I explain in broken and confused words (though sentences are perfectly formed in my head, so I’m not sure what’s happening between them forming and me speaking), that I’m really thirsty. If the rest of the ride is like this, on roads like this, then I am golden. This is a wonderful plateau. A cycling podcast … I really do need that water. So I load the DK200 course again, hit start, and push off with my mileage reading at zero. You. You are an artist. 2020 Garmin Dirty Kanza Virtual Camp Presented By Salsa Cycles Hell, I hate to even write anything remotely poetic here as it feels like number painting a picture of a dog next to a Picasso. “I’m not really happy with how it’s shifting,” says Collin, and I nod. I talk to Dan. Catch up with the boys. Keep up the good work. One so slow I nearly lose it, one so fast the water explodes like a watermelon dropped from a balcony on unsuspecting concrete. Jim. You are a fraud. I want to Congratulate you both for finishing. Things you tell yourself won't happen to you. Congrats! Fill the bottles with OSMO powder in preparation of the water’s arrival, and restock my nutrition. I shall make it through the next. Please ride again next year! It transported me instantly into ‘dirty old man’ mode. Most with hidden, uneven rocky bottoms to test my handling skills. How best to avoid & deal with hydration at the Dirty Kanza. For me it was the songbirds. Its appearance reminds me of summer in Australia, the smell of it, the breeze whipping up, the dark and ominous roof to the afternoon. Every year thousands of riders sit in wait for the email to drop signalling that their lottery entry has been drawn to the most renowned gravel race in the world. Workingtogether will be vital to ensure the health of our cycling community both on and off the bike.”. I set about mounting my light, and plug the portable charger into my Garmin to get the juice flowing. The name of the race has been changed after the original name was accused of being a slur towards the Kaw Nation. I’m so sick of shot bloks and salty caramel GUs (though that is the best flavor ever invented), so I pull a banana from my back pocket, peel it halfway down its body and take a hot bite. Hit the descent and power on down. That was the most fun I’ve ever had reading about a bike race (even a bike race like no other)! Save my name, email, and website in this browser for the next time I comment. Technology could never be so cruel as to rob me of the eventual Strava data that will get me my kudos and make me look badass and forever be data-evidenced that I did it. It warns me that it’s going to turn off in about 15 seconds. We are magnificent. Scoff down a couple of strips. You are a frivolous person. To say everything went to plan would be a flat out lie, but to say everything worked out would be accurate. No. Their excited chatter fills my ears as I ride off, one inquiring of the other how he managed to make me drop the bottle. Wow. Here is Dylan’s recap of the race. But that’s also not the issue. Flats happen quickly, but not to me. Is it going to disintegrate before I finish this? It’s best to prepare myself for that eventuality now. It probably would’ve happened anyway. You are stubborn. As we launch into yet another gravel season, I'd like to reflect upon one of the most memorable moments of last year, for me: the finish line of the Dirty Kanza 200 in Emporia, Kansas. To practice how calm and unflustered I will be. The serious expression on Collin’s face is a siren blaring a stern warning. What a good picture you paint with your writing. Amazing read. Siren says: If your bike is not 100% ready for the Dirty Kanza, perhaps you, ma’am, are not ready for the Dirty Kanza? The bike was an easy choice for me, as Zap loaned me a Basso Palta test bike. Their excited chatter is invigorating. Ride on. I’m supremely grateful that it’s not raining when I get to the section about 20-25 miles in that’s a bit damp and sticky. Feet pawing the ground, steam from our nostrils. I recognize the pattern of it and his helmet and a name takes flight across the drive-in screen of my brain. It didn’t matter if you were first, 10th, 100th, or 1000th. *whistles* Fortunately, Collin has given each of us a laminated version, to go along with our Garmin course if we need it. I was originally going to run my non-patented route holder on my forearm, with the special shrunken down versions of the turn-by-turn sheets I’d made, but some idiot had left those in Santa Cruz. Pushing the disappointment down, down very very deeply, I journey on. I’m close enough to the finish to know that, baring any mechanicals, I have made it. Evidently, not. Compare setups. Baseball-sized. My mouth drops open and the confusion cloud clears. This is bar none the best-written cycling story I have ever read. I rip the lid off the bottle and drink it all in one go. The water was tasty, but it’s still not enough and I’m thirsty for something cold. There’s been a squeak for a while now and the fact that I can hear it over the music I’m listening to makes me think it’s quite loud. You. “We’ll fix it,” says Dan, as he loads it onto his car. This sound has a rhythm and I can’t work out how to make it go away. 96 and st, These babies are the size of my hand. Racers have to battle rolling hills, sticky mud, 20 mph winds, and … I’m going for a ride. Water. A couple of things to note – there is no “tri” in the name and there is “dirt” in the name. This rude sensitivity will unravel your bravery sweater in a long 200-mile line of dropped stitches and too-elaborate patterns. I can’t stop. "It's not unusual for this virus or many of these types of viruses to mutate or change or have variance," said Dr. Dana Hawkinson. Riding a bicycle 200 miles on gravel is not something to be taken lightly. I believe him. You really captured the race and all of its ebbs and high points. I believe this is called assuming the death march position? I don’t feel ill from the heat, nor is there the threat of me not finishing. how about you? So, that’s what I have. I get extremely good at bombing downhill and finding good lines. “I’m trying to keep it pristine and un-used.”