Month: August 2021

Day 1

Marc and I had scheduled the last week of July and the first week of August off for vacation sometime in January. We had talked for months about what we were going to do and where we were going to go. We talked about going to Colorado again. My brother used to live in Longmont and we made the trip to Colorado every year for almost 20 years, and we both missed the mountains. We talked about driving up to the upper Peninsula of Michigan and getting a cabin and exploring the wilderness up there. We talked about driving to the start of the Michigan Coast to Coast route (a 200 mile route across the state on gravel roads from Lake Huron to Lake Michigan) and then riding the route on our bikes. However, that would be complicated, as we would have to have a location to park our car for over a week, or get a rental car there and then back.

We talked back and forth, and we weren’t sure that we wanted to spend any time in the car. Day to day life is busy and stressful, and filled with deadlines, responsibilities, schedules, and traffic. The entire purpose of vacation is to escape, and that is what we wanted to do. In the end, we decided to pack up our bikes and head out our front door. We decided a good location for the first day of riding was Potato Creek State Park. The park is about 60 miles from our house, and we knew from experience that when you’re bike packing with loaded bikes that weigh over 65 pounds, 60 miles a day is about the limit if you want to enjoy the day.

We thought we could leave home around noon, and make it to the park in plenty of time to set up camp and eat supper. However, we grossly underestimated the packing and bike preparation, and we ended up not getting out the door until 1:40 pm. That meant we would have to pedal fast, which was not going to be an easy feat. Marc weighed the bikes before we set out. Mine weighed 67 pounds and his weighed 83 pounds with the bikes and equipment all together.

When we set out, it was HOT. It was about 87 degrees, and the sun was relentless. Marc had created a route on his Garmin, however, we had to re-route 3 times due to summer road construction.

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Even though it was hot, hot, hot, and we were in a hurry, we tried to enjoy the day. We passed by fields of mint that smelled like chewing gum, and fields of peppers and potatoes. There was hardly any traffic. It was such a pretty route!

I also saw a really cool barn that looked like the farm it stood on was abandoned. I am a sucker for old barns, so I had to take a picture. We also got lost for a while, and we were both getting very low on water. I saw a young boy on a bike pass us and I asked him “Is there a place we can get water that’s close?” He said “You mean like at someone’s house?” I told him no, but that a gas station would be nice. He then said “Oh, yeah, there’s a gas station in town.” He still wasn’t understanding, and I said “So, exactly where is the town?” He then directed us to take the road and curve to the left, and it would take us right into town. We stopped at a gas station and got water and some chips.

We pulled into Potato Creek State Park close to sunset. The woman at the entrance charged $4 for the two of us and our bikes to enter the park. She then directed us to the campground, which was three miles from the entrance. We were racing the sun, and it was crazy that once we got to the park we still had three miles to go!

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I hadn’t been to Potato Creek State Park since the kids were little, and we took a cub scout hiking trip there. My memory of the park was that there was a lake, but very little woods, and mostly open fields. The park had changed so much! It was lovely, and the road winded through some beautiful forested areas. Marc rushed to set up the tent, and I rushed to get food ready. We had planned a dinner of peppers, onions, avocado, refried beans, and rice wrapped in tortillas. It was comical, because it was almost dusk, and I was trying to cut peppers and onions while swatting mosquitoes. I was doing a dance, while Marc got out the bug spray. (It didn’t work!) Marc set up the small camping stove, and I threw everything together in one pot just to get it cooked, and get us fed before it got dark. We wrapped everything in the tortillas, then the two of us paced back and forth, trying to eat and swat mosquitoes! We couldn’t figure out where to wash dishes, so we wrapped everything in plastic bags to wash later. Below is a picture of the chaos.

