Training and Other Character Flaws

There’s a snow pack rising, and I’ve got evil on my mind

It’s here. Training that is. So far three weeks of sticking to the preset training schedule, increasing mileage by 9% per week. With the ride today that makes 132 miles this week. The ride today…winds of 25 miles per hour. Someone once stated that ‘the wind is my friend’, when training. That person was demented. The thought is that the extra effort riding against the wind helps. Sure.

I take it personally though! In my heart I know that there is a Training God, and he is of the Old Testament because he rides a Brooks saddle (thus in agony, but denies it in favor of fashionability), not merciful, and takes liberties to torment the poor bike rider. Hills must end, races have a distance limit, and winds do not. OK, stop whining.

The aero bars help a lot, and to be fair the experience of toughing it out is a plus. Gosh I hate to be rational – more satisfying to whine! Anymore, the wind is an annoyance, but helps to gain that ‘adverse conditioning’ so necessary for racing the Tour Divide.

Three more months to go. By that time I should be at a 300 mile per week level, holding it for three weeks, then tapering the last ten days. There is no ‘peak’ level I am striving for. Peaking before the TD is physical suicide – you will peak on the ride. There is no way you can hold your peak conditioning for two or three weeks! If you have, in fact, peaked before the race, then each day after about a week or so will put you in the hole. That’s my scientific buttwing guess.

No, I don’t do any specific interval training, although parts of my ride resemble intervals, such as brief steep hill all out climbs. My spin classes substitute for interval training, not that I need a lot of intervals. They do help though. Oh, and for now I train almost exclusively on pavement.

My typical routes (overall) average about fifty to seventy-five feet of climbing per mile of distance. Except the average consists of valley flats with rolling hills, and extended climbs in the Sierra foothills. My problem, if you can call it that, is that I have one speed, and that is what I call ‘training pace’. The pace is relatively fast (for me!), and more than sixty plus percent of time is spent in heart rate zones 3, 4, and 5. I know that I should slow down for some rides, and I’ve been trying. The funny thing is that keeping my heart rate in zone 2 or low 3 results in a per mile time increase of only 7 to 10 percent of normal training. Think I would learn? Later maybe.

I do have recovery rides scheduled and every third or fourth week is a recovery week (recovery weeks are 60% of previous week mileage). Last race training year (2015) I forced myself to slow down periodically, and will again this year. Ditto weight training. The past few months I’ve increased the weights by 50 to 100% depending on specific exercise. Yep, noticed a significant increase in strength, along with more fatigue, while teetering right on the edge of injury. Now that I’m ramping up the miles, I’ll back off the mass slowly, coming back down to the normal weights.

Brain freeze - Snow is on my mind. The snowpack in Montana and Wyoming is higher than average. In Wyoming it is 200% of average for parts of the TD route. In years past parts of the race have been rerouted to avoid snowed in mountain passes.  I really want to race the entire route, and a delay of a year is not in the cards. I’ve worked too hard this last year pre-training, and besides, next year might be worse. Another adversity to overcome. Heck, who knows? Perhaps this year will be a warm spring and snow will magically go away the week before the start. Race regardless, race with honor.

My hands are getting better, having a long history of numbness during rides. Part of that is changing my handlebars to a 41 degree back sweep model and a 30 degree stem. That puts me more upright, (maybe too much) taking weight off my hands. Still fiddling with the angles and dangles, grips and such, but looks promising.  Another help is that I’ve been doing planks as part of my training, and my core is stronger.

A recent discovery is that my right hand ulnar numbness (last two fingers only) is in part a problem of where the nerve crosses the inner elbow (it gets irritated). Look up ‘Ulnar Flossing’ on YouTube – thanks to Matt Lee for that tip. It’s a method of stretching the ulnar nerve, helping to relieve numbness. My fingers still fall asleep at night when I am on my right side though. Take care when you ride to avoid hand issues – mine stem from the 2013 TD ride injuries, exacerbated greatly by the 2015 race, and riding since then hasn’t made things better. You have been warned.

Speaking of my butt, my long standing issue of uncomfortable saddles has eased a bit. Still, I prefer to describe my present saddle as my ‘least painful’, rather than most comfortable. (I give names to my saddles, such as ‘Vlad the Impaler’, ‘Cheek grater’, ‘Chainsaw’, ‘Scrotumizer’ and the like). A large part of the improvement is just putting in mile after mile. I’ve been changing saddles recently to ‘train’ my hiney (I’ve got fifteen or twenty saddles to choose from). Confounding the issue is that the more upright position changes the butt-ometry, so to speak, thus the discomfort level of certain saddles.

All things are interconnected.

Motive-Vation: Why I Ride

Is a cougar best measured in grams or ounces?

So let’s assume for argument’s sake that I ride for a reason, or reasons. What are they? Often I’m in a slump and have ‘reasons’ not to ride, but then remind myself that each ride is different. I chant, “Don’t judge the ride before it is over”.  Lately the weather here has been…well, apocalyptic, and I’ve been chanting a lot. We’ve had in close succession heavy snowfall, very heavy rains, regional flooding, more snow, more rain, flash flooding, more snow, and freezing temps. Our town gets 300+ days of sunshine a year. Normally. Not this year though, and getting my 100 miles a week in on my bike outdoors has been impossible the past two weeks. 

I’m constantly reminding myself that my TD training has not started yet, so don’t worry about the mileage. Sure. Another chant on my rides, when I notice that I’m up to training pace is, “I’m not training yet!”.  I talk to myself a lot during the rides. Sometimes I get a third opinion that sneaks in from somewhere. Hah. A month until I start the real TD training.

So I changed gears a bit (oops, pun). Flooding? Well heck, I’ve got TD-grade rain gear, no? So out I went in torrential rains and howling winds to view our neighborhood and the flooding near our home (we’re 50’ above flood stage, not so lucky for all of our neighbors). The small stream near our house was a raging river. Holy torrent, Bikeman! One of the two access roads into our area was under water.

I rode over the one remaining (and shaking!) bridge that was open and down to the major thoroughfare across the river that runs through the city, where it was barricaded off, and I stopped to speak with the officer guarding the intersection. I figured that it even though the sign said, “Road Closed”, the bikepath next to the road didn’t have a sign. Not surprisingly he asked what I was doing out in the storm. I answered, “Science experiment, gear testing”. After a bit I asked if I could ride down to the bridge across the river. He thought a moment and then said that I could, but the County workers there might yell at me. Perhaps he thought that bikers were expendable?

At the river I was stunned by the amount and speed of the water which barely cleared the underside of the bridge. Add to that the whole trees and other debris being carried away by the flood. Yep, the County workers, there to assess the damage and guard the bridge, had the sandbag trucks parked on the bridge (!!), and they were watching the flood. When they noticed me I yelled, “The cop said it was OK to ride down here!”. Heh heh.

I’m beginning to dislike spin classes at the gym and trainer sessions in my garage. About a dozen hour long sessions in the past two weeks. Plus weightlifting  at the gym. And I snuck in a few rides outside, ice permitting. Oh, and getting bundled up from head to toe is getting old. My balaclava facemask actually feels like a second skin now.

