Showing posts with label water. Show all posts
Showing posts with label water. Show all posts

Sunday, 9 February 2014

Epica Prep 2 (and final, besides commutes of course ...)

It was colder today than last weekend (-25 ish with a 26 km NW wind for a windchill in the high -30s), so naturally I decided I'd go farther. Well, not naturally. Not naturally at all. I just considered that it would be a good test of equipment, and me. Mostly me. I'm excited about the race, but there are always doubts to contend with. It's better to put your head down and dig in a la Boxer: "I will work harder. [Suffering] is always right." Which was, in fact, half of a two-pronged meditation delivered at church today (glory be I attended church for the first time in about two months and the message fits) in which the pastor quoted Richard Rohr who says, reasonably I think, that there are two ways available to all human being to experience "transformational change" (all right, I admit, that that term right there leaves hanging the question, "change for better or for worse?" and I'm thinking Rohr was thinking "for better" but there's no way of guaranteeing that sort of thing), through great love, or through great suffering. Which begs the question, "If you bring 'great suffering' on yourself, does it count?" Of course I'm inclined to say ... it depends. But it is possible. I believe it. It's my religion. It must be. It's the thing I'm most consistent at in my spiritual endeavours, I bring suffering on myself. At least that's the way I see it, from way over here in "first-world-problem-land." At the end of the ride, I looked like this:



Anyway, it was cold and windy, and I worked harder. I rode 16 miles. For four of those miles I followed dirt roads that are not used in winter (intermittent, and often significant drifting - "sculpted," as Ian so eloquently put it), and for two of those miles I rode the Trans-Canada Trail, which the snowmobilers around here seem to think is fair game for them, despite the signs (just proving that people who sit on their asses and move themselves around by twitching a thumb are indeed illiterate asshats). From this I learned that it's better to ride on snow drifted in and hardened by the wind then it is to follow a snowmobile track, which may or may not hold you and your bike up. The remaining miles were on gravel, with a one mile or so reprieve of pavement and paved trails in town (A-town).

Which brings me to what I learned today.
The bike which looks like this,


works, though I would like to do a parallel ride with a fat bike, just to see. Adjustments from last week's ride are: added bar tape to my "aero" bars (bar-ends that I installed on the centre of the bar, to give me a few options for riding position); strapped and bungied my pannier on top of my seatpost (because it's bigger than most rackbags and seatpost bags, and because it works - for me), and removed the traps on the pedals (which impacts my pedalling efficiency, but makes remounting and starting in the middle of snowpack way easier). By Saturday I'll have added a handlebar bag for a bit more storage - likely for food, and somehow strapped my cue sheep/map bag (Sealline) to the front bars ... somehow.

My face and eyes worked today. What I mean is, I tried petroleum jelly on my face (as a wind barrier) rather than a neoprene mask, which made the goggles stay frost free waaaaaay longer. Although there was some frost on them, and if I was going to try to read the cue sheet I'd have to lift them up, I could use them for the whole ride today. Nice. And it seems, as I write this now, that my cheeks and nose have not been frost-bitten. I did not believe that petroleum jelly would work. Now I believe. Yet another small conversion for this small doubting believer.

My feet were warmer, but not entirely. I was wearing my Sorels, with new inserts, but I needed to stop when I did. It took about 15 minutes after I stopped for them to be right. It was a longer and colder ride, so I'm finding some comfort in that, but now I'm thinking about buying some plastic pedals to reduce the cold transfer. It can't hurt.

The water situation is solved. I bought a 2L Platypus bag (on sale at MEC) and put it into an old "Mountain Gear" camelback knockoff bag (from MCC). I put it on top of my base layer, and then put a thin fleece and wind layer over top, and ran the waterline up my sleeve and clipped it at my wrist. Just over half-way into the ride the waterline worked. It actually seemed warm. I also bought a line insulator for it, but I didn't use it today, and I don't think I'll need too. This set-up was less intrusive than I anticipated. I hardly noticed it at all. Win.