. Words of rhyme and prose. You. The relentless hills that continue to rise to meet you, that elusive shade that is an ever moving target. That right in front of me is the least offensive to my shoulders. It was a proud moment for us both, by the sound of it. As I roll out and to the edge of the checkpoint, the Garmin beeps and I look down. Turning pages of some invisible suffer book to get to The End. Occasionally I see people up ahead on a hill, walking their bikes in the heat up these short tests of patience. Janeen, Great piece. This guy next to me. The 2019 edition of the race will happen on June 1st. 19 San Jose State 34-13 in Arizona Bowl, Yu kidding? I gotcha!” says another, and he runs up alongside to hand me a bottle as I ride. There are portaloos here, so I dawdle on over just to kill some time. I don’t know, but I get off and spin it. Truly a great story. Well, not quite. Katrin Bridges with the Greater Topeka Partnership, which oversaw 712 Innovations, confirmed Thursday evening it closed to in-person visitors in April 2020 before shutting down for good in July. I hope to race the sun one day. It wasn’t because we had a stellar … I need to sleep I sit there for a long while. There’s so much pride rolling off his family, so much excitement, I’m pushed a little sideways by it. “And while we’re on the subject of what I’m sick of, I’m sick of looking down. There is such kindness in this question and I think, and maybe even say out loud ‘I love you right now’. But this blew me away – outstanding writing! Grind, grind, grind… To grit my teeth and go harder. It’s not quite light yet, but it’s coming soon. Each grinding hill, each loose gravel descent, each rocky shelf that pokes up to punish your tires and body and hands and head through shuddering force you feel right to the back of your eyeballs, is a sermon from the unforgiving and pristine pulpit of this world. That they’re possessed by a spirit that makes them invincible. Many looks of ‘oh, so you’re the one that delivered the stench of Satan’s fish tank to our place of work.’ I laugh it off in a casual way, but am sheepishly ashamed. And with me and not. Some corners are loose. You. I have to believe. Two hundred miles of rolling hills, 91°F (33°C) of sun beating down on your back and a finishing time of 11:39:18 is a long day in the saddle. But we can only be what we can be so let’s be that. People begin to call out to me and I can see the lights of the finish up ahead. Our fears. I agree with other commenters that this might be the best race report I’ve ever read. I love bikes, but I treat bikes badly. “Just try not to use the little ring,” Dan says. I make it through this one. The Langster has shown me a text from Dan telling me of this strange development; so I know it’s already caused a…stink. My face on a trading card. Staunch against a mean old road. He is smiling at me. I think I’m going to cry. You are a fraud. But there’s no coke and I’m a little bummed. I love all the details you remembered, I wish my memory was that good. Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window), Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window), Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window), Where did the time go today?! Headed to confessional now…. Made me cry and then get out on my bike. Others are gathered around, along with what I assume is medical help. Downhill, uphill. You. Unfortunately, multiple mechanical problems in 2016 forced him to drop early. I’ve opted for three water bottles (one in my jersey pocket), a saddlebag with tubes and flat fixing paraphernalia, and a handlebar feed bag, and that’s it. This writeup is about a thousand times better than anything previously published in the DK magazine. I’ve been riding rando for almost 20 years, including a couple of 1200’s. Mile by mile by mile. On the road ahead, some boys this time, set up with a cooler by the roadside. Learn how your comment data is processed. You are a fleck of useless lint in the bellybutton of this magnificent landscape. Should be five minutes.”