A while back I was riding near the small stream noted above. Suddenly a coyote darted out of a ravine twenty feet in front of me. He and I came to a quick stop. Not that I was worried about him, just didn’t want to collide with any critter having teeth. I had seen him before sneaking around in the field nearby, but from a couple hundred yards distance. He watched me, cocking one eye up, and I watched him, cocking one eye up. We stood there, cockeyed, for thirty seconds, at which time he trotted off casually. A beautiful animal; a fluffy winter coat with orange-brown color highlights. 

For those not familiar with coyotes, they have the body mass of a wet poodle, but their fur coats make them look much larger. They don’t bother humans, unless it is to snack on their small dogs and cats. The day before the flood I saw his cousin, on my paved street, at one in the morning. We have rabbits in the area. We don’t have outdoor cats. I like cats. And cougars. One was found hiding under a house right next to a sign on my training route that said “End Bike Path”. Perhaps it should have added, “…and Start Cougar Trail”. We’ve had bears come down from the mountains in search of snacks, and I’ve seen bear scat a couple times.

Aforesaid stream flows along 12 miles of my route. At one point it crosses an earthen dam (only a few feet high, and the water flows across the roadway) that forms a large pond. Egret, ducks, geese and storks frequent the waters and surrounding swamp, and wild horses come here to water and mooch from misguided people that feed them. In the hills above the pond, a wild horse actually came up to me and ate the map I was holding!

On one cold day I noticed a bike parked on the dam, and the rider was wading in the pond with a fly rod in his hands. Since there was a thin layer of ice on the pond, both the fly rod and someone wading in freezing water rattled my brain. I stopped and waited until he came back to his bike and spoke with him. Seems that he was from an eastern European country, here to work temporarily. We talked about fly fishing, and what species of fish were in the pond (I had seen large carp spawning there in the spring), and a bit about his wonderment that this lovely pond saw no fishing pressure. Uh, hello, it’s like frozen! I rode away with a new appreciation of the pond, and felt good about having stopped and talked to a fellow biker/fisherman, even if he was a bit optimistic about fishing through the ice.

Yesterday I managed to get a forty miler in, riding in a steady drizzle with high winds, dodging ice and snow banks. During the ride I passed two farms that had Llamas munching hay, one that had Alpacas, and another where the peacocks strolled unconcerned. A ways farther the Texas longhorn cattle were resting in a field where another coyote is often seen looking lustily at the geese feeding on small grass shoots. Speaking of geese, we have a huge gaggle in town. They have babies in the spring, and the cute tiny fuzzballs are a joy to watch. Last year I counted forty-two fuzzies being herded by three nesting pairs of geese.

Each ride is logged into my paper journal, and in my electronic one, plus analyzed and charted in my master ‘too-much-data’ spreadsheet. I’m constantly testing gear, weighing it and making notes of its performance.

Why do I ride? Perhaps it’s because I’m noticing that not all is time, speed, distance, weight, and frequency.  Now, how to log all those storms, floods, coyotes, geese, horses, ducks, fish, cattle, storks, and other animals into my tracking spreadsheet? I may need more columns. But then again, I would have to weigh a cougar. Hmmm…

Equipment: Lite, Ultralite, and Ultra-Stupid-Lite

                             If I let all the air out of my tires, I can save 12 grams!

Back in the day, which is to say back before evidence was all over the internet, thus I can claim anything without fear of being called out, I had a job as a climbing guide assistant, and in the off hours a dishwasher at the mountain lodge, or it might have been the other way around. Sexy sounding I know, and the most 'fun', besides teaching clients self arrest on the snow (sometimes they kept sliding!), was carrying garbage down from the high camp. For safety, we worked in teams of two, the logic was that both of us could get lost together. We made the chore even more fun by competing to see who could carry the most garbage 4,000’ elevation feet down the glacier in our frame packs. I seem to remember carrying 165 pounds once.

Newton’s Gravitation Equation: Fgrav = (G*M1*M2)/2 

Flash forward to my first run at the TD race several years ago. My kit was somewhere north of 30 pounds without water and food. My tent alone weighed 3 pounds 11 ounces. In Eureka Montana I mailed home over eight pounds of crap, and was still overweight in ‘equipcrap’.

Second try at the TD, my kit weighed 25+ pounds including everything that I wore, helmet, shoes and all. And still I mailed a bunch home en route. My entire sleep system then, new tent, new bag, and new pad, weighed a half pound more than just the tent I carried the first time.

It’s said that the best way to lose a pound of weight is to lose an ounce for each item, sixteen items at a time. Yes I obsess over gear weight. I’ve got a database of 228 items complete with descriptions, pounds, ounces, grams and such. Did I mention that an essential piece of kit is an accurate postal scale? Hi, I am a TD racer and I’m an Obsessaholic.

My next year list includes 19 pounds of gear. This includes bike bags and all I am wearing. What, may you ask, did I cut out of the prior list? Not so simple, as there’s cutting, and there’s spending money for new, lighter gear. Given a big enough bankroll, I could cut another several pounds out of the carry items, and several more off the bike. The big question is, how light do I want to spend? New for this year is a titanium bike, two chain rings instead of three, lightweight yet sturdy rear hub, lighter weight aero bars, but an added porky dynamo hub. So the entire bike weight comes in a pound+ less than the previous aluminum bike (with no dyno hub). Oh, and I don’t have to carry so many batteries.

One of the best ways to reduce weight is to take a critical look at yourself in the mirror, naked. Jump up and down; that which jiggles when it shouldn’t is excess weight. In my case I’m committed to lose an additional (personal) 20 pounds from last trip (before the first trip I lost 50 pounds, yep the big five-O). Combined with the reduction in kit weight, I’ll be carrying 26 pounds or so less ‘stuff’. Hey, compared to last time that’s essentially riding without a load!

Danger! Math ahead!!! Losing 10% of total bike/rider weight, I should be able to go about 10% faster up the hills, 0.8% faster on the level, and about 3% slower on the downhills (because gravity sucks, and it sucks stronger on more massive stuff). Take a look at the time savings on the uphills! Uphill riding is slow, thus I spend a lot more time riding hills (about 63% of total ride time) than on flats (25%) or downhill (12.5% of total time). So saving 10% on uphills translates to about 10% * 63% = 6.3% total riding time savings. Add 0.8% of 25% (time spent on flats): 0.8% * 25% = 2%, Subtract for downhills: 3% * 12.5% = 0.4%. Total them up: 6.3% + 2% - 0.4% = 7.9% overall time savings. For a 25 day ride that cuts almost two days total trip time! This should tell you where to focus your training…can you say “Hills” ?

Baggins

I can’t give you advice about bike bag brands, as I make all of my own. Sewing them is therapy, and all new bags are in the works. My new frame triangle is, er, small. How small? I calculated that I have room for a bag half the volume that of the former frame bag. Add a handlebar bag (sleep system), seatbag (clothes, etc.), a big 2 liter gas tank bag (electronics/snacks), a downtube tool/tube bag, a downtube mount for a water bottle, and two handlebar feedbags. In one of the feedbags I store my one liter water bottle with an attached pouch to hold bear spray, and in the other either another bottle/water-bag or food and junk, plus an external pouch for my water filter.

