Day 20: the 140 mile recovery ride

A "recovery ride" is defined as a easy going ride one might take the day after a hard ride to get more blood flow through the muscles to help them recuperate.  This can dispel muscle soreness and stiffness more effectively than not riding at all. So its a bit facetious to use that title on today's ride but it still feels appropriate because of the comparative ease of today's riding both physically and mentally.

In more than one conversation in the last month a wag within earshot has jokingly described a transcontinental bike trip as "all downhill from the top of the Rockies to the Mississippi River."  Today that notion finally proved true as most of our course was following the winding Root River which joins the Mississippi just downstream from La Crosse Wisconsin, today's destination. Mostly downhill, mostly with a tailwind, lots of shady stretches, temperatures in the low to mid 70's, mostly low traffic smooth roads or bike trails, good company: my current definition of heaven.

So thanks be to where its due for the great weather conditions we keep getting. We are surfing a primo weather wave across the country, so far...

One of the striking things we've noticed at our slow pace is the change in monocrop agriculture to an idealized state which I'm presuming is thanks to genetic engineering for expanded herbicide and pesticide use. I tried to capture it with photos of this field of beans:

Not a weed to be seen in those rows. Also no bugs and no birds. The question arises: is this sustainable?

The link to cycling is the various performance enhancing drugs that have been used, and continue to be used, in the professional domain. Some of them, such as steroids, have had a clear detrimental effect on the long term health of the athlete. For others, such as blood doping (transfusing red blood cells extracted at a previous time to artificially increase the red blood cell count), its not so clear to me that permanent damage is done. From what I've seen of the former pro riders that have confessed to this type of cheating, some of whom live in the Asheville area, they seem to still be strong and healthy.

So I don't know for sure that this ultra-industrialization of agriculture which is occurring right now will result in a crash down the road, but the risk is certainly there.

Here's another couple movies for you showing the bike trails we got to ride today.

And photos showing beautiful landscape of southeastern Minnesota in the order from the flatter west to the more varied east to the typical busy road with which we end every day:

 Pelicans!

Nicely kept farms!

 Corn!

 Seeing hills as we go east

Approaching La Crosse

The mighty Mississippi River:

 A future PACTour customer

Day 19: Climbing in southwestern Minnesota

It seems to me that the inevitable acclimatization to repeated experiences always creeps up on you unawares. On yesterday's ride Paul jokingly referred to an almost imperceptible 1% grade over a few hundred feet as our hors catégorie climb for the day. On today's 118 mile ride a 4% climb over a quarter mile actually felt like a hill to us. That's pretty funny since the "Half Burner" rides (sponsored by the Blue Ridge Bicycle Club in Asheville NC) to which we were accustomed are typically routed over hills with 8%+ grades for multiple miles. In fact just today our buds back home went for a 56 mile half burner with 5164 feet of elevation. We did 2400 feet of elevation over 118 miles, and most of that 2400' was from the cracks every 20 feet in the old US Highway 16 "pavement". So our sense of what is a climb is going down fast, and Paul's cadence (speed of pedaling) is going down at about the same rate.

There is a great aspect of bike riding which is not available on these short climbing efforts we are making as we cross the Plains States. Contrast this with Day 15, back in the Black Hills, we rode up Iron Mountain Road which extended for 12 miles at a (relatively mild) grade of 4%. When you get to such a hill, the dynamic of a group of riders goes out the window. The "climbers" (thinner, lighter riders with the best power-to-weight ratio) go out front and motor effortlessly away - at least it sure looks effortless to me from my vantage point behind. Since speed drops when climbing, wind resistance is less of a factor so the advantage of staying on a wheel to draft the rider ahead also goes down. So the group generally breaks up, sorting itself automatically by the power-to-weight ratios.

For me climbing a long hill can be very taxing but only if I'm in a big hurry, for example trying to keep up with Paul, Rachel, Erin or Javier. Its difficult to think of a more torturous time on a bike than such a pursuit.  However I can always slow down to take it at the pace my body can handle it, or as my old college friend Willie Milner expressed it "you control the vertical." This is when the beautiful aspect of climbing emerges. Its so quiet. With the slower speed there is no whoosh of wind in your ears, with no one around in the mood to chat, with the birds singing in the trees, with new vistas opening up as you traverse one corner after another. Its also engaging for the mind to look at the shape of the hills, valleys and ridges, trying to suss out what pass the road is heading for and what route it make take to get there.