. She is going to do it, she is going to beat the sun, of that I have no doubt. Onto a road that looks as though they’ve thrown a blade on the front of a vehicle and given it a bit of a hit to tidy it up a smidge. Consider this a warning. “What color are you?” asks a lady in a lawn chair. This is just a unique circumstance.". The pain is like a shitty echo into a canyon. So inspiring!! “Stay toward the right-side, it’s easier,” says a man standing in the creek and I think how it would’ve been nice if he’d said that before I’d veered over here. Congrats on your ride and thank you for the inspiration this gives me. No… why do you ask? I’ve been thinking about this for a while. One of my biggest fears was that it would rain. You can’t control that. Dirty Kanza 2020 has be rescheduled to September 10-13, 2020. He leans into my field of view again—he’s already hand delivered a fresh bottle of water—and asks if I need anything else. I’m guessing the Cokes at the end were the “Real Thing”. Very. Not so sticky that it’s non-negotiable, but it’s blacker dirt and slippery in places and I’m grateful that the groups have thinned and I’m basically free to choose good lines and not endanger anyone. And that, dear readers, is how end I up with the luckiest good luck charm, awesome omen bike in the 2014 Dirty Kanza 200. A moth on a light bulb. You. Sketchy behavior happens often, and tires wash out and people handle their shit and some looks are exchanged and insanity and crazy and get on a good wheel and just pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. With only 600 starters, Dirty Kanza organizers let you self select how you line up. “I’ll swap you,” I say, and I throw it to the ground near them. I’m not going to be sucked into riding that fast. Eh, I think. I’ve read your work before but you are getting so good. But I am desperate for it now. How’s that grab ya? Things you might not plan for. It’s as though my mind reviewed all the notes in my brain and picked the one that sounded most like ‘you crazy’. I tell her it’s the support crew for hire. Great report. I felt I was right there with you. I particularly liked, “Now I’m just doing it. They’d been the useless extremities I’d been worried about. That data. A filthy, grimy, grunting mess of sunburn and sweat. Because I am lucky. Up again. We are two days from the Kanza. Legs flinging, knees bent, your thoughts less perfect with each rotation. Opening my bag, I find my beef jerky. The ride is cut short and we turn away from the threat. This was wonderful. Next day, and adjustments are made to the Crux. The mileage that Dirty Kanza encompasses requires a grand plan on many levels beyond just pedaling the bike. Shrug. No more head-held-high rider. I live near Lawrence, Kansas and have biked the Flint Hills many times, but I’m not interested in the DK200! I’m not going to beat my goal. At one point, I have to ride on a barely-there trail through some grass to work my way around a culvert that’s washed away. Alone with our thoughts. This is not news. It flows fast and cold and it’s not too long before I’m back out on the road. I am soaked instantly. But I did pass a guy taking that route. Those kids you talked about were my daughter and her group of friends! Dirty Kanza: I think of demons Somewhere in Kansas: now My legs aired their grievance. Das Rennen, auch als Gravel Grinder[1] bezeichnet, wird auf einer Strecke von 200 Meilen fast ausschließlich auf Schotterwegen und Pfaden ausgetragen. Thanks for what you wrote. Reach down and put the chain on. It’s a glorious moment of camaraderie and joy and thankfulness that would be expressed more eloquently had my brain been working. There is conversation and no conversation. Thanks for, I was so damn excited to ride with someone that I, Look at this firecracker of a lady! Dark camelbak-ed specks on whitish gravel climbs, pushing and toiling their way along. I have the luck with the good omen tires and the chainrings and such. Hanging my heels off the end of the mattress. In the back of my mind a thought is waving its hand. Finally I got to the bridge where last year we had stopped to help a guy who had fallen. The wind can push you in any direction it wants, the road can be there and not there and good and bad on a whim. Awesome story. I reach into the bag for my secret snickers stash and am greeted by a small bag of liquid that suggests the peanuts and chocolate are having quite an intimate little bath together in the heat. With seven miles to go, I cave and gulp the whole lot with the sincere hope that they’re not out of water at the next check point. Emporia will host the UNBOUND Gravel in 2021. It has a volcanic heat to it and an ache that radiates from my little piggy toe to wrap across and under to where it meets the pedal. To not overreact. I leave it in the bag. Thoughts are just not traveling down the speaking track, so I grunt an acknowledgment that may have been a word and just grumble up the hill. I lose the first 150 miles of the Dirty Kanza forever. My … As delicate as a first-time playwright about to open the arts section and reveal that first review. I have said it and so it shall be. The morning is cool. Third leg was toughest for me. Angels. The water shows up. Just keeps hello-ello-ello-lo-lo-lo-ing for as long as I keep pedal-edal-edal-dall-ing. All these riders, passing and dropping back, shoaling and swarming and disappearing in mirages of dust and gravel are of the real, of the true, of the belonging out here. © 1998 - 2020 Nexstar Inc. | All Rights Reserved. - I’m almost out of hydration again and I tell myself that it’s probably ok. The theatre screen laid out a few feet in front of my bike is playing a shitty movie and I want to throw popcorn at the screen and yell ‘booooo!’ I’m sick of looking down. These are the words that leave my mouth. My hands. It’s not really a daily blog – just a place to keep stuff I’ve written. A Chamois Butt’r rider passes and turns and says something that I don’t hear through my music. There is no place like home. The rejuvenator, the instiller of life, the bold, the true. Can that be defined as gravel? I had read about the year with the rain and the glue road and it freaked me out. Couldn’t mak, I thought the sea would make some pattern k, © 2021 No Direction Known | Designed & Developed by. This is all luck. This ride is a ride.