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The King of the 25-Milers

07.03.2011 by Ray Niekamp // 7 Comments

My riding so far this year hasn’t been anywhere near the level of last year, when I racked up over 4,000 miles. That hasn’t particularly bothered me, since I’ve been riding regularly and have been enjoying myself on the bike. But I did a ride today that put things in perspective.

I met some B-level friends out in Dripping Springs for a ride in the country. Debra, who is a fellow club member, lives out that way so she doesn’t come into town a lot for rides (last weekend was a welcome exception). Joining us were Debra’s husband Russ, her friend Barbara, and Beth Ann, a newcomer to our rides.

We decided to head out on a favorite route, mindful that Beth Ann wasn’t used to riding with us. She kept up without much trouble, but when we reached a four-way intersection about 10 miles into the ride, she opted to turn around and head back to the start. Russ rode with her.

Barbara is training for some long rides at the end of the summer, and wants to get as many miles behind her as possible. I was only too glad to join. Looking back over my ride log, it appears the bulk of my rides are shorter than 27 miles. I’ve ridden more than 30 miles only 10 times since the beginning of the year. Like I say, I’m not riding at the level I was last year.

The three of us had a lot of fun riding over the irregular hills. At one point, I led a three-person paceline for over a mile, as we flew through a level-to-slightly downhill section. Another spot had us roaring down a big hill at about 34 mph into a ranch that straddled the road.

We stopped for a break and opted to take another road that would lead us farther away from the park where we started our ride. By this time, it had gotten hot. I had no snap in my legs for the uphill sections. Debra lagged back with me, while Barbara– the “Energizer Bunny” — kept a steady pace and was soon well ahead of us.

We were past the 30-mile mark by now, and I was having trouble on the uphills — none of which was especially challenging. I found myself in really low gears much of the time. The energy bar and water I had taken in at our last stop didn’t seem to have much effect. I watched Barbara and Debra as they pulled steadily farther ahead of me.

But then, I hit a nice downhill section. Gravity is my friend, since I’m a bulky guy compared to those two. I flew past them and kept up my momentum — a good strategy in rolling hills. Soon both were out of sight to my rear. I kept up my brisk pace, and felt as though the food and drink were starting to kick in. When I reached a twisty section with a poor road surface, I pulled under the shade of a tree to wait for them.

We rested and chatted a bit more, then headed out. All the energy I had displayed in the past several minutes must have stayed under that tree. I couldn’t get going. I rode well enough to keep them in my sights, and even stood to pedal on hills, but I didn’t make up any lost ground.

The last mile or two into the park is slightly uphill, and I crept along the road thinking only of the cool of my air-conditioned car when I got there. I think I was going a whopping 7 mph. I saw Debra make a turn into the park, and I could see Barbara who already had her bike on her car’s rack. I was about as blown out at the end of the ride as I have been since the LBJ 100 last March.

I don’t think this ride qualifies as a bonk. I had kept myself fueled with a Clif Bar and frequent (for a change) swigs of the water bottles. But at 41 miles, this was the longest ride I had done in months — and about 10 miles farther than I’m used to.

My typical weekend rides have been in the mid-20 mile range. I’m usually fresh when I’m done with those. Twenty-five miles is easy for me. But I might be in a rut with rides of that distance. I’ve got to start riding farther, and getting used to being in the saddle longer. I might be the King of the 25-Milers, but it’s a dubious honor.

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Categories // Heat, Rides Tags // mileage

Bonking on a Hot Day

06.07.2011 by Ray Niekamp // 8 Comments

John T. Cash

Bike Noob is pleased to present a guest post from John T. Cash. John T rides with the Noob occasionally, and he also comments here under the name “johnt.” He just took up biking last year. Over the weekend, he did an organized ride that he’d ridden in last year, and was looking forward to again. But this time, it didn’t turn out so well.

This year’s Atlas ride ( the first leg of the Texas 4000, which is a group of 50 University of Texas students who ride to Alaska to raise money for cancer), the 2nd I have participated in, started just like last year’s. But this year was a little more important to me as I had helped lead the initial training ride for the group back in September. I was riding the 54 mile route. I drove to the start at Cedar Park with my friend Hugo, who usually leads the  Jack and Adams bike shop weekly no drop ride. We hung out and made the usual small talk with those we knew and those we just met until the ride started. Hugo dropped me quickly as I am slow to warm up and usually struggle the first 10 miles until everything falls into place.