I’m taking a Sea to Summit ultralight backpack (2.6 ounces) that folds up smaller than a sour lemon, and normally will remain stowed. Food will hang in it, and if I have to carry extra food or water for a short time it’s handy. About backpacks: Don’t take a backpack for daily load carrying, just don’t! Your arse will thank you. An important point here is the ‘backpack vacuum principle’ – bags tend to suck in extra crap to fill the volume.  I know that Europeans tend to use backpacks quite a bit. Not sure why. I’ve carried a backpack and will never go back. Total bikepacking bag system weight: max 2 pounds.

The Emperors’ New Clothes

 Basic rule of thumb, take one item of each type of clothing (except socks – you may take two pair). Yes you have to live in one pair of riding shorts the entire trip, and no, the one jersey will do nicely. For my body, I’m taking riding shorts, shoes, helmet, jersey, arm sun sleeves, lightweight leg warmers, a hat, wool long sleeve baselayer, and my synthetic puffy 13 ounce jacket. Raingear includes a 7.8 ounce jacket and 7.7 ounce pants. Add two pairs of wool socks, and both riding and rain gloves and that’s about it. As an example of weight saving one item at a time, my bomb proof Gore Tex rain coat last trip weighed 15.4 ounces. My new one is half that. The entire clothing ensemble, complete with shoes and helmet, weighs 6.9 pounds.

Speaking of clothing, especially rain gear: You will get and remain wet for long periods.

Read that again. Your whiz-bang BlowerBreath fancy raincoat fabric will not breathe in the rain. And it will rain young Jedi, oh yesss, plus you’re gonna sweat buckets. Pit zips or vents are a must. The prime rule is ‘Wet and warm’! If there is any category where you can ‘cheat’, and take extra, it is clothing. Be sure that you can keep at least your core warm. Hypothermia is a big danger.

The general idea is to shed rain and keep warm by layering. So from outside in, the max layers (for me) would be rain gear, outer warm jacket, jersey, then a baselayer (long sleeve wool top plus arm and leg warmers). Probably not going to wear all of them at once very often. I’ve used both wool and synthetic baselayer tops on my trips. Get merino wool – stays warmer than synthetics when wet. Oh, and you don’t stink…too badly.

And while we are on the subject of down for insulation…If you take it make sure that the down is treated with some kind of water repellent at the factory. Not just the fabric, the actual down. No question that down is uber warm. Also no question that down, when wet, is basically useless. I’ve got a down bag, kinda heavy at 21 ounces, and it contains treated down. On the last trip I had some minor issues with dampness. Lesson – take extra steps to keep down dry, like keeping your bag in its’ own waterproof outer bag.

Sleep no more! Macbeth doth murder sleep!

Perhaps the most important thing you can do to ensure domestic tranquility is to take a sleep system that lets you get comfortable rest. In an emergency the shelter may make a difference between being miserable and miserably dead. Cerebro-chemical info: When you torture your body with long hours in the saddle, your body produces chemicals that interfere with sleep. Two of the hormones that appear to play a significant role in post-workout sleep disturbances are norepinephrine and cortisol. My first trip I slept like the dead, but was at a touring pace (60+ miles/day). Last year at race pace I didn’t sleep much. My mind was buzzing and some nights I did not sleep at all. Part of the problem was a slow leak in my pad. The other, I’m sure, was the chemical imbalance. Next year I’m coming armed with Ambien, just in case. Oh, and a better pad! Sleep issues contributed to poor performance and bad judgment, and I’m avoiding that road again.

Water water everywhere.  

I’m taking enough water storage to carry 6+ liters, consisting of one liter water bottle, and Platypus and Nalgene water bags. The Nalgene bag will be used at night as my pee bottle. A good rinse, put a tablet in it, and fresh as a daisy!  I used a Sawyer mini water filter last time and will take it again. The filter has a one liter squeeze bag that normally is ‘dirty’, that is, it holds dirty water to be squeezed thru the filter. I’ve used the bag before to hold clean water – simply fill with dirty water and drop a tablet in. Tip: Don’t let the filter freeze as it will split internally! Plenty of water in Canada and Montana, thru to Pinedale Wyoming; a water source will pop up every several miles. Rookie mistake #253 is carrying too much water. After that the Great Basin is a bit dry, getting wetter in Colorado. New Mexico is dry much of the route. Sure you can buy water at stores. Want more water storage along the route? Buy half gallon sodas. Nice bottles.

Be double damn sure that whatever method you use to treat water gets rid of both Giardia and Cryptosporidium. Iodine doesn’t. Chlorine doesn’t. Many water treatment tablets don’t. I carry Katadyn tablets as a treatment backup because it kills everything. Don’t be confused by tablets that release chlorine dioxide – that chemical then forms a strong oxidizer. It is not the chlorine that kills stuff. Rookie mistake #127, drinking from streams - clear water is not clean water! Weight of water system: 0.7 pounds.

Buddy, can you spare a spare?

 Repair parts include two lightweight tubes and patch kits (I run tubeless normally), a tire boot, 2 ounces of Stan’s sealant (tip: put some Stan’s in tubes when you use them), a derailleur hanger, a few miscellaneous bolts, tire lever, allen keys and Torx driver, chain tool and extra links, tire pump, chain lube, small multi-tool with knife and pliers, a CO2 inflator head (in case I buy cartridges en route), brake pads, a few zip ties, tape (wound around pump), and a couple spokes with nipples, 30 feet of cord (to hang food, rope cattle), and a cable bike lock. Total weight: 1.74 pounds.

Some tubeless riders carry one spare tube, some no spare (I call the latter ‘clueless riders’). Last time I put a tube in on the Rail Trail (not a flat – my fault letting too much air out for traction). Later, zipping along in the exact middle of Great-Basin-nowhere on the hottest day of the race, Bam! Two pinch flats, and another mystery leak. While patching five holes (three different patch jobs as I didn’t realize I had two sets of pinch flats), I reflected on what would happen if I didn’t have another spare tube, and this one was unrepairable; a long thirsty walk. So I take two spares. However, my new lightweight ones together weigh 6 ounces less than the previous pair of ‘normal’ weight tubes. Tip: a 26” tube will work as spare for 29” wheels. Just inflate it before the race and let it sit overnight to stretch. Weight – darn close to the lightweight 29er tubes.

Speaking of carrying tubes – wrap one around the front hub, secured with Velcro or a strap. The wheel carries the weight, not your bags. I’ve used that method for over 20 years.

The Official TD Race Cooking Setup

None. Nyet, Nein, Nicht, Nada, Nope, don’t even. Not even a cup.

