September
69, 2022
Dear Family and Friends,
I hope you had a nice Labor Day weekend. Oh really? Maybe you can draw me a diagram of how that happened and send to me?
Mine was great, thanks for asking! My friend Rich had once again coerced talked me into going up to Spearfish, SD to participate in the Dakota Five-O, which is a mountain bike race/ride/tour, but I’d say mostly a race/ride because on a tour you can kind of meander about and take photos, etc. Although these things are possible on the D-5-O, they would not really work with someone like me (i.e., someone who is slow but appreciates the aid stations and camaraderie). Although I can’t recall for sure, I think my experience this year was even better than my first D-5-O back in 2009, and I’m pretty sure no one’s gonna argue with me about that.
For those who may not be familiar with the D-5-O, let me give you a brief summary:
1. It’s a 50-mile course (and rockier than I remember)
2. More than 6,500 feet of climbing
3. About 90% singletrack
4. Spearfish, SD (it is a beautiful area and quite amenable to experiencing via mountain bike, and this ride in particular)
Here is a photo of Rich and I before our designated 7:40 a.m. start.
So that is the summary, a more detailed report follows for those that are interested. Also, these “details” are as I remember them, which may or may not be quite right since things got a little hazy once in a while out there on the hot, dusty trail.
Rich and I got into Spearfish on Friday evening and set up camp at the Spearfish City Park Campground, which was crowded. We pitched our tent on the ice rink, which was close to Steve and Barb’s campsite. Since there are no fire rings in the ice rink, Steve and Barb shared their fire with us and we visited a while and rocked out with their Bluetooth stereo thing. Then we shuffled off to get some rest.
Saturday a.m. we decided to pre-ride some of the course. We got some general directions for a technical section and drove up to the Big Hill Trailhead. After the actual D-5-O, we discovered that the Tinton Trail downhill from this trailhead is a good technical section, but the stretch from Big Hill Trailhead to Cardiac climb is not technical, but does offer some great bovine viewing opportunities.
We also didn’t really know exactly where we were going so we ended up staying out a bit longer than I was planning (about 2 hours and 14 miles total, which is about twice what I was hoping for, but who’s keeping score?). We did get a taste of the Cardiac Bypass climb, which was a nice workout. Once back at camp, we relaxed and went out to Nonna’s Kitchen for dinner, which was quite good. I had the Crazy Green Spaghetti (pesto sauce) and if I get that next time I think I’ll add the shrimp.
Sunday a.m. – day of the ride! I had been looking forward to this! Prep included the following:
1. Chamois Butt'r: I forgot mine but luckily Rich did not
2. We agreed that we each should probably have an extra bottle for water but we also agreed that we could probably just leave ‘em empty until the first aid station. That way we wouldn’t need to carry the extra water weight on the climb and we figured we wouldn’t need that much water for the first part since the temps wouldn’t be that high (forecast high of 100 degrees WT[F]).
3. I packed up a few expired caffeine/B vitamin capsules I’d received at some other organized bike ride, 3 gel packs (only one expired), and a Clif bar.
4. A Camelbak full of ice water.
5. A lot of sunscreen (50 SPF).
6. Breakfast was a large Rice Krispee bar, a Kind peanut butter breakfast bar and a clementine
7. I knew the climb up to the trail was pretty tough, so I decided to start with 60 psi in my Hutchinson Pythons. I think Rich thought I was joking, but I wasn’t. This may have contributed to flat #1? Anyway, I intended to relieve some of that pressure as soon as it was convenient, but certainly no later than Aid Station 1.
There are waves of riders based on estimated speed. Rich and I were in the last wave, so our start time was 7:40 a.m. The group wasn’t as large as I thought it would be, maybe 60 people or so? We had all estimated our time to complete at more than 8 hours. I think there were 4 or 5 waves before us. We exchanged some genial conversation and then, with a brief pep talk and an air horn, we were led out by a gregarious fellow on a 4-wheeler. They had some intersections blocked off for us as we climbed on a few paved roads, then a few hard-packed gravel, and then onto the singletrack of Tinton Trail– a silty soil with rocks more or less common in various sections. After testing the limits of my modest finesse, I heard a loud pop and realized I’d be fixing a flat. I don’t recall having such a dramatic flat in my bicycling history, so I expected a pretty big hole in the tube, but it really wasn’t too bad. And that was good, because the spare tube I had in my behind-the-saddle bag was recommended for 1.25 – 1.75” and my tyres were 2.0” wide. I am pretty sure this combination would work under most circumstances, but based on the sharp rocks and long trail ahead I didn’t think having the rubber stretched that thin would be prudent. So I patched with ye olde Park Tool patch kit and pumped with my mini-pump up to around 25 psi or so (it’s kind of hard to get a lot of pressure injected with the mini pump) and figured I’d add some more at the first Aid Station. There were some good climbs and plenty of rocky sections to keep me focused for the next 4 miles or so before we made it up to the Big Hill Trailhead where Rich and I had started yesterday. Although the tyre seemed to fold just a bit around tight corners the low pressure otherwise seemed fine, although I did try to pay a little more attention to avoiding jagged rocks when possible. It was only a mile or 2 in from the BHT that we came to the first Aid Station (Big Hill, 10 miles from start). This stop was excellent. They had the following aspects of greatness:
1. a tyre pump
2. loud music that included Beastie Boys and Metallica
3. pickle slices and/or pickle juice in little Dixie cups
4. water and Gatorade (or similar)
5. helpful people with big hair (or possibly wigs, it’s all kind of hard to visualize at this point)
I heard some talk at this stop about a cut off time of 1:30 and I thought they said we had to be at the Ball Field by then, but that didn’t really mean much to me since I’d done a poor job of looking over the course beforehand and the location of the Ball Field to me was a complete mystery to me. The way it was said also seemed like someone might be “pulling my leg” or, since there were multiple listeners, “pulling our legs.” I felt good and there were plenty of other mountainous bicyclers nearby, so I figured we’d be fine. I gulped down my expired caffeine/vitamin tablets, plenty of pickles, and a banana and was on my way.
