in 2022 for the event which is always the first Saturday after Labor Day. I planned on RAMROD and Rainiering to be good training rides for LoToJa, and preparation was progressing. Unfortunately, I cra***ed on RAMROD sustaining a couple stable pelvic fractures. Those healed uneventfully but the really awful neck, hip and back pains, which were largely an activation of existing arthritis took a lot of time and PT for recovery. It was two months before I could ride again and then I wasn’t sure if I would ever become flexible and pain-free enough on the bike to ride intensely. Through the winter I slowly improved and began Cyclopath riding again in early 2023. I saw a podiatrist for my Morton’s Neuroma in my right foot and got good inserts and bought wider bike shoes. My dry eye syndrome sometimes stings to degree that I have to stop my bike and apply drops. I saw an ophthalmologist, got some good advice and prescription drops. And my conditioning began to improve. So, hey, should I try LoToJa again this year? I sent in the registration fee again (prior fee non-refundable/non-forwardable…ugh) and began preparing. Then, in April, a large pick-up truck rear ended Cindy, reactivating severe low back pain that had been treated with major back surgery a few years ago. So the pain and anxiety with driving, especially unfamiliar mountain roads, prevented her from picking me up at the finish line in Jackson. So LoToJa became just a dream, not to be. But I kept riding just because it’s fun. Then our daughter, Molly, who lives in Utah, offered she and our grandson, Carter to be the driver and pick me up in Jackson. It would also give them some time looking around Jackson and seeing this stunning outdoor scenery. Hooray, back on schedule. I just felt bad that Cindy wouldn't be waiting at the finish line for me as she so wanted. In August, the 10,000 feet ride with Mike and Rainiering ride with Mike and Tom Gorczynski were key to getting me ready for the climbs in the Rockies. Conversations with riders I've met in the SLC area were helpful. And Rob Critchfield happened to be in Utah visiting family so was able to meet with me a week prior and gave me a detailed review of the ride as he had experienced riding it several times in the past. That was very helpful also.

                                                                   Me at start line.

Standing at the start line in Logan at dawn on September 9^th with hundreds of other riders gave me nervous anticipation. Waiting to be called into the chute with my ride category, I realized that any one of the many obstacles during planning and training that I dealt with could have brought this whole endeavor to an end. I felt an overwhelming peace that all these issues had worked out to get me here, especially the people close to me who helped so much. In a sense, I’d already met my goal, just to be placed here with this opportunity. My Garmin read 52 deg suggesting I should have worn long sleeve base, but I didn’t feel cold, so was wearing short base, short sleeve jersey & arm warmers with vest in pocket just in case. Our 65+ group of about 15 was released into neutral roll-out at 7:02. I anticipated a slow pace with these “old guys.” Wrong, the paceline was sometimes uncomfortably fast. Soon it evolved into a longer paceline; not sure where the others came from, but seemed loose with mini gaps so I stayed in front 10 or so just to prevent being gapped & dropped. That meant I did at least my share of pulls. Arrived at Preston, at 47 miles and rode past the feed zone as planned without stopping. A few big rollers lead to the long  2600 foot climb up through Idaho wilderness to Strawberry Pass. This was the largest climb of the ride, but the grade was typically 4-5%. This was not stressful especially since my last training rides involved a lot of 10% around Sandy, Utah. On the descent I grabbed onto a group of 4 racers (I think cat 4 racers who dropped off their group drifted back) who went really fast downhill, then into rollers. I got tired so dropped off. Was probably a mistake as I had to ride a lot of solo after that into Montpelier.

