Gravel Metric

Dekalb, IL
Gravel Metric Sunday May 29, 2011
by: Angela Catalano

...or how I became “that Twin Six girl who was taken by the river.”

The ride was scheduled to begin at 9 AM, so my boyfriend and I got to North Central Cyclery around 8 AM to sign in, grab cue sheets, etc. I met a fellow Team Twin Six rider named Paolo right away, which was a great way to start the event in a city (and state) I’ve never ridden in. Everyone was really friendly, and we heard the nightmarish tales of last year’s event - 95 degrees, no cloud cover, and heat stroke. Needless to say, everyone was pretty happy with the weather conditions for this year’s ride - 60 degrees, cloudy, and storms holding out until after the ride.

About 120 riders rolled out at 9 AM and hung together for the first couple of miles, with the lead pack taking off after that. I decided to hang back and ride conservatively until I got in a decent warm up. I ended up riding with a Half Acre rider named Adrienne, who was keeping a similar pace and was really friendly. We kept a steady pace and hit the first checkpoint at about mile 17 feeling pretty awesome. At about mile 19 the rain started and we could see lightning in the distance. At mile 21, the lightning was getting louder and closer, and at that point, we had caught up to a group of riders who had stopped to figure out how to proceed. We all rationalized that the lightning was still pretty far away, and if we rode hard, we’d ride in front of the impending storm. This last all of a mile, and then the lightning was on top of us. Fortunately, a very hospitable local let us into his garage to ride out what we thought was the worst part of the storm.

We figured we got lucky, and decided to head out after about 15 minutes since the lightning seemed to dissipate. The rain continued pretty heavily, but we were able to ride the next 9 miles to the next checkpoint with minimal lightning. The volunteers at the second checkpoint pointed us down the next “dirt road,” which had turned into mud and mini ponds. I was secretly excited about this because I really wanted to ride through some mud…until I saw everyone carrying their bikes. Of course, I figured it would be a good time to show how tough I am and I took off riding into the mud. I made it all of 300 feet until my bike was locked into the gunk. Once we made it through the 1.5 miles of mud, we were relieved to see more rideable gravel. We assumed the rest would be gravel, since the event website only mentioned the one stretch of possibly un-rideable conditions. We were sadly mistaken.

We came up to another section of mud and mini ponds, and the lightning began again. The lightning got much closer, and at one point, a huge bolt struck a few hundred feet from us. We all decided to take “shelter” in the tall grass and try to get as low to the ground as possible. It was at this time that I said something along the lines of, “I’m so done with this lightning. This is one of the dumbest things I’ve ever done.” Things were about to get much worse.

After ducking out for another 10 minutes, we decided to make a break for it and try to get to the next rideable section. We biked/hiked for another couple of miles, and then we hit what was affectionately referred to as “the water crossing.” I found out later that the lead group hit the crossing and the water was just below the knees and still somewhat rideable. When we hit it, the water was waist deep (about chest deep for me, given the height difference), rising, and moving quickly. A couple of riders made unsuccessful attempts to cross until someone figured out that taking off our shoes would give us better grip on the slippery rocks below. With my shoes in one hand and my bike across my shoulder, I started side-stepping my way across. About halfway through, a large branch below the surface hit my legs and I lost my grip: I was being swept down the river. I helplessly tried to regain my grip on the bottom, but there was no way I could fight the current. There was a pretty solid chance that I could drown, so I tried to keep my body afloat. I was able to swing my bike towards the edge, and my wheels caught some branches and slowed me enough to where I could float towards higher ground.  After I was able to catch myself a bit, another rider was able to hold onto a branch and grab my bike. He helped drag me and my bike ashore, and miraculously, I didn’t lose my water bottles, anything out of my jersey pockets, or anything else off my bike. 

I think I was a bit in shock by what had just happened, and the rest of the ride is sort of a blur. There was more lightning, more riding through streams, more mud. When we hit the third checkpoint at mile 45 or so, I must have looked like hell because everyone kept asking if I was alright. The wind had picked up about 5 miles earlier, and from the cold water of the river and the continuous rain, I was shaking uncontrollably and I couldn’t feel my hands and feet. Adrienne made the best call for me then and said we should stop there and take a ride back. After all that we had just been through, I felt a substantially smaller amount of shame than I would have normally felt about throwing in the towel. The righteous volunteers covered me in towels and blankets and that ended our adventure.

Back at the shop, everyone figured out that I was “that girl in the river,” so a lot of people came up to me to ask how I was. I even got a new Park Tool pump out of sympathy, which was awesome. Despite all of the craziness, I really had a blast. It was by far one of the hardest events I’ve done, and I’m looking forward to the calamity that will surely ensue next year.

Some pictures and an even longer report is on my blog: bikesbeerfilm.tumblr.com