Errata

Then there is the electronic stuff. Particulars are still somewhat in flux (pun intended): Last two times I used a Garmin GPS plus a simple wired computer as backup. I’ve been running this year with a lightweight O_Synce Navi2Coach bike computer that has GPS route uploading capability. At 2.6 ounces versus 6.6 for the Garmin, I can carry two with one as a backup (yes I’ve got two). Then again the Garmin will let me know of upcoming turns, campsites, food, etc. (I program waypoints with visible labels and proximity alerts). The dyno hub allows me to recharge the Navi lithium batteries on the fly, but I also have a lithium powerbank should I use the Garmin. I’ve got a power cable for the Garmin that allows me to both power and use it at the same time. Special sauce cable I made – normal USB cables won’t work.

My cunning plan is to run more at night, so I’m taking my trusty Fenix BT10 headlight. I may carry rechargeable batteries for it, or run it directly off the dyno, or both. Yep, cell phone with another GPS backup route application, plus charger (works with the Navi2Coach computer as well). I’ve cobbled together a wiring system that charges lithium, USB, and runs the Fenix directly off the dyno. SPOT tracker is in there somewhere of course. All that and a few pieces more come in at 2 pounds. Sheesh, I gotta review that list.

End of list

Add a first aid/medical kit, sunscreen, a few maps, butt cream, bear spray (13 oz.), money, passport, wallet, whistle, ‘personal paper’ and I come up with 1.9 pounds more.

As compared to the racing ‘Gods’, my kit is butt heavy. The faster you ride, the less you need to carry, plus those speedsters endure less sleep and generally take survival level equipment. When you ride close to 200 miles a day, several food and water stops are a bet, and hotels are encountered more often, so who needs gear?

Stuff it !

I laid out all my stuff and packed it into the toolbag, gas tank bag, feedbags, seatpack, and handlebar bag. Holy craparel – it all fit! All this contained without a framebag – WooHoo! Before I get too excited, I still will make a framebag, as I need space for extra food/water for long stretches. I well may make a partial frame bag though, and leave room for a liter water bottle mount in the frame.

Light (weight) at the End of the Trail

If you are struggling with what to take or not, have someone look over your pile’O’stuff. Sometimes I get so fixated on choices that I don’t see the excess junk that my wife does. Of course to her most of my stuff is ‘excess’!

To put this entire gram counting in perspective, one master class racer said it best, “I haven’t weighed my stuff, I just take what I know I need”. So there! 

Critters de Tour: Things that go bump in the night

There's been questions every year regarding critters, mostly bears, on the TD race route. The following are comments liberally stolen from sources on the internet, interspersed with my own experiences.  No intent on my part is to be an expert, as I do not have direct experience with many creatures listed here, so take the following as one person's collection, and not a guarantee of safety! Although I have worked in grizzly and black bear country before, and seen several in the wild - never had a problem with them - fine with me! Ditto never happened upon a moose either, or wolf.

Coyotes:  These relatively harmless animals. They resemble dogs, are generally tan to light brown in color, and are about the size of a German Sheppard. They are skinny, and their fluffy coat makes them look a bit larger. Coyotes (almost) never attack adults. We have coyotes in our neighborhood, and although there are, ahem, mysteriously few small dogs and cats anymore, they do not bother people. The only real threat is to very small children. You may hear them howling, more of a yipping noise, and no recorded case of humans being injured by their noise is on record. There are two confirmed fatal attacks by coyotes in North America.; one on a three year old girl, and the other by a pack of coyotes on a 19 year old female hiking in Canada.
Wolves: Larger than coyotes, wolves are not a generally a threat, and if you see one you are very lucky, as they avoid humans in the wild. I found six cases during the past 100 years of fatal wolf attacks on the North American continent, that did not involve pet wolves, or zoo animal attacks.

Snakes: The most common snake to be concerned about is the western diamondback, Crotalus atrox. Commonly called a rattlesnake, or 'rattler', this snake is found from Canada to Mexico. It is classified as a pit viper, and injects venom via two fangs. The venom is hemotoxic, and causes death to tissues. Most fatalities from snake bites are to the very small and young, or to very old victims. Although called a rattlesnake, about a third of the snakes have lost their rattles, so may not give warning. Rattlers can strike about 2/3 of their length when they are coiled, and cannot 'jump' at a person. Twenty to forty percent of rattler bites are 'dry' warning bites and venom is not injected. Rattlesnake venom is 1/10th the strength of cobra venom. Snakes love shade when it is hot, and hang out near water if given the choice, as their food source also likes water. Avoid snakes by not stepping near logs or rocks that may shelter them. If you are lucky you may see them, especially in the lower elevations in Montana and Wyoming.  Along the route this is the most venomous snake you will encounter – North America does not have really nasty snakes such as cobras or the like.

I've worked in rattlesnake country for many years, seen hundreds of them, and not had a problem. (However, I do not handle rattlers for 'fun' anymore, as I used to when I was younger, immortal, and stupid!) When I was a medic in the Army, I helped treat several pit viper snake bites from the Okinawan 'Habu' - a snake related to the rattlesnake. Treatment is to use a constricting band above the bite (not a tourniquet!), keep the limb lower than the heart, and get the person to medical aid. Rattlesnake bites are rarely fatal to humans if treated promptly. An estimated 7,000 to 8,000 people are bitten by venomous snakes in the United States each year with approximately five deaths. The most important factor in survival following a severe envenomation is the amount of time elapsed between the bite and treatment. Most deaths occur between 6 and 48 hours after the bite. If antivenin treatment is given within 2 hours of the bite, however, the probability of recovery is greater than 99%.

Spiders: The two spiders that may hang out in outhouses (toilets) or old buildings are the Black Widow (similar to the Australian Redback), and the Brown Reclusa. The Black Widow is shiny black, about a cm or two long (total legs and body), has pronounced long front legs, and a red hourglass shape on its belly - yep, ya gotta turn it over to see! The reclusa is similar in size, and brown colored. Both are relatively harmless, and cause local tissue damage if a bite ensues. Check under toilet seats and watch where you place your hands if moving objects. We've got Black Widows living in our garage and outbuilding, and other than me vaporizing them if found, they don't cause a fuss.

Scorpions: Ditto watch where you reach, and check your shoes before you put them on in the morning. Scorpions are found in lower, hotter elevations. Their bite is like being stung by a wasp (I know), so not a dangerous beasty.

Wolverines: Wolverines are the size of medium dogs and have been described as looking like skunks or a small bear. They're difficult to spot as they travel alone and are shy. There are few documented cases of wolverine attacks on humans - most involve people trying to grab them. Really not an issue. You may see one if lucky.

Cougars (aka puma, mountain lion, mountain cat, catamount, or panther): Although cougar attacks have occurred on lone hikers and joggers, most attacks are on small children, and even those are rare. Cougars are solitary, and seeing one in the wild is a treat. I've seen two, and tracks of many. Cougars do not attack groups of people. Wikipedia says it best:  "At least 20 people in North America were killed by cougars between 1890 and 2011, including six in California. More than two-thirds of the Canadian fatalities occurred on Vancouver Island in British Columbia. Fatal cougar attacks are extremely rare and occur much less frequently than fatal dog attacks, fatal snake bites, fatal lightning strikes, or fatal bee stings. Children are particularly vulnerable. The majority of the child victims listed here were not accompanied by adults.

