3 States, 3 Mountains

Saturday was the first century of the year for me. It was a mixed bag, but overall I'm happy with what I did.

Friday Afternoon
I loaded up the van with 3 Boy Scouts that I was dropping off at an Order of The Arrow Ordeal at the Boy Scout camp just off the road between Birmingham and Chattanooga. All the hotels in Chattanooga were sold out, since a lot of the 2500 riders who do this century are from out of town. In fact, places like Germany, Niger, and Toronto were represented (as was Salt Lake City, Oregon, and California).

Anyway, all the hotel were booked months ago, and so my plan was to sleep in my van (remove seats, use a pad and a blanket and pillow, sleep in the van). But my wife had expressed a concern that sleeping in the car in a strange and possibly dangerous part of town wasn't the smartest thing I could do, so when I got to the Scout Camp I asked a leader (who is in our ward) if there was a place at the camp where I could crash for the night. He said to just go use one of the bunks in his cabin. So I dropped the kids and headed to bed...early...because I needed an early start to cover the 60 miles between the camp and Chattanooga, as well as the time zone change along the way.

I had been asleep about 3 hours when I was awakened and due to noise issues, couldn't get back to sleep. I realized that if I left right then (about 1am) I could get to Chattanooga, and be asleep in my van (plan A) in time to still get a good night's rest before the ride started at 8:00. So I left camp and arrived at the Bob Finley Football Stadium in south Chattanooga. I noticed that Dirt Dog and K2 had their camper already in the lot and so I pulled up and shifted seats and started back to sleep.

It's tornado season in the south, what could I expect?
Plan A, which by now was plan C started out well enough, but just as I was drifting off to sleep, thunder and lightning began and rain started to fall hard. This slowed down my falling asleep somewhat as I pondered the implications of thunderstorms on the ride later that morning. Just as I was dozing off, the tornado sirens started up. And they didn't stop until about 4:30. So I was sitting in my car, trying to sleep, in the middle of a large open area (a stadium parking lot), with tornado sirens sounding all night. If it hadn't been for the noise, the terror would have kept me awake anyway.

Morning has broken
Occasionally, as the time went by, more vehicles started arriving, their occupants trying to catch up on sleep. One of the great things about spending the night this way was that in the morning, my car was parked right next to the start line, as close as I could get to the stadium facilities (toilets, showers, covered and warm areas, etc).

When morning finally arrived, it was cold. Much colder than I ever thought it could be in May in the south. I gave serious consideration to biting the bullet on a pair of tights and arm warmers but decided that I should bear the cold as punishment for not bringing my own.

Having made that decision, the rain began again.

This was a good thing...you see, I had my Goretex rain gear with me. All I needed was an excuse to wear it. I decided that it wasn't raining hard enough to worry about my legs or feet, and just went with the jacket. Later this would prove to be the smartest thing I'd done all day (I could have been smarter and skipped the jacket altogether, but I'll get to that in a minute).

BANG!!
I got my act together just in time for my sleep deprived shivering body to arrive at the start and push my way in as the ride officially began.

I've done some large rides before (Rosarito-Ensenanda, 10,000 riders; Solvang, 4,500 riders; Tour De Sewer, 3000+) but I've never seen a mass start begin more slowly than this. We crawled north through downtown as people worked their way into position and up and down the pack looking for friends and likely riding companions. The rain falling may have had an effect on the pace as well, since people seemed to be extra cautious in corners and crosswalk areas.

Suck Creek Mountain
Eventually we left the downtown area (said area actually being a very nice and pleasant downtown area, btw) and continued northwest toward the Cumberland Plateau. After about 5 miles, the rain stopped and by 10 miles out the roads were fairly dry as well. Coincidentally, this is also where the first mountain begins. (I probably should mention that the theme of this event is 3 mountains in 3 states.) This first mountain is Suck Creek Mountain, in Tennessee. About 200 yards into the climb I realized that I was going to have to shed the rain jacket as I was overheating and just having it open wasn't enough. So I pulled to the side to remove the jacket, pack it away into its pocket and strap it to my waist.

Suck Creek Mountain was a very pleasant climb. It lasts a touch over 5 miles and averages about 5%. I noticed on the side of the road, a little creek rushing along, obviously swollen from the rain of the past several hours, similar to the creek that follows the road to Sundance from Provo Canyon. I was impressed with how scenic this climb was. I climbed at a comfortable pace, being passed by probably a hundred riders, but passing that many more myself. Before I knew it, I had reached the top and started down the other side. I'll just say right now that the descent from the top of Suck Creek Mountain is worth the price of the ride by itself. 5 miles of non stop 40mph descending through big sweeping curves and hairpins that drop out from underneath you like an elevator will put a grin on your face that it would take a disaster to remove. (oooh...foreshadowing...oooh)

This is not a mountain
From the bottom of Suck Creek Mountain, you begin traveling south southwest, eventually skirting along the shores of Nickajack Lake on the Tennessee River. Along the banks of Nickajack Lake, having turned west onto the south side of the lake, you begin climbing a relatively steep little grade, probably 7-8% that last a mile or so. The organizers, with typically sadistic organizer humor painted on the road the words, "this is not a mountain". Well, technically I'm sure they are correct. However, it certainly felt like a mountain and I for one consider their painted comment needlessly antagonistic...after all, one rider's "roller" is another hill slug's mountain.