Food. I didn't bring any along, which was a mistake, because I'm going to stop halfway through most of the legs on Saturday and eat something, because, well, food, it does a body good. During the week though I threw a variety of bars, etc, into the freezer to see how hard things would get. My results have led me to decide on using dried figs (still pliant when frozen), Oskri fig bars, and Larabars (though I don't really like them). Each of these are dense with sugars, and stay pliable in the cold. I'm interested in other ideas too, but this is what I've got so far.

Baselayer. I bought a merino wool base layer, and it does keep you feeling warm, even when it's wet, but it doesn't solve the sweaty-wetness problem. I'm scared shitless about how wet I was after this ride. I'm going to bring along numerous dry base-layers to change into, along the way. I'll keep the merino wool on, even when it's wet, but I'll add a dry layer overtop of that, hoping that it will wick up some of the wet and help to keep the chill and shiver out.

Looking forward I love it that the race route has so many turns and changes, and that there aren't many long stretches on one road or trail. The mental distraction of navigating, and changing terrain, will help with managing the discomforts.

Here we go!

Monday, 8 July 2013

Muerto Challenge report

This Spring when operacion muerto declared the summer challenge to be to ride from Virden to Falcon Lake, Franklin and I immediately said that we would make an attempt. On July 6 & 7 we began our journey. Below are our words and pics following that attempt.

July 6, 2013

Weather: Wind SE 13km all day, except after midnight when it picked up a bit.

Franklin’s report
7:45am - Left Virden carrying food and 1 gatorade & 4 litres of water




8:12am - Crossed the Assiniboine against a “road closed” sign. Turns out the road was passable for bike.




10:45am - On top of Old Baldy just east of Deerboine Colony. 90 kms in the roads have been ideal.

Unfolding, and checking the map, again.


12:00 - Brandon; lunch at Humpty’s. Had the Classic Burger. Couldn’t eat my fries. Not feeling well. Large chocolate milk & water. Added 2 Powerades & 1 litre of water.

The hills and winds roads of the Whitemud watershed.

A steep one: 7% grade.

Six miles of sand along an conservation corridor (right next to the powerlines!?).

2:15pm - Mile 64N is a conservation corridor … read: sand! The roads in general since Brandon have been loose gravel.
3:15ish - Stopped at a potato farm for water on mile 65N. Added about 3 litres.

4:15pm - 155km in. Not quite halfway. Hitting a wall. Also the last of the big climbs.

5:00pm - Austin for supper: Onion chicken Teriyaki with guacamole sub; 500ml chocolate milk & 500ml of orange juice (2 – 500ml waters in jersey). @200km I hit another wall; not sure how to finish

The first mile of Darrel Rd.

The end of Darrel Rd.

9:33pm - Darrel Road turns out to be a pasture and a field. We can bike through the pasture, but must walk through the field.





July 7, 2013
Weather:  Over night, thunder and rain threaten, but that's all. Wind shifts to come from the West at 20 km/h and by midday it's 30'C (and more).

9:45pm  - The Portage Sandhills Wildlife Management area – the sand had been graded, but we kept breaking through the crust and plowing our bikes. Maybe 4 miles of this. Couldn’t stop because the mosquitoes were terrible. Fell and broke my pedal, so I couldn’t clip in on that side anymore.

10:30pm - Through the Sandhills, on good gravel. Turns out we only had just over four hours to go.

12:30am - Confusion over how to get into the city when the road turns to dirt and grass. We play it safe and go on roads Paul has travelled before.

2:00am - On Roblin Blvd. out of the gusting wind. The lightning storm is chasing us in. We make it in to the perimeter and stop at a Shell station for water. I still have some left. We depart and my bladder hose hooks into the spokes and rips the nipple off. We carry on.

2:45am - Arrive at 661 Campbell for a rest. 335 km in, 15 hours 39 minutes on the bike. Rod & Connie’s place offers showers, food & rest.

6:30am - Wake up, turn on the A/C and go back to bed. Not feeling well.