As with many predators, a cougar may attack if cornered, if a fleeing human stimulates their instinct to chase, or if a person "plays dead". Standing still quietly may cause the cougar to consider a person easy prey. Exaggerating the threat to the animal through intense eye contact, loud shouting, and any other action to appear larger and more menacing, may make the animal retreat. Fighting back with sticks and rocks, or even bare hands, is often effective in persuading an attacking cougar to disengage."

Cougar rule: Always intimidate them, and fight back. Never play dead! Wave your coat, pack, or bike above your head to appear larger, and stand your ground or advance slowly towards them while making a lot of noise and showing your best 'nasty face'. Do not bend or stoop down, as you will appear small and vulnerable. Stare them down, and never, ever run! Cougars also are deterred by bear spray.

There is a cougar in the hills above my house, and I don't have any concerns with riding there alone. Cougars may follow you, as they are curious like all cats. I have witnessed a cougar following another hiker, and one following me, with no ill effects. When I would ride at night in the snow I occasionally saw cougar tracks along my bike route.

Bears in general: Many problems with bears involve 'habituated' bears, or those who are used to humans and relate humans to garbage or left behind food at campsites. You will still see idiots at some national parks feeding bears (against the law)! There is a saying in the bear management circles that, "A fed bear is a dead bear.". This means that if a bear is habituated to food, it is either destroyed, or relocated. Relocated bears often continue to be a problem and must be destroyed.

Grizzly Bears (Ursus Horriblus) aka Brown Bears:
Identification - Even experts may have trouble identifying black from grizzly bears. Fur color is not reliable, as black bears may be brown and griz may be black. Size may not help either, as young, smaller, griz that resemble black bears are more curious and may approach more readily. Griz have a distinct hump between their shoulder blades, visible when they are on all fours. Black bears may have a hump that is visible when they have their head down when feeding. A key identifier is the shape of the bear's muzzle: a griz has a nose and forehead similar to that of dogs - a pronounced forehead - think German Sheppard face. A black bear has a nose bridge that slopes from the forehead to the tip - think Roman nose.

General Rules (exceptions noted below): The key to minimizing risk is to avoid encounters. Most human-bear conflicts are caused by surprise encounters, and bear attraction to human foods or related scents. The two worst encounters are surprising a mother with cubs, and being close to a bear's guarded food source (like a dead animal). Bear attacks on humans are relatively rare. Attacks on groups of three or more are even rarer. Bears are a lot like dogs in that each has a different personality. Some are passive, some are grumpy.

Rules to live by are to make noise when traveling and to camp safely. Bears are solitary creatures with an incredible sense of hearing and smell. Human voices in a low register carry well, noisemakers such as whistles also do OK. Bells have been found to be much less effective, and are derisively called 'dinner bells'. When camping, check the campsite to make sure that no trace of human food, food wrappers, or burnt food are evident. A bad sign is nearby bear scat with bits of human garbage. An even worse sign is bear scat with bike parts! If anything is amiss at the campsite, move on to someplace safer – period. Once a campsite has been compromised cleaning it up will do no good as bears have excellent ‘food location’ memory. Don't camp on trails, or in thick brush: bears travel as we do and use brush to lurk around in. Be aware that near rushing water noise does not carry well, and you must be extra vigilant.

Never cook in your tent, instead cook 50-100 meters from camp, downwind. Store food, wrappers, toiletries, sanitary napkins, sunscreen, bug spray and anything with a scent either in provided metal food lockers, or 100 meters downwind from camp, hung in a odor proof bag on a tree branch a minimum of 4 meters above the ground and 2 meters from the tree trunk..

1. Unlike black bears, grizzly bears always win. They will intimidate you. As when playing games with young children, let them 'win'. Assume a non-dominant posture, quarter away from the bear, slightly lower your head, and  keep him in your vision (never lose sight or turn your back to a bear)!

2. As with lions and tigers, running from the bear triggers the chase/attack response. Only prey runs. Prey also squeaks, so keep your voice low and gentle. Never make barking or grunting noises at the bear - it's a sign you want to fight. If the bear is far away, and starts a charge, you theoretically can climb a tree to escape. Keep this in mind: your feet must be 5 meters up a tree to be 'safe', and a bear can run at 10-15 meters per second, so do the math. Can you get to and climb a tree in 20 seconds? If so the bear traveled 200-300 meters in this time. A friend of mine has a dog warning sign on his fence: "My dog can make it to the gate in 2.1 seconds, can you?" .

3. The response to a charge is to 'spray and pray' if the bear gets within 6 meters, assuming you have bear spray. Know how to use it and keep it either on your person, or in a handy holster on your bike when riding.  Bear spray does not seem to make an actual attack worse.

4. If the bear does not charge, or if it is a false charge, slowly back away from the encounter. Statistically, the majority of charges end with no contact. If your movement agitates the bear, stand still until it leaves. The bear may charge several times. Dropping small items may distract a bear (but not food!), but keep your pack on if you have one - it may help protect you. (I'll fill you in later on my foolproof candy bar strategy for bear attacks - har har)

5. If the bear makes contact, it will most likely injure you. The key to minimizing injury is to play dead by covering your neck (very important!) and keeping on your stomach. The bear will try to turn you over - keep your feet and legs slightly spread to prevent this. Keep quite! The bear cannot open his mouth enough to crush your skull, but can kill by breaking your neck - keep it covered. It may chew on you, swat you, and bite you. When the bear leaves, stay still, as it may be watching you. Wait several minutes. If in a larger group, several people coming to the aid of a victim while the bear is attacking may drive it off.

Exceptions: If a bear attacks, and is actually eating, not just biting you, fight back. Aim for the delicate nose and eyes. If attacked at night while in your tent you have to make a judgment call: is the bear merely ripping open a tent looking for candy bars, or are you the object? If you are dragged out of your tent, it's time to fight back. Note that black bears sometimes are predatory, so identifying the species is not important in these cases.

Attacks / Charges: Most bear 'attacks', both by black and grizzly bears, end with an aborted 'false' charge. Unfortunately, the way to tell if the charge is a false one is when the contact does/doesn't occur.

Bear Spray: Bears have a nose that is seven times more sensitive than a dog's. This both lets them sniff out your Snickers candy bar from a mile away (quite literally), and leaves them vulnerable to irritants, such as bear spray. The spray is a 2% solution of the 'hot' in hot peppers. Police spray in contrast is a 10% concentration, as humans require more 'juice' to jar their relatively insensitive noses. From all that I have read regarding bear spray effectiveness, I would much rather carry bear spray for protection than a firearm, hands down (and being a red blooded American, it hurts to say that!).
The spray is available in Banff, costs about $30 to $40, and needs a holster or harness to carry it, unless you have a spare pocket or bottle holder available. Bear spray shoots about 6 meters.

Link to Youtube video Tom Smith's excellent presentation about bears:    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PExlT-5VU-Y

A map of grizzly bear concentration along the Tour route is located on the web at: https://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&oe=UTF8&t=h&msa=0&msid=200334849650645495946.00047e45e4239031f00c3&start=0&num=200&sll=46.7248,-112.807617&sspn=1.269004,2.221985&z=7 . Note that this map has three pages to scroll through.