We took showers and then settled into our tent. The setting sun had not cooled it down, so it was still very hot. Marc rigged a battery operated fan at the top of the tent to cool us off. We had blow-up mattresses and memory foam to put on top, so it was actually pretty comfortable. With the fan and the soft mattresses, I thought I might possibly go right to sleep after pedaling 60.01 miles. I was wrong. It was just hot. And the campers next to us had a fire going, and they were very loud. We assumed that 10:00 would come and they would go to bed, since this is usually campground quiet time. I was wrong again. The later it got, the louder they became. I could only assume they were enjoying way too many alcoholic beverages. They also didn’t put out their campfire. I was still pretty sure a park ranger would call them out and make them be quiet and put out their fire. Do I need to say I was wrong again? The party boys went at it until 2:30 am. I ended up covering my eyes with my headband and putting on my headphones to play some music to drown out the noise. The problem was I had to turn the music up loud to drown them out. My Fitbit said that I ended up getting 4 hours of very restless sleep, and my sleep score was 58. Do I need to explain that a score of 58 is POOR?!

The next day we got up and started packing to go. The amazing thing is that the partiers who had been up at 2:30 am were also up! I had assumed they would sleep until noon. I was very thankful for the nitro coffee that I had packed, and it tasted wonderful So wonderful in fact, both Marc and I had two cans and some oatmeal bars.

We ended up getting everything packed to make our way out of the park by about 10:20 am. We decided to take the bike trail through the park to see what it was like. It was lovely, and it meandered through the woods to the front entrance. As we left the park, I took a picture of Marc by the lake, and Marc and I snapped some pictures on the bike trail.

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Day 2

Our destination after we left Potato Creek State Park, was Shipshewana, Indiana. Shipshewana is in northeast Indiana, and is a tourist destination because of the Amish and Mennonite population there. The population of Shipshewana was only 658 at the last census. Because of the Amish community and the small population, both Marc and I assumed the route there would be peaceful and lovely. We expected little traffic, as Marc had made a route which bypassed highways and consisted of county roads.

We got on the road after 10:00 am, and it as already a scorcher of a day. There was full sun, and temperatures were in the high 80’s. It was so miserable, I found myself hoping and praying we would pass through some sprinklers. Just as I had this thought, we saw farmer’s pivots watering the fields in the distance. An answer to a prayer! We stopped at each one, and laughed with delight. Marc was like a little kid that I had to take kicking and screaming from the water park. He insisted on staying in the water as long as he could. I snapped a picture, laughing, as he just stood there and checked his bike. He wasn’t budging. It was positively delightful, and I too felt like a little kid. We had lucked out!

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After we passed through the pivots, we hit a series of county roads that were like highways. It was crazy! Cars were speeding over 60 mph, there was no shoulder, and the traffic was terrible. We tried to re-route, but all the county roads were the same. We were baffled as to why in the world there would be so much traffic in what we thought was the middle of nowhere! Marc kept checking his phone, trying to re-route us, and we did manage to find some roads that were lower traffic.

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We pulled into a small town called New Paris around 1:30 in the afternoon. We were both starving, and we were excited to see a little, authentic looking Mexican restaurant called Antojitos. We parked our bikes and went inside, because we could see the bikes from the window. There was only one other customer in the restaurant, and he asked us where we were from and where we were going. After two days on the road, the food tasted fabulous! The salsa and guacamole were very much homemade, and either it was the best salsa and guacamole we had ever had, or we were very hungry! When I went to pay the bill, the owner got very confused as he could barely speak english. He handed me a calculator and asked if I could add it up for him. I did, and handed him back the calculator. He didn’t charge tax, but I didn’t know how to explain that to him, or if his prices already included tax. I took a picture of our food, and Marc took a picture of me and my bike next to the restaurant sign.

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We really just wanted to take a nap after lunch, but we got on our bikes and headed northeast. There were more crazy county roads, before we got to Indiana State Road 5, which would take us straight into Shipshewana. This road was amazing! It had a separate lane for the Amish and their bikes and buggies, so we could travel safely. We took this road for about 10 miles, and it led us directly to our hotel. Yes, a hotel and not a tent! I enjoyed seeing the buggies and the Amish on their bikes. There was an old man with a long white beard and a straw hat who was riding an electric bike. I assumed the Amish must make exceptions for older people who can’t care for a horse or ride a bike. The bike looked like an old Amish bike, but it was equipped with a motor. I really wanted to take pictures, but I thought that would be disrespectful, so I only took one picture of a buggy from behind, so they wouldn’t see me.