This ride though was different. Ten miles passed and the clouds burned off. By the first rest stop it was well over 90 degrees and I was drenched in sweat and still laboring. Lingering longer than I normally do at the rest stop I ate a lot of fruit and dropped a Nuun into my water bottle and drained it. Assured that the fruit and the Nuun would do the trick, I took off and waited for the lift that would renew my energy. At mile 20 and still struggling I had an epiphany. Although I had been riding regularly and had completed 59 miles at the Red Poppy ride six weeks before, I had ridden very little in the heat this year and I was in over my head.

Riding into the second rest stop again just drenched in sweat and feeling very depleted, I wolfed down an energy bar and grabbed several slices of watermelon and oranges and sat on the bridge to contemplate whether to SAG in right then and there. I must have looked pretty bad because a couple of Texas 4000 riders recognized me and asked if I was OK. “Yes, I’m fine,” I muttered — not too convincingly.

As I pondered whether to hang it up I realized I knew most of the SAG volunteers because of my relationship to Hugo. Ugh, how embarrassing. At age 53, the last thing I wanted to do is be another old man bonking in the heat, especially in front of folks I know. With my precious ego in jeopardy I chugged down another bottle of Nuun water, grabbed a couple of energy bars and decided to soldier on. As I slogged along with the sun beating down and the temperature well above 95 I made my plan. I had my heart rate monitor and tried to make sure it stayed around 120-125. I would drink water every two miles and nibble on my energy bars. While not terribly hilly, the route is not flat and I stayed in the lowest gear on any incline and coasted as much as I could. Each pedal stroke had a purpose, each shift a way to save energy. Each sip of water or bite of energy bar was the fuel to pedal up another long roller. A nice lady in her 40s rode up and tried to make small talk but I could only grunt or nod and she pedaled off probably thinking what an assh—. A sag driver driving the opposite way probably noticed how slow and wobbly I was yelled at me as he passed, “You OK?” I weakly waved and plowed on.

At mile 38 I started to really lose it and more than a little dizzy stopped and got off the bike. With only a few miles to the next rest stop I decided to pour the remainder of one of my water bottles over my head and soak my bandana. I dropped another Nuun in my other bottle and chugged the tepid mixture dry. “You OK?” sang the chorus as a peloton of 20 somethings zipped past. After a few more minutes, the dizziness passed and I wobbled to the last rest stop. Inhaling a bunch of watermelon and oranges, I lingered for at least 20 minutes and then took off a bit refreshed. A young couple fell in with me and I chatted with them. They were thinking about having a baby (amazing what people confide to strangers on a bike) and I started to perk up a bit as the terrain ran downhill. Once we hit a couple of long rollers I let them go and went back to struggling.

Somehow the miles went by and as luck would have it the last 4 miles were uphill in a headwind but I somehow made it to the finish at 1:30 p.m., 5 1/2 hours and a full hour over my time the year before. I saw Hugo right off the bat and he quickly pointed out the time, how bad I looked and how he had been worried about me. I brushed past, muttered an obscenity and downed a couple of cold water bottles and demolished a bbq plate with all the fixings.

In the shade my head quit pounding, the dizziness left and I realized that I had just completed my most successful and fulfilling ride. It took all of what little I know about the bike, my body and what I didn’t know about what I was made of to complete this ride. Whether it was some misguided attempt at protecting my ego or a stubbornness or tenacity I didn’t know I had, I don’t know. I do know now why I decided to start riding a bike at age 52.

Before you ask — John T. tells me he was well fueled:  “I had a pasta dinner, I had a good breakfast, and ate a big free bagel at the school before the start,” he said. But he’s been riding only 40-50 miles a week, and that at times of day when the heat isn’t so intense. “In hindsight, maybe not such a good idea,” he told me.

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Categories // guest post, Heat, Rides Tags // guest post, heat, Rides

Those T-shirt Rides I’m Not Doing? I Did One

03.27.2011 by Ray Niekamp // 7 Comments

Shortly after posting that I would henceforth be skipping t-shirt rides (organized rides), Mrs. Noob asked if I had registered us for the LBJ 100.