 

This was my first food stop and where I had a drop bag sent. I emptied my pockets and drop bag into a pile and put all the Nature’s Bakery bars into the drop bag to be sent to the finish since I was finding them hard to swallow with a dry mouth with the temps now in upper 70’s. I put all the Quaker 100cal bars and gel packs, ones I brought and ones from the food table, into my pockets. Another good decision. Traffic control was superb and somewhere past Montpelier after approximately 80 miles was the first time I had to pause for a stop sign or signal light. Soon I was riding up Geneva Summit, a 1,000 ft climb. Next was the last and toughest climb, 1400 ft up Salt River Pass, elevation 7630 ft which had plenty of 8% grade in unshielded  80 deg sun. I passed a number of struggling riders here. When I heard heavy breathing and saw a vacant agonized, look on their face I would ask if they were OK. This reminded me of Cayuse Pass. It then dropped down to the town of Afton and a feed zone. I don’t recall stopping there, but I must have picked up some more gel packs. What followed was my least favorite section of LoToJa. The 34 miles to Alpine followed US 89 through Star Valley, rural nondescript agricultural land with many trucks and farm related businesses along the very straight busy highway, with jarring rumble strips in places. I rode a guy’s wheel for about half of this and solo’d into cross winds the rest of it.

 

A few general notes. Starting temp was 52 deg but didn’t feel real cold so I bravely wore just short sleeve base with short sleeve Cyclopath Jersey, vest and arm warmers. This was a good choice and I ditched the arm warmers & vest in the drop bag in Montpelier. Subsequently almost over-heated in 80 deg on Salt River Pass but crested the top just before got in trouble. Regarding food, I mentioned dry mouth and settling on just Quaker bars and gels. I resupplied a few times with Hammer gel packs from feed zones.. Hydration included a couple bottles of Skratch from small packets I carried but was mostly Hammer Heed from feed zones and I didn’t cramp. I did see many of the racers and two or three times I fell into a group, usually drafting from the back so not to interfere. I’m not sure where they came from as I thought they were all released prior to me, but probably some cat 5’s had drifted back.

 

Just prior to rolling into Alpine, Molly texted me saying she was driving back to Alpine from Jackson. At the time I couldn’t respond without losing a wheel. Did she think I was done in and needed a ride? Forty-seven miles separated me from the finish line, but I felt quite up to it and when I got to Alpine called Molly with my intentions. After grabbing some hydration and gel packs from the neutral feed, I headed out of town and soon saw Molly & Carter waving at me from a roadside parking area. It was quite reassuring as they cheered me on. From here the terrain changed dramatically into pure majestic wilderness. The Snake River was in a deep gorge below and tall forested or rocky peaks on both sides gave shady relief. The two-lane winding highway had new, smooth pavement with ample shoulders, although the traffic was sparse. From here on, the grade was gentle uphill with some level. Most of this I rode solo and the bike rolled at a good clip without too much effort. Molly & Carter pulled over at a couple viewpoints overlooking the river and cheered me again as I rode by. I was so thankful for their support. This was the most enjoyable, rewarding part of the ride for me. Then about 8 miles from the finish, a volunteer support person was handing out bottles of Coke on the fly and of course I grabbed one. But that was a mistake since I really couldn’t drink Coke while riding and half of it ended up as a sticky mess on my cockpit. A brief view of the Tetons presented itself on the final stretch toward Teton Village, the finish line. By then I was in a group of equally satisfied riders with lots of spirited chatting. Crossing under the finish arch, I almost wished it wasn’t over. Total ride time 12 hr, 44 min which was 4^th out of the cumulative 21 riders in groups of 55+ yrs and up. Goal accomplished.

Reflections after a ride like this always involve analysis of whether and where I went too fast or too slow. I never felt totally spent like happens on RAMROD, so perhaps could have gone faster. Bottom line, though, is I really enjoyed this very well organized ride and finished before dark, so was a success.

 

Safe riding,

Les

Volunteer Park Criterium Race Recap - By Dwaine

Getting to the venue was my first challenge of the day. I had never been to Volunteer Park and parked way to far away. I was feeling rushed when I finally arrived at our Fell Swoop team tent. There was just enough time to talk race strategy and take a short warm up ride with Jonas who knew his way around the neighborhood. 

