Saturday, August 18, 2018

My welcome to Ireland
Míle Fáilte 2018

Míle Fáilte translates from Irish into a "thousand welcomes."  It might as well mean a million welcomes! The Irish are the most welcoming people that I've ever encountered but we weren't there for a thousand welcomes, we were there for even more. We were there for 1,200 welcoming kilometers of Irish southwest countryside or should I say 1236 to be precise.  When things were going well we were enjoying the 2018 Míle Fáilte.  When we were suffering it was simply the MF1200.

2018 full course 1,236 km 11,205 m / 768miles 36,753'


Every ride has its challenges. We knew about the hills from the course profile and we had heard about the rough road surfaces and the midge swarms but there was no thought given to dealing with record high temperatures.  They hardly sell sunscreen in Ireland.  The Irish claim to have thrown out more sunscreen than they've ever used.  My arms are still peeling.

This was the second running of the Míle Fáilte. The route was slightly altered from the 2014 version so that each day was a loop (theoretically) returning to a common overnight in Killarney. The inaugural edition was blessed with 4 rain free days. The 2018 MF topped that by taking place during a heatwave/drought and also was rain free. If this event takes place again, prepare for rain because they are sorely overdue. At the pre-ride dinner we discussed whether Day 2 or Day 3 would be more difficult. On paper Day 2 looked a wee bit harder but Day 3 was scheduled for immediately after Day 2 so in the end it won. The first 3 days were ambitious at 382k, 372k and 358k with 3,048, 3,748, 3,681 m of climbing. The last day was an “easy” roll through the inland county side and only 123k with just over 1,000m of elevation gain. For the record, there was nothing easy about this ride.  For the more Imperial inclined of you the event totals were 768 miles with 36,753' of climbing.



Bike building and Guinness
Leigh "Rock Star" Paterson


Post pre-ride meeting meeting l to r Simon Maddison, Greg Smith, Eric Peterson, Vinny and Ricky

The entry fee of €295 included 5 nights of lodging, all meals during the event, a tee shirt and the most glorious finishing medal that ever hung from a rando's sunburnt neck. The control food was more than expected with hot meals at most controls. Lasagna, rice with curry, shepherds pie, ice cream and rice pudding were common offerings. Sandwiches and small candy bars could be taken in pockets from controls but there were plentiful gas stations along the route and most offered a sandwich/hot food bar. I particularly enjoyed the breakfast rolls which traveled well in a jersey pocket. Pubs filled water bottles no bother. Past midnight most options for refueling were closed so we carried snacks accordingly.

The sendoff with highly reflective Sarah!

The second control of Day one was simply listed as “Father Ted’s.” At first I thought we would be stopping into a friendly country priest’s farm kitchen for tea and a crumpet but it turns out that it was a house on the edge of the Burren that served as the ostensible home of a popular tv show character by the same name. We certainly were looking forward to reaching that control and escaping the unrelenting sun but had no idea what we were in for. As we arrived at the driveway our progress was halted by a gaggle of nuns! While they were in habits and dark navy dresses, my Catholic school upbringing sensed something amiss.  Perhaps it was the average age of 25. Maybe it was the short skirts. Surely it was the bottles of hard cider that they carried. Turns out it was a “hen party” or as we would say, a bachelorette party. Anyway the nuns were having quite a time and it was a surreal welcoming to a unique location. Inside we found tea and homemade hot scones with butter and jam. We also found Heather and Damon Peacock who had decided to pop over to film the Mile Failte and share in on the glorious weather. Damon even shot drone footage over the house in an attempt to mirror the opening credits of the program.

Father Ted's
Welcome to Father Ted's #nunsonthebus


Feel the Burren
We finished day 1 later than we had planned but early enough that we were still able to secure a Guinness on tap.  It was the only day that we would finish during publican open hours.  We washed the Guinness down with reheated frozen pizzas. Ricky's reaction to the cardboard like pizza has added one more to Ireland's 40 shades of green.  I fell asleep to the retching sounds emanating from the bathroom. #thatsrando


We retreated into the Ross pub out of the midday sun of a very challenging day 2. I was teetering on the edge of a sour stomach and thought a beer might do me well but It would be a very long night and I preferred something non-alcoholic. I inquired to the well seasoned pub master. Did they have any non-alcoholic beer? “Hang the witch!”, may have been his response but instead he belittled me with, “Does this look like a pub that would serve non-alcoholic beer!?” I surveyed the patrons seated at the bar. Some of them may have well been shackled to their chairs. I conceded the point. This did not look like a pub that would serve non-alcoholic beer. I retired to a bench outside and settled for a glass of Guinness with Ricky. Inside we could hear Vinny laughing with the locals as they broke into song.

