ODRAM 2008

Last weekend I rode the LMB's One Day Ride Across Michigan. The weather was absolutely wonderful, with plenty of sunshine and a mostly favorable light wind. The ride went from one side of the state to the other, west to east. It was 145 miles of challenging, somewhat sweaty, slightly painful fun.

The ODRAM doesn't follow the typical format for a club ride, which comprises a loop route with various stops along the way for food and water, with support vehicles cruising along the route to provide assistance if needed. Instead, ODRAM riders check in at the start of the ride (in the dark) and are on their own until they reach the finish where they check out, although there is a lunch provided at the approximate half-way point of the route.

The ride starts at Meinert County Park on the west shore of the state, just a little north of the Montague-Whitehall area, and follows a not-quite perfectly straight line across the state, finishing at Bay City State Park on the shore of Saginaw Bay. The route is relatively flat, with a starting elevation of about 575 ft at Meinert County Park beside Lake Michigan. Through gently rolling hills it gradually climbs to mile 80 where it peaks at 1080 ft. After the high point - and lunch - at mile 80, the rolling hills get a little flatter and the elevation gradually drops back down to finish at Saginaw Bay with about the same elevation as the start (the lakes are connected at the top of the state, of course, so have a similar elevation).

Since on-the-road support isn't provided by the organizers, and since the ride doesn't end where it starts, most riders arrange to have some sort of support follow them along the route. Support strategies vary, including commercial service through a bicycle shop (Velo City Cycles - a great shop in Holland, MI - maybe someday they'll let me open an Okemos branch) that provides food and water on route and a ride back from the finish to the start in tour bus. More commonly, friends or family members in cars meet riders at designated locations along the route. For a few, including me, there was no support along the route; all food and water was carried on the bike, and additional water was purchased at gas stations or other stores along the route. Cindy and her mom and the kids were not more than an hour or two away in our van and would have been available by phone if I'd run into unexpected problems I couldn't handle on the route. All of this means that participating in the ride is rather expensive in terms of fuel cost and in indebtedness to friends or family, and it isn't exactly a low-carbon emission sort of ride, with perhaps 25 or more (just guessing) cars following about 100 riders across the state. But it was fun!

Here's how it went:

Friday after the kids got out of school we drove to a little motel in Montague; 'we' included Cindy, Abbey, Quinn, and Grandma. That's perhaps a story in itself, but I'll save it for now. It was pretty nice, for a very low-budget operation, and had a hot tub in each room. The kids shared a room with Gradma, and they did love their hot tub. Cindy and I got a separate room so we didn't wake the rest of the group when we got up early in the morning to deliver me and my Soma Double Cross to the start of the ride.

The alarm went of at 4:30 a.m. I took a quick shower and assembled my gear. I made some coffee in the room and ate a bowl of yogurt mixed with Cindy's fresh home-made granola. It was close to 5:30 a.m. by the time we left the hotel. I was checking in at the registration table around 6:00 a.m. and pedaling up the road by about 6:20 a.m. It was a chilly morning, the sun had not begun to rise, and there was very light drizzle falling.

I used a tire-driven generator to run my headlight and taillight, and I also had a couple of extra battery-powered taillights on the rear. I used a little white LED light on my helmet that pointed down toward the map case on my handlebar bag. My lighting worked very well, although I think I had accidentally directed my headlight a little low when was installing my fenders recently, so the road wasn't lit as far in front of me as usual.

To keep warm, I wore a light wool top under a bicycling jersey. My feet were a little cold in the morning with only thin Smartwool socks under my close-fitting cycling shoes.

On my bike, I had a Jandd rack bag in the rear that carried my tool bag, a couple of tubes, a folded spare tire, my little pump, four GU energy gels, four Mojo bars, and eight single-serving packages of GU2O energy-and-electrolyte drink mix. The rack bag was only about 2/3 full, but it weighed a few pounds. In my handle-bar bag, which was about half full, I had my rain jacket, wallet, some eye drops, chap-stick, hand-sanitizer, sunscreen, glasses case with extra lenses and an extra mirror (rear-view that attaches to my glasses), bandanna, wallet, another four energy gels and another four Mojo bars. I have to keep the handlebar bag pretty light or it affects the steering of the bicycle. On my bicycle frame I carried two water bottles. My intention was to stop at convenience stores and gas stations to buy bottled water that I would mix with the GU2O packets in one water bottle. The other water bottle would just have water. All things considered, I think I was carrying more stuff than just about anybody else on the ride, and several pounds more than most.