The course is not your typical four corner crit. Except for the finish straight, the course is always winding and includes a long and shallow descent followed by a long and shallow climb. Z-Dog informed me my bike handling skills would pay dividends.

Our field, Men's 35+ cat 3/4, was only about 25 deep. Teammates shared with me that this would make moving up the field easier than if we were in a 40 rider field. Our start was mellow enough but my first lap was, at times, harrowing. The racing line was starting to dry but, on my first lap, I found myself in the wrong place at the wrong time on at least two occasions. Disaster was avoided and on subsequent laps my line choices proved immensely safer.

Fell Swoop showed up with five riders total. We were all in on working for our designated leader, Z-Dog. Our job was to help him facilitate his best possible finish. Sticking to our race plan I followed a couple moves during the race. But nothing threatening ever came together. It was especially nice seeing other Fell Swoopers ready to patrol the front after I made these efforts and needed a few minutes catching my breath.

At about nine laps to go I finished a short effort to close a gap and realized my heart rate was higher than I hoped. For the next six laps I shrunk myself as best I could and hid within the wheels.

My job, for the finish, was to assemble three Swoopers on my wheel and then take them to the the front.  At the end of the 'three to go' lap I found Z-Dog. I then yelled up to Juaquin, who was ahead of me, to slow down. At that moment the fifteen riders in front of me seemed to sit up and I was able to move Z-dog and myself forward within the peleton.

As we started the flat finish straight I could see the gap I needed to lead us through. It was tight and I may have bumped another rider. He certainly wasn't happy about my proximity and I felt a big shove forward. I yelled 'thanks' and put down a steady effort that took me forward. I yelled at Juaquin to assemble behind me as I took over the front.

In the moment I was quite pleased with putting myself and my team mates exactly where we planned to be. This same lap was also a $20 Taco Time gift card prime lap and I accidently won that too.

For the next three quarters of a lap I lead the race and put in just enough effort to keep the field strung out. I checked over my should down the hill and could see Juaquin's Fell Swoop jersey on my wheel. I just hoped there were two more Swoopers on his wheel. At the base of the climb I put down some real power, burnt all the matches, and flicked my elbow before reaching the flat. The peleton stormed by and I smiled knowing my domestique duties were well fulfilled.

The results will show me DFL. The results will not show how much fun this race was. Nor will it show how well we raced as a team. Not a single rider got off the front without a Fell Swooper in tow. An admittedly partial spectator, Z-Dog's girlfriend KT, complimented our team tactics.

And how did our team do on that last lap? In the moment I was so far back I couldn't even see the finish. I had to wait to hear the stories from the other Swoopers to learn how the final lap turned out. Juaquin put in a big effort on that final lap but it was no good. Jonas and Z-Dog had gotten separated from Juaquin at some point and Z-Dog was only able to sprint to about tenth place.

In summary, except for the final lap, it was a near perfect day of racing with my Fell Swoop teammates.

2023-05-21 Gran Fondo Leavenworth (Dwaine's Account)

Author:  Dwaine Trummert

Gran Fondo Leavenworth 2023

Leavenworth was my 'A' race for this Spring. My training was tailored for this event, and I had a strong desire 

to right the wrong that I created last year at this race. My racing team "Fell Swoop" was well represented with

five riders of varying abilities.

The weather was warm, and I started in my summer kit. A third water bottle containing three scoops of Tailwind 

drink powder - but no water - was tucked into my back pocket. The neutral roll out seemed slower than usual this 

year, and I planned to stick next to team mates Thomas and Josh. That plan ended when I needed to stop and 

dismount after my chain dropped on the first shift of the day. I spent the next four miles inching my way forward 

in the slowly crawling peleton.