This is not to claim I'm sorry to see the top! And as my compatriots know, I ride for the descents.  But perhaps more on that another day.

Just a few photos from today.

Shot by me while drafting Lon Haldeman at the start:

Shot of me (in blue) while drafting Lon Haldeman at the start. I suppose its theoretically possible that I could tuck in closer:

Fellow tourist Vikki takes a pull:

This is what the PACTour mobile "sag" break looks like. These are set up every 25-35 miles before and after the more elaborate lunch break:

Darkening clouds over the course of the ride but no rain. Real nice and cool though - the high didn't get above 75 degrees.

Day 18: What was I thinking?

When one documents something in writing (i.e. this blog), one puts one's past self on the record for cross examination by one's present self, and there are plenty of contemplative hours on that **** bicycle seat for this inquisition to take place. The one I rued the most today was the assertion on Day 3 about headwinds not bothering me.

The first 95 miles of today's 134 mile stage were the toughest for me so far. Just two nights ago I mentioned to Susan Nortoranglo that none of the stages we'd done were as hard as the training rides Paul & I did before the start of the tour. That hurdle was sailed over by today's early miles: at the beginning my legs felt just like they did after we'd completed 160 miles on our 200 mile training ride. It's not hard to come up with 291 reasons for feeling that way: 146 miles Monday and 145 Tuesday. But we also faced a headwind which seemed determined to lower my spirits to the level of my legs. Our average moving speed (i.e. not counting time for breaks & lunch) at the final rest stop at mile 104 was 16.1 MPH even though we'd generally been going downhill.

But as happened repeatedly on this tour, things turned around in the end with strong tailwinds encouraging a romping final 30 miles to get into our destination. So that was fun and the spirits were revived and I'm ready for another heave-ho tomorrow. And our average moving speed for the ride as a whole was 17.4 MPH, an 8% increase in average speed.

One of the things I have time to contemplate on that **** saddle is the change in average speed since I keep the average speed for the ride displayed in front of me on my bike computer.  That 1.3 MPH increase in average speed looks pretty small, but its a hard number to budge once you've already put 104 miles into the formula. I think there is something counter-intuitive about the relationship between change of actual speed and change in average speed.  So let's see what the average speed for the final section of the ride must be to account for that bump.

16.1 MPH for 104 M = 6.45 H
17.4 MPH for 134 M = 7.70 H
Therefore the final stage is
30 Miles taking 1.35 Hours = 22 MPH

So the actual speed went up by 36% for 30 miles in order to get the average speed up by 8%. No fair! It isn't the devil's work or anything but still, I'm just saying...

Not too many photogenic things today. We made it out of South Dakota, and into Minnesota, which turns out to be a lot like South Dakota except greener with a bit more roll to the hills. But there was no sign at the state line, just "State Line Road." One of the interestinger things we noticed was that all backroads in eastern South Dakota are designated by number: streets run east-west and avenues run north-south.

As you can see, we are definitely in the outer boroughs.

The past couple days we were wondering what city was the origin for this grid, puzzled because the numbers were consistent across county lines. Eventually today I noticed the number roads were all spaced at 1 mile intervals and it became clear that the NW corner of South Dakota is the origin. So from the sign above it is 460 miles to the western and 254 miles to the northern borders of the state. This was a relatively recent change, done in the 1990's. It's almost like they want you to be able to find places. What a concept!

Views from the day:

The next three all look like they could be on the same stretch of road but the crops on the right side indicate that we are in a groundhog day scenario!

Thundershowers threatened but our wending way avoided them - yet more weather luck, knock on wood! And the temps were in the mid 70's or less.

 Greetings to Adrian!

 We confirmed its not an alien craft on the town banner:

 From the edge:

The art shot for the day is this accidental slo-mo movie Paul captured. You can see the bane of our existence jar his front wheel 12 seconds in.