Fresh from pub singalong at Ross Pub, Vinny day 2

Loads of coastal riding, Vinny and Ricky enjoy the temporary shade


During the pre-ride meeting the section along the northern shore of the Beara Peninsula on day 2 was highlighted as scenery that would be particularly spectacular. We wound up riding it in the dark and to those who say, “It’s a shame that you didn’t see it in the day”, I say, “it’s a shame that you didn’t see it at night!” We crossed the ridge of the peninsula under a crystal clear sky and a moon so bright that lights were barely required at 1:00am. We then made our way along the northern edge of the peninsula into sleeping Kenmare. We climbed up and over Molls Gap and were met with a surrealist sky of layered red, purple and pink. In addition to the psychedelic light show in the sky we were rewarded with a 20k decent down into Killarney. We were told there would be sheep on the road and there were. There were also deer, mountain goats and fox. It was a veritable wildlife slalom course into the overnight.  I use the term "overnight" loosely in this description since our arrival at 6am more coincided with breakfast.  We slept for a few hours, ate a late breakfast and got rolling just before 11am for a planned 358k day 3.  We knew we wouldn't see Killarney again this day. As Mike Tyson concisely put it, "Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth!" Day 2 had punched us in the mouth.

Molls Gap, 4:15am reward, #nofilter


Day 3 had looked every bit as challenging as day 2 on paper.  When we rolled out into the heat we had no plan other than ride until we couldn't, and then sleep.  The first order of business was to re-climb Molls Gap!  Did I read that right? Yes I did!  We were about to climb back up that 20k decent from a few hours ago.  This is the first time that I desired to discuss the course with the design team.

Molls Gap retour, this time in the day light from the Killarney side with Brian McCool


We made it up and over and then rode the Ring of Kerry counterclockwise.  By the time we were heading out onto the Dingle Peninsula, the sun had begun the long process of setting.  The sky once again turned orange and red and purple as we made our way out to Dingle.  We did not stop at the control when we first arrived since there was still the business of Slea Head.

The prolonged Dingle sunset #nofilter



"Cozy" was not the first word that came to mind as we entered the Dingle control in the wee hours of day 3. Overheard fluorescent lighting, the muggy scent of ripe Randonneurs and a chorus of snores being sung in the round. Ricky and his 100,000k of experience made the call of the ride, sleep outside! We drug blow up mattresses and blankets outside and into a darkened corner overlooking Dingle harbor. Cool breezes and the sounds of dock workers are the last two things that I remember before sinking into deep sleep. It’s one of those moments that I’ll never forget.

Ricky climbs Conor Pass for day 4 breakfast



The first order of business on the final day was climb Conor Pass for breakfast.  It was a peaceful 6.6 km climbing 406 meter at 5am rising straight up from Dingle.  It was great to see Brain McCool coming down from the top back into Dingle if not a bit surprising since he had told me last night at the control that he was packing it in due to Shermer's neck.  Still he decided to climb Conor Pass for his encore! #thatsrando We met Damon at the top and he was playing with his drone capturing our initial decent. Damon's MF 1200 video I really enjoy Damon's videos.  We made it off the peninsula and through Tralee taking a brief roadside nap before reaching Knocknagoshel, final control before our delayed return to Killarney.

Too bad this photo doesn't have audio zzzzzzzzzzz
Never stand when you can sit, never sit when you can lie down.  1064/1236 k

Just before leaving Knocknagoshel, Paul reminds us that the
hardest climb of the ride is in our very near future!

Paul's climb! As Spencer says, "you always have the 24" gear"


We limped back into Killarney wilting under the midday sun.  Ricky had another brilliant idea.  Let's eat wings, seafood chowder and then take a two hour nap before heading out to put this big fish into the boat.  I mean we had a 124k left and 11 hours to complete that.  What was the rush anyway.  Eat, sleep and then ride later in the cooler evening temperatures.  I was an easy convert to the Ricky modification of day 4.

We headed out for our final 124 k as what had been billed as a relatively easy section of the course.  I was however warned that that wasn't actually an accurate description.  I remembered that warning as we climbed a section of 18% narrow lane.  It was the second time that I wished I could discuss the course with the designer. We were cooked.  This was like beating a dead horse, except Ricky was anything but dead.  I couldn't hold his wheel.  I'm not sure if it was the wings, the nap or one of his many remedy concoctions.  Whatever it was I finally caught him at a gas station and begged him to slow down as I ate my dripping ice cream cone. He did just that.  Staying with the melting ice cream theme we pulled into the penultimate control and found out that their power was off and they were really pushing the ice cream.  We accepted.  Mercifully the course did become more friendly as we headed in for the home stretch.

Putting the fish in the boat
And, we're in! Let the celebration begin!! #number1


Liveliest of medal ceremonies despite the hour as only the Irish can do it! Our favorite control worker Paul O'Donoghue presents Ricky with his well deserved MF medal!