As we approached Eagle Creek road, I advised Josh on how the race promoter Jake would honk the horn on 

his big BMW motorcycle to release us. I was rewarded for my helpful advice. The right shoulder opened up 

before me, and I glided up to the front row just as we were let loose. I waited for two riders to take charge and 

then I latched on. This excellent position allowed me to sag climb the first few rolling hills.

The pace started hotter than previous years. I was spending too much time over threshold and dropped myself before the road turned to gravel. After the race Thomas informed me why the pace started so high. Pro cyclist Cole Paton was setting pace on the front. He eventually broke free, rode solo, and finished first by 24 minutes. Letting that go was the right choice for me!

Anthony gave me a wheel to ride until the road turned to dirt and then he wished me good luck. Like Anthony, I set my own pace on the climb and it was taken without drama. On the first half of the climb, I lost a few positions. On the second half, I made up some positions.

 

The steep part of the descent also unfolded without drama. My forearms felt like I found every stutter bump in the road, but the rubber side stayed down. A new rattle, coming from the back end of my Hakka MX, made itself known. I chose not to stop but did give the rear thru axle a look to make sure it wasn't backing out. Once the road flattened a bit I started putting down some power. Moving up the field on the dirt would allow me to lock into a faster group on the pavement.

I took the right turn onto the paved Mad River road at full tilt. While the riders around me sat up to look around, I got into the drops. I saw two strong looking riders up the road and put in some work to bridge up to them. I made the catch, and the three of us quickly dropped into rotation. This group grew to about ten by the time we reached the Entiat aid station.

I'm never the strongest pedaler in a bicycle race. So I have to be crafty and make FAST pit stops. At the Entiat aid station, I needed to fill the two bottles on my bike and the third in my back pocket. As we approached, I moved to the front of our group and rode straight to the water jugs. While nine other riders waited in the water line, I was already soft pedalling toward Swakane Canyon.

Entiat to Swakane Canyon is ideal for working together in a paceline. I rode slowly letting riders catch me until we had three. My team mate Josh was one of the riders to join me. He took the first pull, and it was long. Thanks man!

What hasn't been written about the Swakane Canyon climb? It is THE defining feature of Gran Fondo Leavenworth. It is hot and dusty and rocky at the bottom. The climbs pitch up and then down. No rhythm can be found. I let the riders around me go up the road. As with most years, I walked the steepest pitch and do not regret that decision. My long hours of training this Winter and Spring started to pay near the top. I was able to maintain my modest power output despite the fatigue. Riders were finally coming back to me.

The final mile of the climb is prime time for cramping. Somehow, I crested just as my cramps arrived. Each time I used my legs to absorb the bumps on the descent, I could feel the cramp twinges coming on - but this I could manage. My descending speed was impacted at first but at least I was still moving. By this point the rattle on my bike was near constant, but everything was working so I raced on.

 

When the descent turned from winding to straight, it was time to find a dance partner. Richard Beukema passed me, and he looked like a good wheel to follow. Once on the pavement, Richard started working. I took a few turns on the front but was clearly not at his level. Our group eventually grew to four. By the time we passed the Old Mill Tavern before the final right turn under the railroad tracks, we had agreed not to sprint to the finish line. We took our positions based on who did the most work. Richard was in front. I assumed third wheel in the group and was scored 23rd.

After I crossed the line, I waited for Josh to finish. I was pleased to be ahead of Josh, but that was enabled only by the MTB race he completed the previous day. I also took a moment to find my rattle. My cassette was coming loose!

Over the next 24 hours, I looked back at my day. On one hand, I was pleased with my performance. I had certain tools available. My bike, my knowledge of the course, and my fitness. On race day, I think I put those tools to work as well as was possible. On the other hand, I wasn't that pleased with my performance. I took a pretty big swing at increasing my training this year without measurable improvement. This year's finish time ranked third of the four times I've completed this course.

Overall, Gran Fondo Leavenworth was a spectacular day. Fell Swoopers rode strong and placed well. We had great weather, great organization by Jake and his team, and a course that never fails to challenge. I'd like to write more, but I need to get to the garage and tighten up some drivetrain parts...