Black Bears: As a general statement, black bears are less aggressive and inflict less serious injuries than Grizzly bears. Approximately 40 fatal attacks on humans in the wild have occurred in North America during the past 50 years. Many involved children, and only a few cases exist where groups were attacked.

Many of the same tips for avoiding grizzly bears apply to avoiding black bears. The main difference is that black bears can be intimidated! You can stare at a black bear to intimidate him/her, and shout to scare it away. Most surprised mother and cub black bears run off, or perhaps the mother will false charge. Actual contact is rare. Don't push your luck though! And if you want to intimidate the bear, be damn sure it is a black, and not grizzly, bear!

Moose: The danger list in the wild ranks Moose first, closely followed by Grizzly. No joke. According to Glacier National Park travel guide, "Although they appear gentle, wild moose attack hikers and tourists every year in Glacier National Park, Yellowstone, Grand Tetons, Alaska and throughout Canada. The park rangers said wild moose are more dangerous than grizzly bears. A moose will attack you when they feel threatened and are trying to ensure that you are not dangerous. Since a moose weighs upwards of 1,500 pounds, ensuring you are not a threat can be the same as being hit by a car! Generally, a wild moose judges a human as threatening due to bad judgment on our part, which is why you must know the reasons why moose will attack before hiking through moose habitat.

Why Wild Moose Attack:  Moose attacks generally occur in two seasons and for two reasons:

Early Summer with Calves - Moose mommas (or cow moose) are likely to have their calves alongside them during this time of year. If you come between a cow and its calf, you are in trouble. Cows do not have antlers, by the way.

Fall and Mating - Bull moose are highly aggressive in the fall when courting cows. If you encounter a bull moose during mating season, it may perceive you as a mating threat and ward you off by attacking. Another reason a moose will attack is if the moose is provoked by man or canine. If you see a wild moose, do not provoke it with words or weapons, such as rocks or sticks. Bull moose normally have large antlers.
As with bears, the best strategy is to make a lot of noise when hiking/biking.

How to Survive a Moose Attack
Remember, a moose charges to ward off potential threats. Wild moose are aggressive, but by assuring the bull or cow that you are not a threat, you can survive an aggressive moose encounter. Signs of an aggressive moose include:

Walking in your direction
Stomping its feet
Laying  its ears back
Grunting
Throwing its head back and forth

These are all signs of an aggressive, wild moose. If you are hiking through moose habitat and encounter a moose behaving in this manner, it perceives you as a threat and you must be prepared for an attack. If you see one that isn't approaching, your best bet is to avoid it and allow it to move out of your way. However, if you notice its hairs raised, head down and ears back, that's your cue to hightail it in the opposite direction. And when a moose licks its lips, that doesn't mean it finds you attractive. That's your signal to make tracks. Should you encounter an aggressive, wild moose, here is how to prevent and survive an attack:

 From limited data, it appears that bear spray may work on moose
 Back away with your palms facing the moose
 Speak softly and reassuringly, like you would to a little child

 If the moose charges, get behind a large tree or rock in order to separate your body from the moose. Most moose charges, like grizzly bear charges, are bluffs. One website states: When you see a bull, or male moose, charging at you, there's only one thing to do -- turn and run to avoid getting trampled. Although moose can outrun humans at their top speeds, many times they won't chase you far if you run away from them.

If you don't get away fast enough, and a moose knocks you down, don't struggle. If the moose attacks you, feign death by curling up in a little ball. Protect your head and neck with your arms. If you are wearing a backpack, your pack will protect your back. Curl into the fetal position and cover your head with your arms. Trying to move will only cause the moose to continue kicking and stomping.

Moose can kick with their front hooves like a good footballer, so watch out! They typically stomp their threat. If there is heavy brush or abundant tree trunks you can play 'dodgem' with the moose, keeping a tree or four between you and said moose.

That's about it for beastly beasties, so Welcome to North America !

Name of the Beast

"Think of mountain passes as an opportunity for elevation resolution"

The thought of climbing hills used to worry me a bit. Not the kind of fear as a kid when I climbed a tree to poke a stick at the porcupine, or when my friend Scotty tried to grab a baby squirrel out of the nest at the top of a pine tree and instead grabbed momma squirrel. No, this feeling was friction between my self image of not being an athlete and knowing that the TD hills were certainly enchanted, long and tall.

While we're mired in self disclosure, the TD hills looming the most were those in the Flathead Valley; Flathead, Cabin, and Galton Passes. Why? In 2013 I didn't ride in the Canadian Flathead, but surprised myself at actually enjoying some of the other climbs, getting stronger as the ride went on. Still, something about the Flathead rattled my cage. In 2015 when I got to Flathead Pass it turned out to be an easy spin to the top. Cabin pass was mildly annoying as the approach consisted of numerous rolling hills, before getting to the meat of the climb, but was very rideable. Galton was straight forward, up and up. At the top of Galton I remember thinking, "Crap, these are just tilted dirt roads!". And so they are.

What I am getting to is a characterization of the TD route. Remember that I am reformulating my training plan for 2017, and figured that even though I know what the route is, I need to pin down what the route requires in physical ability. Call it a science experiment. So what is the route?

One of the TD Gods once figured that the TD route consists of equal amounts of up, down, and flat. Looking at the elevation profile for the route, that seems reasonable. So lets figure that the downhill portion only requires coasting, or peddling for short distances, at a steady rate, with moderate force at best. That leaves the up and flat parts. The flat portion requires long duration peddling at a moderate to higher (headwinds?) force. The up portion means that we peddle at high intensities (relative to the down/flat), for the typical length of each pass - which is roughly 2 to 8 miles (but there are tons of shorter hills too!).

Notice in the list that there are no instances where we need raw sprint speed, unless you nurse the fantasy of nipping past a faster rider at Antelope Wells! This race consists of strength and endurance. Ok, what does endurance and strength mean in training terms? Best to take them one at a time. Which means a trip down the rabbit hole.

Endurance means that we can ride for a long time. But riding at five miles an hour for a long time is much different that at ten miles an hour. Let's modify endurance to mean riding at a 'race pace', whatever that means, for a long time each day. Long time for the TD means 12 to 20+ hours for us aged mortals. Figuring race pace speed is easy. For example, if you target 25 days for the entire race, and it is 2,700 miles long, then you need to ride an average of 108 miles each day.  Assuming that you ride (not counting stops) 12 hours each day, your average speed is nine miles an hour. Ride slower? Then you need to ride longer each day to meet your goal.

Except! Average doesn't cut it because the terrain gets in the way. Preparing for 2015 I did a massive, complicated spreadsheet of my anticipated racing pace and time, using my training pace, previous 2013 pace, expected daily saddle time, phase of the Jupiter's Moons, etc., etc., and came out with an average of 9 miles per hour. In that masterpiece of data delirium, I used a formula for speed on the up, down, and flat portions of the route. I figured that if Flat Speed is the base unit of measurement, then Downhill Speed is twice Flat, and Uphill Speed is one-half Flat Speed.