The Míle Fáilte is a fabulous event filled with friendly faces and spectacular scenery.  My sincerest thank you to all the many volunteers that worked tirelessly and with a smile to keep us going. The road surfaces, changing conditions and climbing make it harder than your average bear.  Of course as our good buddy Mark Thomas says, "the last ride that you did is always your hardest!"  The route uses a large portion of the Wild Atlantic Way, 2100k of Irish coastline roads from Kinsale to Malin Head.  The next Wild Atlantic Way Audax will be run in 2020 just in case 1200k isn't enough for you. WAWA2020  Having completed the MF 1200 the WAWA route frightens me, but in a inquisitive kind of way! #thatsrando

Perhaps we'll see you on the road in 2020. #randonesia


During the many hours that I had to rumble around in my mind along the MF1200 it occurred to me that the ride had an overall theme.  The theme was a mathematical ratio.  The event followed the 80/20 rule.  Some examples for you below.


80% Irish riders, 20% other
80% climbing, 20% descending
80% crap road surfaces, 20% perfectly smooth
80% spectacular scenery, 20% transfer stage
80% midges, 20% horse flies
80% Guinness , 20% other
80% lies, 20% kinda true

D1 380k 19:52hrs 3672M avg 22.8k/hr 6:00am-1:50am

D2 372k 23:36hrs 3932M avg 19.5k/hr 6:30am-6:06am

D3 236k 15:18hrs 2375M avg 19.5k/hr 10:50am-2:10am

D4p1 122k 9:24hrs 1475M avg 16.8k/hr 5:00am-2:24pm

D4p2 124k 7:06hrs 1172M avg 20k/hr 5:00pm-1:15am 


Tuesday, June 12, 2018

Return to the Nebraska Sandhills 1000k









A few days before the start of the Sandhills 1000k I checked my iPhone weather for Broken Bow Nebraska. The start day would be hot, near 90. The finish day would be cooler. The middle day was forecast for wind. That’s it. Just a wind symbol. If you ever ride in Nebraska and see that symbol, watch out. 
That's Rando! photo, Denise Giffin


This was the second edition of the Nebraska Sandhills 1000k. I rode the first edition in 2016 and loved it so much that I blogged about the ride and then that was picked up for a story in American Randonneur. The publicity did not translate to oversubscription. 8 riders attended the 2016 ride and 7 toed the line for 2018. The veterans included myself, the RBA host, Spencer Klaassen and homegrown cornhusker Rodney Geisert. The always popular Rick Blacker flew in from Olympia WA. Brian Feinberg from SFR came based on a suggestion from Robert Sexton who had thoroughly enjoyed the 2016 edition. Bill Giffin took a break from his nearby farm in Kearney NE to tackle his first 1000k. Completing the field was newly minted Super Randonneur Anda Arms who drove up from Manhattan....Kansas. 
The sun comes up on the roll out from Broken Bow

I rode with a gps but you could easily stay on course with a single note card of turns. The first turn ito a different road comes at 49.4 miles and other stretches without a turn include 109.8,  and an unbelievable 161 miles heading west on US-20 between Valentine and Crawford.  More important than a gps is a phone with a radar app and a wind app. Not that you can change the wind but you might plan your stops accordingly. Radar can help track storms vs. course track also to plan or modify stops. In 2016 we holed up at controls for several hours twice. This year we never had to prolong a control stop to avoid a storm. We did see the Storm Tracker vans heading to Valentine on Day one but that was after we cleared through. They would be covering the big storms the following day!
L to R, Bill Giffin, Rod Geisert, Spencer Klaassen, Brian Feinberg, Anda Arms and Rick Blacker.
It’s called the Sandhills for a reason people. This part of Nebraska is NOT flat. The climbs are more gentle traveling east and west and a bit steeper heading north and south. Even though the course constantly rolls, the ride is not about elevation gain. It is about air. More specifically, moving air, or as you may know it, wind. To give a small example of how the wind can affect the ride consider a comparison of the first days from 2016 and 2018. In 2016 we caught a prolonged headwind as we traveled south to north. We also waited out a storm for a couple of hours. Bottom line, we got to the sleep control around 3 am. This year we had a tailwind pushing us to the north, no storms and barely turned on our lights, arriving at 9 pm. The sleep control was 20 miles shorter in 2018 but still we’re talking about a 6 hour swing. 
Cyclist preacher makes a u-turn to talk to some weird looking bikers.  After hearing the distances we are covering he calls ahead 30 miles for his fried to come down and meet us at our lunch stop.  His friend meets us 2 hours later and we discuss what else, riding bikes in Nebraska!