For the first few miles I rode about 16 miles per hour. My strategy was to ride at a slow and steady pace so that I didn't burn out before the end. I was riding alone, but could see one little point of red light that was another rider a half mile or so in front of me. After just a few miles I was passed by a rider who was using a very bright headlight on his helmet and another on his handlebar. His lights lit the road and the surrounding trees and fields like daylight. I wondered how long his battery would last with that much output. I really like my generator-powered lights since they've been very reliable and I never have to worry about batteries, although I think I'd prefer a generator hub over the tire-driven version. Those are too expensive for me at the moment, however.

After about 12 miles, we crossed a small dam that was for foot- and bicycle-traffic only. It was the only 50 yards or so of the route that was not shared with motor vehicles. At that time the sky was light enough that I shut off my generator. I also passed the guy with the dim taillight and caught up with the guy with the bright headlights. The bright headlight guy was Adam, and I rode pretty much the rest of the ride with him. He was a 230-pound guy riding a 17.5-pound Specialized carbon-framed racing bicycle on it's third set of high-dollar ultra-light wheels. My wheels are quite stout, hand-built, 36-spoke touring wheels, and would likely support Adam's mass quite nicely. But he was a gram-counting sort of fellow. To transport my 150 pounds, I was on a 28-pound bicycle, not counting water bottles, handlebar bag, and trunk bag. It must have been 35 or even 40 pounds with the bottles and bags attached. On Adam's bike there were two smallish water bottles, his battery-powered lights (which he passed off to his support crew at the first stop), and a rather tiny under-the-seat bag that was about the size of a large pear. I would guess it held a multi-tool, a patch kit, and maybe a CO2 cartridge pump. Like most of the ODRAM riders, he was totally dependent on his support crew for food, water, and anything but very minor repairs. However, if you add up the weight of our bodies, bicycles, and gear, I was still pulling less total weight up the hills. He went faster going down, of course.

I am glad I met up with Adam. We were pretty well-matched, despite our differences in weight and gear, and it was fun to have someone to talk with while riding. I also rode much faster because I rode with him. We maintained a cruising pace of around 18 to 20 miles per hour during the morning, which was considerably faster than the 15 to 16 mph I had planned. In fact, at first I considered suggesting that he ride ahead because I was concerned I wouldn't be able to maintain his pace for the duration of the ride. We rode together except for one short stretch following a stop at a grocery, in which there was a line for the bathroom that seemed too long to wait. I lost track of him when he went looking for his support crew, so I decided to ride on to the next possible potty stop just a short distance down the road. He must have passed me while I was stopped, but we met up again a few miles down the road. Apparently, he'd even turned around for a mile or two to look for me. I felt a little guilty when I learned that.

The ride during the morning was remarkably, well, unremarkable. Once the sun was up, the scenery didn't change much. Agricultural fields separated by narrow bands of trees lined both sides of the road. Occasionally we passed through a small town, some of them looked worth a second visit, some didn't. Somewhere around mile 50, around 10ish a.m. we crossed the dam - Hardy Dam, I suppose - at the Hardy Dam Pond, which was kind of interesting because the road went across the spillway and dam, and at the spillway was lower than the level of the water just on the other side of the concrete wall. There was a nice little park beside the lake, which I thought might be good place for Cindy and the kids to visit. A few miles later, around 10:30 I finally got too warm and pulled off my wool shirt.

The lunch stop at mile 80 was a welcome site. I was ready to get off the saddle for a few minutes. The church ladies had prepared chicken noodle soup, and provided fruit, sandwiches, and cookies. I ate a bit of everything except the soup. I just didn't feel like eating a hot bowl of soup in the middle of a long, hot ride. I would have loved to try the soup if the weather had been cold and wet.

But the weather was perfect. After the light drizzle early in the morning the sky became mostly sunny with a high in the low 70s. The wind was mostly calm in the morning, although for a short time we rode into a slight breeze from the east. After lunch the wind began to pick up from the west and then became straight from the west. It was really helpful during the last couple of hours.

After lunch, as the road flattened and the wind picked up, Adam and I really made good time. We began to realize that we were close to the front of the group of about 95 ODRAM riders. At mile 115, Adam's girlfriend said she'd counted riders ahead of us and we were the 9th and 10th in the group.

The ODRAM is not a race. My attitude during training and at the start was that it was a tour; an easy but speedy ride across the state. It makes sense to ride gently, but it's also true that the slower you ride the longer you spend in the saddle. My goal was to finish strong and comfortable with an average pace at or above 15 mph. I generally try to be sort of opposed to the prevalent racing-bike mentality in which all "real" cyclists ride 15-pound racing bikes with only the latest carbon-fiber components and super-light wheels, preferring the idea of the classically-styled randonneuring bicycle. However, I do love the challenge of pushing my limits, and racing against myself. Even riding with Adam at a faster pace, we generally rode side-by-side rather than drafting behind one another in a single file line (of course, we pulled into a single file line when traffic approached from behind). To me, this may have been because it really would have seemed like we were in a race if we were riding single file and trading positions. Also, with my handlebar bag, which I love because of the clear map pocket on top, I can't actually see the front of my front wheel, which makes riding close together a little more scary. I considered suggesting that we ride in a pace line formation, but it's a little more risky. It might have been worth it if we'd had a head wind. Adam's shoulders being perhaps double the width of mine, I surely could have disappeared in his slip stream. Of course, it's also easier to pass the time talking when you're riding side-by-side.