Do the relative math and you see that it is not speed that matters, it is Time spent on each portion. For example, the time spent on Uphills is twice that of Flats, and four times that on Downhills. Remember the rabbit hole? Trust me on this, for my assumptions the total time on hills is 57% of ride time. That on Flats is 29%, and Downhill is 14%, near enough, and the absolute numbers don't matter as much as the ratios do. Yer numbers may differ.

If I am riding over half the time uphill, guess what needs to be emphasized in training? Leg strength. The assumption that endurance alone is what is needed stumbles a bit. Yep, you also need endurance to go along with the strength. For hills, call it Muscular Endurance.

On the Flats, we use less strength but still need lot's of endurance. We just don't go as far into the strength intensity zone as on the hills. Call it Aerobic Endurance. Downhill - heck, better bone up on your rough track bike handling skills, as you already have the oomph to keep going - we don't train for Downhills as they come 'free', along with the other training.

So back to the 'average' pace. Some days your race plan goes swimmingly well. Other days it smells worse than you do. No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy. My race pace plan for 2015 lasted two days. Where was I? Oh yes, average pace. There are some stretches of the route where getting even close to the average daily miles is a miracle. Other stretches where you can literally, if you are willing to hurt enough, double it. The latter example might happen anywhere on the stretch from the top of Fleecer Ridge MT to past Coulter Bay WY. Fast times, low passes, pray for dry roads.

Dang rabbits! They seem to think that our backyard lawn is a banquet, and flowers are dessert. Rabbit urine kills grass, so we can tell where they have been dining by the bare spots. Although I have 'convinced' three of them to move on to other planes of existence, and closed off their favorite den with wire mesh, the rest have homes nearby (we live a block from the golf course - why can't they stay there?). Which leads to another rabbit hole we need to explore.

What is endurance? To know that we need to delve into how the old (pun intended) body works. Energy to fuel muscles comes from 'burning' nutrients. Call it 'food combined with oxygen'. If I get into the details I may get hate mail, so for you science purists, sorry. The waste from muscles ends up in your blood as something called 'lactate'. Being efficient, the liver recycles lactate into more fuel, but I digress. The more the muscles work, the more lactate builds up before it can be converted. At some level the muscles get the signal to stop making more lactate, and you got no more go power. Your muscles 'burn' and feel weak. This is called your 'Lactate Threshold', or LT.

Alternately, you may run out of oxygen before you reach your LT. Then your problem is that you aren't taking in enough oxygen into your blood from your lungs, and can't burn the food to fuel the muscles. You may be breathing in enough air, but the oxygen level in your blood is too low. This is called your Aerobic Threshold, or AT. If you continue past this point you go Anaerobic (which means you lay there gasping for breath!). Most athletic people run into LT problems before running out of air, but both matter. These explanations are dangerously close to science!

At this time I state the prime two rules for riding effort on the TD: NEVER go past your LT, NEVER go Anaerobic!

Being as smart as you are, you're wondering if both LT and AT levels can be improved by training. You betcha! An increase in LT basically means you can metabolize Lactate quicker. Up your AT, and you aren't limited by air intake. End result is that your muscles can operate longer, at higher intensities, which  means a faster pace.

To summarize, we need at least three things in our training plan; strength training, especially for the legs and 'core' (stomach and back - they act as a base for the legs), raising our LT level, and increasing our Aerobic Capacity.

Enough for this time - I've exceeded my BT (Blog Threshold) ! Next time I'll figure out what training increases my LT and AT, and how to increase strength. The song from the Rocky Horror Picture Show comes to mind,

"Such an effort
If he only knew of my plan
In just seven days
I can make you a man"

Only saw the movie seventeen times. The darn rabbits are out back again...

Motivation: Dirt Dive Your Ride

Motivation: Dirt Dive Your Ride

"Thank God training is over!" Me, at end of 2015 training for TD
"So, what, now you can go ride 2,700 miles?" Wife

Getting out on the bike takes effort, even if I look forward to riding. When I view it as a chore, it's even more of an effort. Don't let the Trail Fairy fool you, sometimes riding is a bit of a pain. Decision making theory that says people make their decisions several seconds before they are conscious of doing so. That gap is critical. Being aware of the process allows me to (sometimes) intercept the excuses for not riding, and steer my decision. Another way of dealing with it is to program my auto-pilot (logical brain response center) to always jump to the "I will ride today" decisions, before any excuses get in the way. Rituals help ( not the kind that involve reading chicken entrails) such as getting my kit on before I have a chance to make excuses.

This process is critical on long ultra rides. Waking up before dawn, or when it's really butt numbing cold, is a daily process. One trick I used was to exit my tent when I first woke up. Squirt out of the bunker before thinking, naked or not! Being outside takes away the excuse to hit the snooze button, and makes the decision to get on the bike easier. I also open the air valve on my pad when the GPS alarm goes off - and if I try to go back to sleep I'm on hard cold ground.

I guess I've drifted into the mental aspect of riding. Those who have raced the TD know that the mental and emotional part of the ride is much tougher than the physical. Ye who have not yet raced are wondering what the heck I mean. Was it Yogi Berra who said, "Baseball is 90% mental and the other half is physical."? Ditto racing the TD.

Discipline in both my riding routine and decision making makes the difference. That means practicing how I want to race when training. Back when I used to fall out of airplanes with my buddies, and teach others to do the same, we would rehearse the skydive on the ground (called 'dirt diving') several times before the jump. Our motto was "What you do on the ground you will do in the air" (our other motto was "Blue sky, Black death!", but I digress). Point is that making muscle memory and mental response meld together into an unconscious routine really helps when things get tough in the air, er, on the trail.

Lemme tell ya about three times my discipline failed on my last TD attempt:

 (Oh Trail Fairy, it has been months since my last confession, forgive me as I rode SRAM components)

- Day three I stopped early because I was tired, and a campground was handy. Turns out I couldn't get to sleep anyway until way late. Cost me at least 30 miles of riding.

- After lunch one day I had no energy - still don't know why - and stopped 40 miles short of my goal. I could have kept going, albeit slow, but let my discipline down.

- On the day I had a target of > 150 miles, I stopped early at 100 miles because a recent riding friend had rented a motel room and offered to share it with me. I had clear sailing, plenty of time left in the day.

(Trail Fairy: "The Trail forgives you. Say five hail Shimanos and switch to XT")

So what 'rules' did I violate? First one is keep making forward progress until you fall off the bike. Second, no matter how you feel, keep going and things will change: either for the worse or better. Third, ride at your own pace. There are a slew of 'rules' to ride by. These are a few.

I'm a sucker for witty moral boosters, hoping that chanting them will help develop mental discipline to the Nth degree. I've found some good quotes that help. Perhaps the best one for the TD is, "Get comfortable being uncomfortable". I also like, "Not dead, can't quit!", and the motto carved on the Navy Seal Training Center welcome sign, "The only easy day was yesterday!". (If you are wondering, no, I was an Army medic!)