Heading south to north day 1.  Ricky leads us into the heart of the Sandhills.
Our early arrival into the first overnight riled up the wind gods. When I checked the Valentine weather upon waking for Day 2 the report sounded like a page out of the Old Testament. Dangerous winds, damaging hail, lightening and of course Tornadoes. I was a bit concerned but Spencer assured me that those storms were behind us. Still we would be dealing with some stiff wind. Generally we would be heading west for 115 miles. Generally, the wind would be cross or head for those miles and would be strong. In North Carolina it is almost always calm at dawn but in Nebraska the wind wakes up with the farmers.  We stepped into the darkness of day 2 and pointed our bikes West on US-20.  The wind nearly knocked us over.  For the next 12 hours we would work to achieve that left hand turn out of the wind. It was a long grind.It was the kind of day where the wind was hitting our front left shoulder to start, but then swung directly out of the west to knock us backward.  By the time the road swung slightly to the north guess where the wind shifted to.  That's correct, from the northwest.  At least when you are climbing a big mountain they don't move the top.  The wind can really work on you mentally.  What can you do?  Downshift, tuck in behind Spencer and hold your line.  Don't watch your speed and don't watch the odometer.  Either could drive one insane.
Despite the ominous clouds we picked our way through the storms.
Never miss a chance of an iconic shot in the Sandhills!

The sun sets on day 2 heading into Alliance.  My kind of rolling coal!
Rod and Denise at the finish!
At this point I'd like to introduce you to our guardian angel and roving support, Denise Giffin.  Denise was everywhere, and that's saying something on a 1,000k loop course in Nebraska! She was there because her husband Bill was riding but she took care of each and everyone of us like we were family.  Spencer and Rod were planning to trade off driving support and riding permanents which Spencer had planned between the start, overnight controls and the finish.  Then Heaven sent Denise and Spencer and Rod were able to enjoy the full monty with us.  The idea for available segmental brevets along the route came from down under during one of Spencer and Rod's many visits to Australia.  If someone DNFs on day 1 then they can still ride day 2 and 3 for credit.  I think it is a genius idea! Spencer planned a 300k brevet for the first day that finished at the overnight.  The second short brevet was 200k which connected the overnight locations.  The third day a 250k brevet was available from second overnight to the finish line.


Do not come to this ride expecting to ride through fields of corn.  This is cattle country and the rolling grasslands are dotted with black angus.  So are the menus.  We lived on burgers. Really good ones.  Denise even had burgers waiting for us at each of the overnight controls since there were no open restaurants upon our arrival.  Did I mention that she was an Angel?
Large ice sock.  Dewey for scale.

We had no significant rain but did contend with some above 90º temperatures.  The hot weather veteran of the group, Rick Blacker passed out tube socks at the ride start, and they saw substantial use.  Dewey ice socks? Yes we do! Ice socks were de rigueur on day 1 and 2. The peloton looked like a bunch of middle linebackers.

The nighttime section between Alliance and Hyannis is a real highlight.  The star filled sky is mesmerizing and stretches from horizon to horizon.  Once again we saw more trains than cars and let me tell you, a train whistle less than 100 yrds away does wonders for the sleepy randonneur.  This section also passes many small lakes and the rising moon danced off the water as the finally realized tailwind pushed us into the overnight at the Ranchland Motel.  The ice socks from earlier in the day were a distant memory as the temperature fell into the low 40s.  By the time we arrived at the Ranchland Motel we were fully layered with the entire clothing contents of our bags.
Day 3 featured a heavenly tailwind!

On day 3 the wind gods misread our cue sheets and wound up pushing us back to Broken Bow with much vigor.  We sat upright and pedaled uphill sometimes over 20 mph!  It was quite a day.  151 miles of smiles. We rolled into Arthur and visited North America's oldest straw bale church, then cruised by the smallest courthouse in the US.  We were 40 minutes early for the Bunkhouse Saloon but decided to wait for it to open.  Ricky worked some magic and we scooted in at 10:30 just ahead of the other "bikers."  With burgers in our bellies we hoisted the mizzenmast and set sail for Broken Bow. 
All bikers welcome at the Bunkhouse.
 

We all arrived in a fairly tight window around dusk to the crowd of one, Denise!  Everyone agreed that the Sandhills 1000k was a resounding success.  After the 2016 edition I encouraged riders from around the country to give Nebraska a try.  It's not what you are expecting.  I live in North Carolina and twice now I have travelled nearly across the country to ride in this paradise.  That should tell you something.  If the Nebraska Randonneurs decide to have a third event consider joining us there.  See how I said us, because I'd hate to miss it!  Special thanks to Denise Giffin for support above and beyond the call of duty and to Spencer Klaassen for planning and organizing another stellar event showcasing the Sandhills of Nebraska.  Merci!
151 miles of smiles day 3.

Just when you thought he was asleep, double barrel salute! At least one rider looks fresh!

Danger in Dingé

Here lies the tall tale of a randonneur and a calcule as it appeared in the American Randonneur edited and introduced by Mike Dayton who was...