The next part of the ride started with a relatively smooth, flowy, mostly downhill section to a junction where an unofficial aid station was present. Prior to reaching the unofficial aid station, I hazily recall meeting a gregarious family out for a 4-wheeling venture. They kicked up a lot of dust and were kind of slow and unpassable because we were on a narrow section of trail where they were kind of over-sized for around 4 or 5 minutes (I think, although it felt like 15!). Eventually they must have noticed us because they got off to the side and apologized. I smiled brightly and said, “No problem!” in order to promote harmony amongst all trail users. Once I got to the unofficial aid station it didn’t seem that far from the 1st Official Aid Station so I didn’t get a water refill. I did chat with one of the attendants since he stated, “I think that’s the oldest Schwinn I’ve seen today!” I figured it probably was, since my trusty steed was born back in 1995 and had already experienced one D-5-O back in ’09.
Since then, not much had changed on ol’ Shifty, I got a new-to-me Rock Shox suspension seatpost a while back to replace my old U.S.E. seatpost and I, unwisely, replaced the chain (Shimano) and cassette (Sram) and the two weren’t getting along as well as I had hoped they would. I should have believed the guy at the Bike Rack (aka Trek Store-Omaha West) who stated that the 2 brands didn’t always play well together. The Cardiac Climb was rather long, but actually kind of fun, featuring winding trails with a few flatter areas for resting. I got behind a guy going about my speed and he kept picking good lines for easy climbing, so I expressed my appreciation by stating, “I like the lines you’re picking.” To which he chuckled. In this way I was able to reserve my limited quantities of mental acuity for moments when it might be needed in the future. Do you know what else would be needed in the future? Water! I was dry at 10:50 a.m.! At Aid Station 1 I’d refilled with Gatorade and I hadn’t taken the bladder all the way out of the pack. In hindsight, I think I may not have had the bladder fully expanded (i.e., slightly pinched/squeezed in some area) such that I didn’t get a full refill. Whatever the cause, I wasn’t thrilled with this development, but I felt well hydrated at the time. I asked a fellow rider how long he thought it was until the next aid station and he estimated about 4 miles. It started getting warmer as we reached higher terrain with some nice overlooks and some breeze along sections of trail known as Recovery Ridge and Rimrock Trail. I was, hot, thirsty, and grateful as I rolled into the Old Baldy Aid Station (Aid Station 2, 22 miles from start) at high noon. “I love you!” I told the kindly fellow who refilled my water. I even got a nice misting from another fellow with a different hose attachment! Although I vowed to drink all 70 ounces of my Camelbak, I did not. However, I did laze around in the shade for at least ½ hour, enjoyed some music by a couple of guys that included Phish's classic "Waste", drink about ½ of the Camelbak, and enjoy a nice pasta salad provided by a kindly North Dakotan. Although it seemed daunting to eat real food at first, I had a nice bag of popcorn appetizer and the pasta was perfect! She also had a great mantra that she offered after we joked about calling it a day due to the heat, something along the lines of “Everyone must deal with pain. Pick your pain: the pain of discipline or the pain of regret.” Now that’s a good mantra. However, it’s also a bit stark, so I didn’t dwell on it much as I continued on the ride. I mostly had a Taj Mahal song stuck in my head. It was this one:
When I finally left Aid Station 2 it was approximately 12:35 and I had been informed that I had made the cut off time. I was happy to hear it and I was also not feeling any urge to hurry. From here on out any climb that looked even a little iffy would be one that I walked up. This stemmed from a few factors, including the following:
1. I had previously noticed that attempting to do seated climbs for steep sections could cause some lower back strain as I kind of hunched over in an effort to keep my weight on the front tyre. I think that is why one of the main things I remember about the D-5-O of ’09 was my sore back for several days after the event.
2. The effort of dismounting suddenly was something that could be a bit taxing physically and mentally and I didn’t need that noise.