7:30am - Wake up, tell Paul he is on his own. Call Bethany and go back to bed.
Paul texts later to say he finished at 6:10pm, and went 190 km. Good for him, I couldn’t have done it.

Paul’s report
Everything Franklin reports checks out, as far as I experienced it. I’ll continue with my timeline. Since Franklin had the camera (his phone), the pictures from here on in are limited to the one I asked Brennan to take and email to me at the Falcon Lake Golf Course. 

7:30am - Hearing that I’m on my own, and that Franklin’s okay with me continuing, I make coffee and oatmeal for breakfast.

8:10am - Back in the saddle, heading toward Dugald Rd.

9:25am - Stop at Deacon’s corner for a shit and 2nd breakfast – coffee, cinnamon bun, & banana. (a little surprised that I can shit)

11:45am - Ride south off the course into St. Anne for lunch and water.

3:30ish - Found the through road (Railway Bridge Rd) from Hadashville over to the road to Prawda. Fuel stop here: chocolate milk, butter tart, apple turnover, water.

5:55pm - The double water-bottle holder attached to my seat falls off (the heads of the two bolts holding the clamp shear off) and it’s water bottles all over the highway. Fortunately there’s no traffic and I can retrieve them. I redistribute my load, stuff the two bottles into my jersey, and carry on.

6:10pm - Pull in to the Falcon Lake Golf Course. A Fat Boy, fries, and a Corona never tasted so so good.


Notables
Ups
- The terrain north of the #1 between Virden and Brandon was beautiful. Riding the hills there was great!
- The fire and logging roads between Richer and the road up to Hadashville were at times super fun (Riding the water stretch was fun; it seems that sand is better for bikes when it’s wet than when it’s bone dry.)
- “saltstick caps” electrolyte capsules – I don’t think I could have found/carried enough Gatorade, etc, to keep my salts and electrolytes up, to make the water and food work – these capsules saved my ass. This I believe.
- The potato farmers north of Brandon who turned on their garden hose and let us fill up with the coldest, bestest tasting water ever. 
- Burgers and fries.
- A tail wind on Day 2.

Downs
- Sandy gravel: The gravel west of Portage tends to be much softer, with a fine fine grit that just sucks the life out of you.
- A broken pedal.
- A headwind on Day 1.
- The loss of a hardworking companion and intrepid navigator.
- Tendonitis in my left Achilles.

Final words (Paul)
I've never ridden this kind of distance before. It was daunting from the outset, but once you're in it, you just keep going. It's the kind of endeavour that, before you enter into the heart of it, you're more aware of the risks than when you're in the midst of it trying to manage those same risks. I'd much rather be in the thick of it moving and working, than standing back and trying to anticipate what might go wrong. Not that preparation and standing back isn't crucial, it's just not real enough to get me going.

Yet, finishing and having ended the suffering is sweeter still than being in the middle of it. Of course the paradox of it is that the sweetness of finishing cannot happen without being in the midst of the suffering. At some point during Day 1 we talked, briefly (pant pant), about the philosophy of suffering. In my religious background suffering is viewed as redeeming when done for righteous causes. I don't buy this approach anymore. Suffering is not merely a necessary evil that happens to you, that one endures. Suffering is to be pursued and then pushed through. It's a cliche to say it - but it strengthens and matures. It is a good all its own.

Maps
Below you'll find images of the maps we used. The route we rode is in yellow. The other markings are notes and failures and possibilities. 







Wednesday, 3 July 2013

Dirt roads, gravel roads - and it's hot hot hot

In the heat of the day (up to 35'C) I rode today, following this route (although it's not totally accurate because Google Maps doesn't let you map your travel on dirt roads - the route I rode did not include Hwy 30, but it did include the road one mile West of it, going North into A-town).

I took along 2 litres of water, which was probably not enough for this heat. That is, my sense the 1 litre per hour would be enough, will not be enough if it's 30+'C. This is a concern. It will be addressed ... somehow.