2023 Cascadia Super Gravel - by Dwaine

Last Saturday with Tom and my Fell Swoop teammate Josh and I raced the 100 mile Cascadia Super Gravel. We started at 7 a.m. under clear skies and not too chilly temperatures. Josh was racing with his friend Jason and they wanted to start a little faster than I did. I let them go early and hoped to eventually work my way back up to them. Tom and I were about the same speed and stayed within a minute of each other for the first hour.

Josh and Dwaine _before_ the long suffer.

My plan to eventually reel in Josh was foiled at mile fifteen when my rear tire went soft after I nicked the sidewall. I stopped to add air a couple times hoping the sealant might eventually clog the hole but on my third stop I knew I needed to invest the time to install a tube.

Once back underway I figured my race was over. I had lost over twenty minutes with the multiple stops. I resigned myself to the fact I was on a really long training ride. To motiviate myself I started counting how many riders I could catch and pass.

At mile 29 I crested the highest climb of the day and was still feeling great. I was concerned that the steep final pitches of this climb might push me into the red but my legs were taking the effort in stride.

There was a navigational problem at mile 37. My Garmin instructed me to make a hard right onto a climb. But there were 'wrong way' signs on this climb. A few other riders were also confused at these signs. After a quick survey of the situation I announced I was going to trust my Garmin and I started up the climb. I quickly came to course markers showing I was on course. As I climbed I thought through the situation and came to the conclusion that some prankster had rearranged the signs just to create mayhem.

The next ten miles were lonely. From mile 15 to 37 I had caught 15 riders. From mile 37 to 50 I caught zero.

But daydreaming while riding was not wise. The promoter of this event had created a route using many of the less frequently ridden roads. I learned it was best to keep a very close eye on the Garmin map for unexpected turns.

I finally caught sight of another rider as we approached the long hike-a-bike section at mile 50. I was surprised at the length of the hike-a-bike. Strava reports I was at walking speed for about 14 minutes. The hike-a-bike was good for my catch score. I passed two at the beginning, one of which was Tom, and three more as we emerged from the woods onto the A-line climb.

As I approached the aid station at mile 67 I was really pleased that my legs were still putting out decent power. My stomach wasn't so happy with how many carbs I was shoving down my throat. My catch count had climbed into the low twenties. And it was getting warm.

Miles 67 to 75 were lovely. It was generally downhill. I couldn't add to my catch count as the course was shared with riders racing the 50 mile event. But I could at least say 'Hi' every once in a while.

At mile 75 the 100 mile course turned West onto the paved D-line road and I was riding solo again. My stomach was really starting to grumble. I kept stuffing the food in anyway.

The fatigue finally caught up with me at mile 85. After almost eight hours I started to loose steam. I chose to walk a couple of the steepest pitches. I cut my final food ration by half hoping to make a truce with my angry gut.

I wasn't the only rider suffering in these final miles. I managed to put three more riders behind me between mile 85 and 95 bringing my total to 26.

At mile 95 we were back on a short stretch of pavement that lead to one more gravel climb and the single track finish. I had only a thirty second gap on my previous catch which provided the motivation to keep pushing all the way to the finish line. I crossed that line after 8 hours 57 minutes. I was pleased as punch with this time.

After finding fresh clothes I sat down and chatted with Josh and Jason. I hadn't seen them since the start but it sounded like they had a great race. Josh even admitted to accepting some of the Bacon that was being cooked at the mile 67 aid station. They finished four seconds apart in 8 hours 42 minutes. Josh was scored eleventh and Jason twelfth. I was not scored at all but my time would have put me in thirteenth.

I waited for quite a while for Tom to finish only to find out he took a nasty fall and then a trip to the hospital. So while I had a good day on the bike, as a whole, the Cyclopaths did not.