3. It was just nice to use some different muscle groups from time to time.
To be honest, this part of the ride went by pretty fast. I may have been in a bit of a daze, but I believe things were often fast and flowy with rocks here and there. I was in the zone and loving it. I had left Shifty out in the sun and it seemed to improve my shifting, leading me to believe that perhaps my cable tension had been a bit too taut and the heat of the sun had stretched them to just the right amount of tension. I helped a fellow Omahan tighten up his cleat because he had back issues and couldn’t easily remove his shoe. Tightening the shit out of bolts makes me feel pretty damn good for some reason.
Eventually I made it to Sheep Flats where another much welcomed informal aid station was set up. There wasn’t any water left, but there was a whole lot of ice and it felt fantastic in ye olde Camelbak. I rode jauntily onward and experienced a feeling of rightness that is hard to relate yet most enjoyable to feel. I felt fast and smooth without undue effort. Before I knew it I zipped through a downhill into the Ball Field (Aid Station 3, mile 35). I don’t know why it’s called that and I don’t even have a theory. One thing about this place was that it was f-ing hot! I found some shade, ate something (maybe a banana?) got some water and grabbed a pack of these:
People at the Ball Field were deciding their fate. Yes, it was hot. Yes, there was a big-ass, 2-mile-long hill between us and the Bacon and PBR Aid Station. Yes, there was a road nearby that led back towards the many comforts of the civilized world in the form of Spearfish, SD. But the glory? Ah, the glory lay above, as did the PBR and bacon! So I set out for a short ride and then a quick dismount followed by a long walk. I settled into a comfortable pace, sipping my water and occasionally enjoying a margarita-flavored gummy. It wasn’t until a few days later after I got home that I noticed these had caffeine in addition to salts. In any case, I felt great as I arrived at the wonderful PBR and bacon stop (Aid Station 4, mile 38). The bacon was crispy, salty perfection! The PBR would have been anathema, so I avoided its siren call. There would be time enough for that type of brewhaha if and when I was back at the Spearfish City Park. I briefly chatted with a few of the members of the Hay Camp cycling team and offered the following “encouragement”: “Is it really even voluntary at this point?” Next up was the Dakota Ridge, which I had heard was “the most technical part” of the ride, but also “not too bad.” I think I can agree with both of those statements. I switched from my sunglasses to some clear safety glasses to make sure I didn’t miss the right line through the rocks. It did take some concentration and commitment to navigate a pretty challenging gauntlet of short rocky ascents and descents with some curves and some nice views that I didn’t look at very much because I had to keep my eyes on the trail. This was the new-to-me part of the route that had replaced the old Cathedral Slides – a steep sandy trail that I recall as being more like skiing than biking down some very steep descents. Apparently there had been enough crashes in the CS that the route had been altered and I’d say the Dakota Ridge was a more satisfying option anyway.
After D Ridge I was feeling very good, but also a little knackered so I found some shade along a fire road and enjoyed the rest of my Clif bar and rang my bell at the Hay Camp fellows that cycled past.
The rest of the way back on the Tinton Trail was at least as much fun on the way out. It was cooling off a bit and it felt like a downhill glide even though it is really kind of a series of rolling hills with some rocky sections. I conversed for a while with an older fellow from North Dakota who was riding at about the same pace as I. Then I heard a subtle hissing that I knew signaled another flat. It was at approximately the same spot as on the way out! What the hell!? Anyway, I sat down and patched it. There was a pretty good gash in the tyre this time so I included a paper-reinforced patch for the tyre as well as the tube.
It was actually a nice break and things cooled down even more. I got the tyre pumped back up to maybe 30 psi and proceeded onwards. Once I reached the gravel roads I felt like it was smooth sailing and I felt like a hawkman as I dove speedily back towards town. After arriving in Spearfish I climbed a short residential hill where a friendly couple clapped as I climbed and offered words of encouragement. A woman offered me a cold Gatorade and then ran alongside my bike and smilingly shoved it into my bottle holder when I tried to politely refuse since I still had quite a bit of water left. Spearfishers are awesome! It wasn’t much later before I was back at City Park. A cheering crowd was still lining the finish and I rang my bell at them in appreciation as I cycled in. Soon I was enjoying a delicious Crow Peak Pile O' Dirt Porter in addition to the ice-cold Gatorade Zero.
It was a little more than 11 hours after the start.
Although the festivities were winding down before I arrived,
it felt great to be there and I really appreciate all the people that were in any way involved in the event and Rich for talking me into getting back out there again. I felt very welcomed and at home with everyone I met and I will always remember the experience with gratitude.
Rich and I compared our dustiness.
A few takeaways/notes to self:
- Be sure to bend water bottle cage in so that it tightly holds water bottle. I lost one this time and one in 2009.
- Get some tougher tyres (and consider lower tyre pressure) to help withstand the rocks.
We had a nice dinner at Killian's and the next day we were homeward bound with plenty of good memories and some sore muscles.
D-5-O forever!