There were two riders that passed Adam and me several times. They were riding very high-end racing machines, drafting behind one another, and were travelling several miles per hour faster than us, but they took longer and more frequent breaks than us. Although during the last 20 to 30 miles we had pushed our speed up (with the help of a tail wind) and were traveling at 21 to 23 mph most of the time, these two guys passed us with about 15 miles to go. Adam was sure that meant they would finish ahead of us, and I could tell he had hoped they wouldn't, but then a few miles later, to our surprise, we passed them again - they were at the side of the road fixing a flat. At this point we also began to realize we had the potential to finish prior to 4 p.m., so we continued to push as hard as we could toward the finish. We were not sure exactly how far we had to go because my computer was reading about 7 miles fewer than the map and cue sheet indicated. Adam's computer had quit early in the ride. In the end, it turned out that my computer was right, but the cue sheet mileage had not been updated following some minor alterations that shortened this year's route to 145 miles.

Adam had been complaining of discomfort in his seat since early in the ride. I guess with his weight or maybe some aspect of his anatomy (and that's enough of that sort of talk), he has quite a bit of trouble with saddle discomfort. I was riding a recently purchased Terry Falcon saddle, and it was very comfortable for the entire ride. I had only minimal discomfort near the end. However, my legs were beginning to hurt in those last few miles, and for a few miles in which we turned north into and across the wind, I was having trouble finding the energy within to maintain the 20+ mph pace, but somehow I did. My quads burned from fatigue, and my calves, particularly the left, were beginning to feel that familiar but hard-to-describe sort of pre-cramp feeling that indicates the end is near.

And then we were there. We cruised into Bay City State Park as numbers 9 and 10. The racers with the flat tire finished a few minutes behind us. I think all the early finishers were sort of astounded at my steel rig with it's fat tires (28 mm instead of the typical 23mm), rack and trunk bag, handlebar bag, fenders, 36-spoke wheels, shiny polished aluminum components, and complete absence of carbon-fiber. Nobody said anything. Obviously, my setup worked quite well, fast and comfortable.

A bicycle computer keeps track of average pace, but only while the bike is moving, so the average pace reflects distance per time while the wheels are turning, and is always less than the cruising speed you think you're maintaining during the ride. Our average pace in the morning was barely 17 miles per hour, but due to the flatter route and some additional tail wind in the afternoon, our overall pace increased to 17.5 miles per hour for the entire ride. That's 8 hours and 18 minutes riding time. Since we started at 6:20 a.m. and finished at about 3:45, we must have spent just over an hour at stops for water and lunch. That was a probably two hours faster than I'd plan to finish the ride at my comfortable touring pace. It's difficult for me to resist the opportunity to ride hard.

After the ride, at the LMB tent at the end, each rider was photographed with his or her bicycle, and there were some yummy cupcakes waiting to be eaten. I got to the end before Cindy, Sharon, and the kids arrived, so I had plenty of time to rest in the park by the bay at a picnic table in the shade of a big oak tree with my Soma by my side.

Stats:
145 miles
8.3 hours in the saddle
17.5 miles per hour average riding pace
9.5 hours total time
15.3 miles per hour based on total time, start to end

Calories and fluids:
6 bottles water with GU20 mix
2 bottles water with no mix
4 packs of GU; 2 caffeinated, 2 non-caffeinated
4 Clif Mojo Bars
1 turkey sandwich
1 banana and a bunch of grapes
2 peanut butter cookies

Next year? Will I do it next year? Maybe. The hard part is getting ready for a ride like this. Doing it is easy. Training just takes a little more time on the bicycle than I feel is reasonable, given my family, career, and home-repair commitments. But I do enjoy it. If I do it again, I'll consider taking the Velo City Cycles support. It would mean Cindy and the kids wouldn't have to drive across the state to start and end with me. And my hefty steel bike? Well, if I did it with Velo City Cycles, I could drop quite a lot of the extra gear. Don't expect to find me riding a plastic bike with 23c tires, but it would be fun to rig up something just a little speedier. Maybe a Soma Smoothie ES? A Gunnar Sport? I'd like to build up on of these bikes with a speedy wheelset and a compact double - maybe even some of those Ultegra STI shifters to make riding a pace line a little easier. It's always fun to dream. Who knows, maybe I'd even consider one of those carbon-fiber machines, but it seems unlikely.