Linking back to training, what you do in training you will do on the race. The decision making process during training follows you like a puppy on the race. If your puppy isn't 'paper trained', expect to suffer! I think of my decision and response process like a pile of round boulders: Solid and unshakable...until I pull one of the bottom rocks out, and then two fall, then four... It's not only essential that the 'pile' is made of solid decisions, it is crucial that they're cemented together (by practice), keeping one from undermining the whole stack. Let one fall, and others follow. Turns out my pile collapsed several times during the race. At this point you're asking yourself, "Do I want ideas from people who have been there and failed, or those who have never been there"? Yer choose.

I'm not even training yet, but I decided this year to keep up a 100 mile per week base level of riding. I ride my mountain bike on the road, mostly. Typically base mile rides are 30-40 miles each, elevation gain averaging 1,500 feet per ride, and I'm riding three times per week. Add a weight session each week at the gym, and a spin class, plus walks around the neighborhood. Sometimes I'm pooped! Compounding it all is that I use several standard routes, and they get boring. 

I didn't want to ride today. There, I said it. Blasphemy! This morning, after ingesting my HSF (Heart Starting Fluid - coffee), I automatically dressed to ride before I let myself make the 'Ride/No Ride' decision. Seemed kinda stupid not to ride, after being dressed and all! Turns out that the ride was pretty neat! For instance, I found that my max heart rate was higher than I've ever measured (I charged a long hill until collapse), and I felt positive on the rest of the ride. 

That brings up a maxim I've kept since my long distance running days, to paraphrase, "Never judge a ride until it is over." - similar to rule #2. Point is that the mental and physical perceptions can change rapidly. So a crappy ride turns out to be a good one after all. Many times during the TD I felt weak, tired, or emotionally wiped out, only to have a sudden change to the better. (This can happen both ways though!) If you read up on enough blogs by TD riders you'll find this paradoxical change happens quite often.

Of course, all of this 'ride regardless' is subject to real concerns of over-training stress, or making allowance for injuries or illness. I struggle keeping it real between actual reasons to not ride and excuses.

The discipline to train is the mother of racing discipline. Honor thy mother!

Where to Begin: Scary Numbers

You know you are old when you say, "Gee, I don't feel old!". 

Does age make a difference in how to ride a bike, or how to train for bike racing? Heck, should an 'old guy/gal' be training in the first place?

My first bike was a family shared 'English Racer', as we called the three speed wonder. Fresh in my mind are images of me at age seven, carefully balancing on the too large bike at the edge of the cement house steps, and pushing away for the first time on a wondrous bike journey that has lasted 59 years. Fresh too is the image of me crashing into the back of a parked car on that wobbly ride! Not the last of my "Watch me!" moments.

The first bike that was all mine was a red Schwinn single speed, with bright white handlebar grips, and shiny chrome wheels. Although the neighborhood kids didn't know it then, we rode what is now called singletrack in the forests every day, sometimes showing up at home for lunch, only to re launch for the afternoon ride. 

Many years and several bikes later, here I am retired, having all the bike time I want. The odd thing is I am in the best shape of my life, bike wise. Years are like any other numbers - only scary if you have never been there before. Remember the first long ride you ever did? Mine was at age 21.  An eighty seven mile ride on a Huffy ten speed beckoned, from the Sunrise Lodge on Mount Rainier (elevation 6,000') to Tacoma Washington at sea level. Eighty seven miles! Wow, I had never gone past twenty miles then. Lots of downhill. I ended up walking the last thirty miles, a beat and sore puppy. Fast forward through the years, and now some of my training rides are longer than that. So what's the difference?

Basically that is a major reason for blogging. Finding much detail about long distance bike racing/riding ('ultra endurance') is difficult, and most information for older riders is the anecdotal subjective experience of a few, ahem, 'Mature' riders. Most bike training books focus on road racing, often for younger riders. While I have a lot of respect for road racers, their races and rides are relatively fast, on paved surfaces, and emphasize bursts of speed. Endurance rides focus on long periods of saddle time, staying below the lactate threshold, and grinding out long miles at a moderate pace. Don't misunderstand, much can be learned from road racing and translated to ultra riding.

Watcha mean by 'long distance' chatty man? Well, I consider rides or races of at least several days, over varied terrain, with a goal of riding a lot of miles per day as 'long'. How many miles are a lot? To me, 70+ miles per day makes the minimum cut for a lot of miles. Barely. A hundred miles per day is definitely long distance. Two hundred is really, really a lot! Remember, these are back-to-back days. Hey, these are my ideas for distance, your mileage may vary!

Better clarify my orbital parameters - I became obsessed with the Great Tour Divide Mountain Bike Race (GTDMBR, whew!), or Tour Divide (TD)as is often called, several years ago. For those who don't know, the TD is an unsupported race, with no entry fee, no sponsoring organization, that starts at either Banff Canada heading south, or Antelope Wells New Mexico (on the Mexican border) heading north - rider's choice - and ends at the opposite end of roughly 2,700 miles of mostly gravel and dirt roads which cross the Continental Divide 26 times. Total elevation gain is the topic of much discussion over a few beers, but clocks in between 165,000 feet and 200,000 feet. The race prize? Nothing but bragging rights. Minimum distance per day to avoid being relegated to the 'Touring Class' is ninety miles. Winning time: a bit less than fourteen days for men, fifteen days for women.

Oh yeah, you must carry all your camping gear, tools, water, and food on your bike - no sag wagons or chase cars allowed!

Time to take a deep breath here. Remember the comment about scary numbers? If you are thinking anything like, "Crap - no way can I do that!!", relax. Perfectly common reaction, yet not at all as scary as first appears. Besides, you don't have to do the TD for your first ultra.

Better also clarify my experience and (lack of) athletic ability. Up until the TD, my bike races consisted of a few charity rides. That's about it. While I've enjoyed backpacking, mountain climbing, walking, bike riding, jogging, and skiing in my past, I was never what you would call an athlete. Far from it, other than a few foot races, I did not compete in any sports past high school. What I am getting at is that if I can do what I call an ultra ride, you can too. Nothing but scary numbers in between.

Five years ago I dusted of my mountain bike, neglected for several years, and started riding again. I was fat, sluggish, and getting on in years. My goal was to lose weight and get into shape. I thought that ten miles was a long ride. Fifty pounds and five years later I still am a bit over-weight (OK, more than a bit!), but I am in good shape. 

Twice I have tried the TD race; the first time the course was washed out so I fast toured half of it, and the second time I raced it 1,700 miles before I quit due to injuries. On the first TD ride we (a group of four) averaged 63 miles per day. The second time I averaged 103 miles per day, with several rides greater than 120 miles per day. All told I've done about twenty+ rides over 100 miles, with several back to back days.

I'm already planning my training and ride for the TD next year. I know what has worked, and what hasn't, for me so far. Yet it all seems seat-of-the-pants style training. This time I've got some changes in mind - call it a biology experiment, hah! - and will comment on the progress as I go. My sources for training ideas come from books, Internet lore - especially that on Bikepacking.net - and personal experience.  

As a fitting summary, my goals are to talk about what I find important, perhaps helping other older riders train and race, while learning from others what works for them. Will also chat a bit about my 'pit crew', mental preparation, gear, and bikes. Any way you look at it, we're all on the ride of our life!