Sand Mountain
Turning south away from Nickajack Lake, we crossed into Alabama and the roads immediately went to h.e. double hockey sticks. (insert rolly eyes here, as lousy pavement is a hallmark of rural Alabama life) Fortunately, this beat up pot-holed corncob that passes for a rural super-speedway didn't last but a couple of miles and then we turned off this teeth rattler and onto smoother pavement. On a less positive note, turning off this road also signaled the start of the second mountain (in, if you are keeping track, our second state), Sand Mountain. Yes, the very Sand Mountain made famous in the book Salvation on Sand Mountain...Snake Handling and Redemption in Southern Appalachia (we've got all kinds of strange things down here that kind of make the phrase "y'all come back now , ya hear!?" more of a dare, than an invitation).

Anyway, keeping a careful eye out for hill people who might want to redeem my sin racked, lycra covered soul by tossing a copper-headed-water-rattler at me, I settled into a pace that would let me finish this 7% 3 mile long grade with something left for the final state, mountain, and 40 miles. Like Suck Creek Mountain, I really enjoyed the scenery as the road wound its way up through the forest of pine and hardwoods. It was a smooth road with several switchbacks and well shaded. Had the day been hot, it would have been a pleasant place to be. Unfortunately for me, it hadn't started raining yet, which meant I still have my rain jacket tied around my waist, and it kept slipping down which meant I was trying to ride and keep the jacket adjusted at the same time.

Something else I should mention. So far, since September, I haven't put in more than 40 miles in a single ride. This fact alone conspired with the Sand Mountain climb to create an aching in my lower back that still haunted me through Fast and Testimony meeting yesterday. Calogipi said she was proud of me for staying awake during the meeting. What she didn't know was that I was in too much pain to fall asleep, (the chairs are not comfortable on a good day, let alone a day when you're already hurting). So anyway, though my back was hurting by the time I got to the top of Sand Mountain, I had successfully climbed the second mountain, and avoided reptile inflicted redemption. Unlike Suck Creek Mountain, once atop Sand Mountain, you have to cross the plateau before you get the payoff and get to descend the other side. In the case of Sand Mountain, this is about 25 miles of rolling roads that never let up. But somewhere along the way, I noticed that we had passed into Georgia (with 42 accompanying signs explaining the traffic laws that are unique to Georgia). Finally across the top, the descent was steep, winding and fast, but not as fun as the first descent back in Tennessee.

Lookout Mountain
Now in our third state, and again in the valley, we crossed under I-59 and though dreading the last climb, it came up quickly enough. Right after crossing under the interstate, there is an incredibly steep, but shortish hill to climb. This only gets you over a ridge and you drop right back down again. A few miles later you reach a food stop at the bottom of the Lookout Mountain Climb. This climb is the same one that the Tour De Georgia used a couple of weeks ago for their Individual Time Trial. It lasts for 2.5 miles at a steady 9%, with the final 3/10's mile at 18% over Burkhalter's Gap. While this hill was a whole new level in sheer torture and agony (my knees had joined my lower back in protesting the abuse being heaped upon them), I noticed something that I had noticed a couple of years ago while climbing Brasstown Bald at the Tour De Georgia...the energy you get from a crowd. Because there were crowds up in Burkhalter's Gap, and they were cheering and ringing cowbells and had written with sidewalk chalk all over the road, and it gives you energy. Somehow all their enthusiasm and energy is shared with the riders and you dig deeper and get going faster than you ever could do on your own. I actually smiled as I suffered up that last 1/3 of a mile.

From the top of Lookout Mountain, it's much the same as Sand Mountain in that you have to cross the rolling top of the mountain before you get to descend. In this case, you reach the top of Burkhalter's Gap at 83 miles into the ride, and begin descending back into Chattanooga at 93 miles. Like Suck Creek Mountain, the Lookout Mountain descent is fast, not too steep, and fun. The final miles through town back to the stadium were pleasant and I enjoyed the fact that I had finished what I had set out (but not prepared properly) to do.

Some quick notes and conclusions:

1. This event is very well organized. Every intersection on the route has police directing traffic, giving cyclists the right of way. That's almost unheard of for events this long.

2. I'm glad I chose to leave my rain pants in the car. I was annoyed most of 90 miles by the jacket hanging from my waist and I can't imagine how frustrated I'd have been having to schlep paints around as well.

3. I really like large events. The huge number of cyclists makes for interesting conversations and except for a brief period of time right after the turnoff for the metric riders, I was never out of sight of another rider. I enjoy that type of ride.

4. This isn't the hardest ride I've done, but I enjoyed it as much as any other. The variety in terrain and scenery, the event organization, and the weather all combined to make this a very enjoyable day.

5. I am definitely going back next year. And taking people with me. Calogipi wants to come and I want her to see it. The Beast will want to ride, and maybe I can bring Russ out of retirement to try another century (they'll have to let him out of France first, but there's a possibility).

6. Fun. Tired. Sore. Those all add up to a day well spent.

7. Oh, and that "foreshadowing" thing earlier...naw. I had a great time.