Day 17: Half Way to the Atlantic

Today we passed the half-way point in our journey across the continent. At the end of each day's riding the map is updated to show our progress:

Today also marked the first time I've had a problem with my bike, which was the sudden onset of side-to-side play in my back wheel, indicating that the bearings were screwed up. I've been riding a PowerTap hub, a fancy gizmo that meters the pressure I am putting on the pedals and reports it wirelessly to the bicycle computer in watts. Of course I can do without it. In its defense it provides  info that can be helpful when I'm doing a "pull" (leading a pace line, so setting the pace) up a hill to monitor my effort closely so I don't "cook" the riders behind me and split up the group. So as the hill steepens I can hold the watts steady and slow down proportionately to the load.

I'm mentioning it because I want to give kudos to PACTour for their support in this kind of situation. The problem with the hub was not debilitating so I was able to ride 10 miles after it occurred to the Lunch break. Crew member John L was at the lunch area with the main truck and trailer, and he supplied me with a spare "team wheel" that got me back on the road within minutes. At the motel tonight John L and Lon Haldeman diagnosed the issue, determined that they couldn't replace the bearings, and gave me some options including buying an replacement wheel at a very reasonable price. Unfortunately the wheel for sale wouldn't support my 11 speed gear cluster so instead they offered to let me continue to use the team wheel for the tour on loan. I'll ship my PowerTap wheel in for repairs tomorrow or the day after that. I really appreciate the help in keeping my bike going!

I didn't stop to take a lot of pictures in central South Dakota. We started early at 6:30 AM, we crossed the Missouri, we saw some longhorn cows and a riding mower with a sidecar, we got in after 4 PM after completing 144 miles. Then we went and saw the Corn Palace, a local attraction since 1892.

Art shot of the day (from Paul)

Day 16: Finding our level in the Badlands

After the Black Hills, the next most remarkable feature of South Dakota is the Badlands. Like the Black Hills, this is sacred ground to the indigenous people. But in this case the National Park Service has ceded some control and splits the entrance fees with the Oglala Sioux nation. 

The theme of levels revealed itself in many aspects of the day, from the eroded plain at the base of the yet to be eroded heights of the Badlands with its horizontal sedimentary geology, to the ponds dotting the landscape, to the abandoned railroad bed visible next to much of our final 40 miles through undulating hills.

But the level of most personal interest is whether I am ready to step it up for a new kind of riding. Now that we have left the western heights the climbing load is reduced but not the hours of exertion. At 146 miles, today's is the longest ride of the tour. But is only the start of a new phase of central and eastern stages with almost every day exceeding 125 miles.

One surprising thing I noticed today is that I no longer find the prospect of a long stretch of road in front of me as far as the eye can see to be daunting.  I guess once you've ridden a dozen of those you realize the eye can't really see that far - 5 miles being about the limit outside of Nevada - and 5 miles is no big deal.

Nevertheless it was with some trepidation that we rose before sunrise to get out on the road an hour earlier than our accustomed time, both to have more time to do more miles, and because our departure was Mountain Time and destination Central Time (2 time zones down, 2 to go!)

We were pleasantly surprised by the ease and beauty of the 50 mile run from Rapid City to the start of the Badlands thanks to a tailwind.

The wildlife inside the park is cool to say the least. Photo credit to Paul:

We reached the lunch stop after mile 70 with an average pace of over 19 MPH.

Levels on levels

After traversing north on the main drag of Badlands National Park, we struck I-90 which had an excellent frontage road for the entire remainder of the ride into the hamlet of Murdo, South Dakota. Here Paul and Rachel start one of those long stretches on the frontage road next to I-90:

As with riding on the interstate highway, I had some doubts about the quality of the ride on a frontage road instead of a back road. But hey! it made for very good riding because (1) it was far enough away from the interstate so we didn't have the noise I thought we would, and (2) it was completely devoid of traffic. Coming into Murdo Paul quipped "the change in the timezone to an hour later had just the effect I was worried about: being stuck in Murdo rush hour traffic" - this after being passed by a second vehicle within 5 minutes.

Water likes to find its level.

The abandoned railroad grade down the hill on right likes the level too. I'd be interested in finding out more about the history of this line.