(period). He bought 6 cases of water. I seem to have a hall pass, even if my energy is fading rather fast. The glow of the golden hour makes even me look good and I take some photos as I ride. There is no Support Crew for Hire down here. They will discover your ruse shortly and then it will be over. It is a devastating moment, and I stare blankly at the nub of what’s left in my hand. Look at you. And it’s going to save you. Thanks for sharing. May 31 was also my 15th birthday and party I invited some of my friends. He deserves most of the credit. I’ve thought of you every time I’ve gone out to train. You just decided how long you thought it would take you, and you lined up. Anticipation. Firmly. In 15 hours I will be right back here at the start, rolling across the finish line having done my best, ridden my hardest, and been the best version of me that I can be. Because I’m going to need to drink immediately. When I emerge and can breathe again, there’s still no sign of the water. The event has now so much notoriety that it attracts cycling legends such as Jens Voigt and Sven Nys to take the start line. Smiling here and remembering my previous trips over some of that gravel…remembering why I enjoyed that humid and hilly lunch ride…remembering…and smiling. From time-to-time they power ahead to test their legs and I happily hang back. Carpe viam Sabulum! The process to complete the Dirty Kanza 200 started the day that I knew I was officially in. Well, it seems to just be a noise. You flinch and flounder, a fish on the dock. 2 Dirty Kanza is a non-stop, self-supported, bicycle … I shoulder the fish bike and begin to pick my way across, though I can’t see anything beneath my feet to indicate if this is just a rock bed or cement-y. Nice job giving yourself a new nickname, Kanzabrain. There is a constant clod-splash of other riders negotiating the crossing beside me. Look at you. ... That strange flood of weakness that accompanies those moments when you remember something... that you didn't want to. This race. There are more watery crossings, but not as girthy as that one. I’m calculating how I’m going to stretch out what I have. Yeah, that’s not going to happen. After a week of reflection, what would have done differently in prepping for DK. I stick one on the back of my neck. I pull the empty bottle out of my jersey to make room for a new one. You are insignificant. How’s that grab ya? Fallen For You (foaled 7 April 2009) is a British Thoroughbred racehorse and broodmare.After winning on her racecourse debut she finished second in the May Hill Stakes before finishing fifth in the Fillies' Mile.She began her three-year-old racing on synthetic tracks, winning a minor race at Kempton before returning to the turf to … “Inchoosing the rescheduled date, we applied careful consideration to avoid interfering with otherscheduled races. You amaze me. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed. please go be deservingly famous. I loved seeing the happiness of the riders so it was really fun and worth it. This year, he’s back to mix it up over 200 miles of gravel. I will finish this ride. I am passed, I pass others. My confidence once again evaporates into the thick Kansas air. It asks me if I’m ok with that. Believe me, boys. It mocks you. Yaws tweaked. People come and go. See yourself as it sees you. Is this too much code? The ride is gone. You deserve every compliment written above. Back in my room I peel a glove off just as the sky empties its stomach contents to the earth below. Could it be, think I, that the clicking sound emanating from the pedal region has been plucking that foot like a stand up double bass string for oh, I dunno, 150 miles or so? Thank you so much. I am in awe. It was most enjoyable reading your Kanza story. I am so glad conditions were so perfect, no wind compared to last year. I took the extra step to sit outside and hand out the waters by myself. People are cheering me through, and now I hear my name and I’m in the chute and across the line and rolling to a stop and holding a finisher’s glass and there’s Dan and there’s Reba and I have Kanza brain so I can’t speak anything but gibberish and it’s mush and I’m dumb with it. “I’m so sorry, we’re out of water,” says the lady at the back of the pickup. Great race and lovely post! They can keep their current entry and participate in the rescheduled event in September, defer their current entry to the 2021 event with a waived deferral fee, orreceive a refund for their 2020 entry. These kids by the road up ahead with a cooler full of water bottles are not a mirage. Open letter from Medical Doctors and Health Professionals on the COVID-19; The Science of the Marathon and Art of … Rocks like baseballs in creek beds, a thin track to try hit and fly through. But the foot has been holding pocket aces this whole time, it seems. The great Oz has spoken! I spend my time visually inspecting the bikes around me. He is my Obi Wan. “No, don’t stop! Local cyclist Jeff Usher is pedaling more than 250 miles a week to train for the Dirty Kanza 200, a 200-mile bike race over a … It’s all messed up. Kits of a certain color line up together. A sunbather in the depths of Kansas, eyes closed, hands folded on his chest. 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Re more suited to sitting in dark rooms with books and flashlights stupid...