“No,” I said. “And I’m not planning to.”

“Well, I want to go,” she said.

That took care of that.

We did the ride last year, and I performed poorly. I had to sag out after about 55 miles of the 65-mile course — completely out of energy. I was determined to avoid a repeat of that this year. Fortunately, the forecast called for mild (if warm) temperatures, with only moderate wind.

Appropriately, the LBJ Ranch is on Texas Ranch Road 1.

The ride starts and finishes at the LBJ Ranch, the former home of President Lyndon B. Johnson. His daughter Luci is a great supporter of the ride, which raises money for the historical site on the ranch. It’s now run by the National Park Service.

An airstrip behind the ranch house served as a runway for LBJ’s planes when he was president. The big Air Force One couldn’t land here, so he would fly into Austin (then Bergstrom Air Force Base) and take a smaller jet to the ranch. Cyclists drive onto the runway and park. The ride starts at the base of the runway.

The runway, looking toward the start.

It appeared to be an even larger crowd than last year. My friend and riding companion Rick said there were over 700 pre-registered, and they were expecting the total to top 1600. The ride included routes of 10, 30, 42, and 62 miles. Pat did the 30 with Rick’s wife Penny, and Rick and I opted for the 62.

The route out from the ranch is beautiful, and the roads near the ranch are lightly traveled. We didn’t push to leave with the lead pack, but took our time. Rick is a strong rider, and we skipped the first two rest stops. By the time we hit the third, about 25 miles into the ride, we were ready for a refill of the water bottles.

Rick looks over the old Willow City school building, site of our first rest stop of the day.

This is the Texas Hill Country after all, and we were in for our share of rollers. None of the hills is steep. However, some gradual climbs go on for some distance, and those are the ones that really take it out of you. By the halfway point, Rick was way ahead out of sight. I limped into the rest stop at Sandy, the easternmost point of the ride, and took longer than usual to unwind. A hot spot had flared up on the bottom of my left foot, and I could feel my energy waning as the temperature warmed into the 80s. I downed a bottle of Pickle Juice Sport (horrible stuff, but it seems to prevent cramping — I had no issues with that this day), refilled my bottle twice, and had a banana and an orange slice. The peanut butter and jelly sandwich quarters just didn’t appeal to me in the heat.

Most of my riding so far this year has been in the 20-30 mile range. My long ride was 37 miles. Clearly, I hadn’t built the base miles I needed to tackle a metric century.

It’s a little over 20 miles from Sandy back to the ranch, but the first 10 are all uphill. Again, these are mild grades, but they’re probably the most difficult thing in biking for me. I wasn’t the only one having trouble with them. About four miles out from Sandy, two guys were sitting in a shady spot. I pulled over for a rest and a pull on my water bottle. Both of them were in bad shape. One had cramps in both thighs, and could hardly walk. The other seemed to be in the early stages of heat exhaustion. A sag wagon was taking a third guy out — they would send another van back for these two. While I was there, another rider stopped and announced he was done, too. I got back on the bike and started pedaling for the next rest stop.

A little farther on, I was passed by a cyclist going perhaps 6 mph to my 5. “I’m ready to get off the bike,” he said.

“Me too,” I replied. “But a lot of people need sag more than I do, so I’ll just keep going.”

“I saw that. Let’s go,” he answered.

Many cyclists were going no more than 5 mph as they approached this rest stop.

This year, they put a rest stop at the spot where I called it quits last year. The friendly volunteers filled my water bottle with ice before I topped it off — most welcome. I choked down a small energy bar of some kind (a kind I will never try again) and sat in a shady spot to rest. More people were barely limping in under their own power. The sag wagons were busy, taking some folks to the next rest stop, and others back to the ranch. But this was the high point (altitudinally) of the route. We had some great downhills to the last rest stop and the ride back to the ranch was mostly downhill or flat. I rode slowly onto the runway about 15 minutes after Rick arrived.

“You’re right,” he said, as we and the wives sat in the food tent afterward. “This is just a t-shirt ride. But the scenery is pretty good, and the start at the LBJ Ranch is unique.”

Pat nodded in agreement. It looks like we’ll be back next year. And I’ll be a lot smarter — I’ve already decided I’m only doing the 42.

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Categories // Heat, Rides Tags // ride

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