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When we got to the hotel, we saw that is looked brand new, and it was so nice! It was within walking distance of the town’s shops and restaurants, and the rooms were huge.

We got our room, showered, and looked at our phones to find a place to eat. It was strange, because it was only abut 7:00 and the entire town was pretty much shut down. We ended up getting a pizza at a carry-out place next to the hotel. We ate it in our hotel room, but Marc was still so hungry, he said he had to go find more food. So we walked through town and found ice cream and cookies at a gas station. We then went back to our hotel to have a VERY blissful and quiet night’s sleep.

In 2020 most of the races for the Michigan Gravel Series were canceled. With the advent of COVID vaccinations and lifted restrictions, the 2021 series was not only in full force, it also added a few new races. Hart Hills is a gravel race in Hart, Michigan that is one of the newly added races to the Michigan Gravel Series. According to Wikipedia, Hart is a small town encompassing 2.07 square miles, with a population of 2,126; hardly a sprawling metropolis! It was founded in 1856 by Wellington Hart, and that is about all the history that is known for this tiny town. The race was to be held May 1, 2021, and the course for the short series was only 25 miles. I thought it was odd that the course was so short, as races for the Michigan Gravel Series short series are typically between 30 and 40 miles. I should have known that because Hart, Michigan is very close to the shore of Lake Michigan that it would be a sandy course! I was absolutely not prepared for the conditions I would encounter on May 1st. 25 miles ended up being more than enough of Hart Hills! The map below shows the location of Hart.

We left for Hart the night before the race, to save ourselves from having to get up at 3:00 am in order to make the race start on time. As luck would have it, the hotel was next to a bike path that would take us just a short distance right into town. It was very chilly for May 1st, and we all dressed in long sleeves and winter tights for the race. The plan was for Marc to stay with me on the course and help pull for me against the wind. My sister Arlene was racing her gravel bike, and I was racing my fat bike.

Getting our race packets and getting ready for the race start was non-eventful. I snapped some pictures before we set out, and the other photos were taken by the race photographer. Because of COVID restrictions, we were all supposed to wear masks at the start for the first mile. As you can see from the start picture of me at the bottom of this picture gallery, there weren’t many people complying with the restrictions. At the time I was only two weeks out from my first COVID vaccination, and I wasn’t happy about the lack of compliance.

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We started the race, and I tried to stay with Marc and the lead pack as we rode the paved road through town to get to gravel. I found myself completely out of breath, and totally unable to stay with anyone. When the weather is cold, a very strange thing sometimes happens. My lungs shut down and decide they are NOT going to take in cold air. As a result, I become totally breathless, and my legs don’t work. This is a phenomenon that only happens in the cold; I never have problems in warm weather. When we left the pavement, the gravel road was covered in thick sand, and we had a head wind. It made it even more difficult to keep any kind of momentum. I was struggling so much, that I remember looking at my Garmin to see how far I had gone because I was totally spent. I had only gone five miles! There was thick sand and hill after hill, all while fighting the wind. Marc was becoming increasingly frustrated by my inability to stay with him. But then, as luck would have it, the bolt came off of Marc’s back wheel, and he was in danger of losing his wheel. He slowed down and told me to go on. From then on, I was on my own. The race didn’t get any better and the wind picked up as we hit more hills, pelting me with sand. I had sand in my teeth and eyes, and I remember thinking that this was the most ridiculous thing in the world, racing a bike in the freezing cold, climbing hills, and getting blasted with sand! What was wrong with me?!

Just as I was about to give up, we pulled onto pavement and a miraculous thing happened! We had a tailwind! I flew at about 30 mph on sweet pavement with the wind at my back, and I was re-energized. I was surprised that there were so many miles of pavement, and I was thrilled when I saw the finish line ahead. I rode so hard, I was hoping that I had finished well. I passed the finish line and parked my bike, looking for other riders that I knew. I didn’t see anyone, so I checked my phone to see how I had finished. I had finished 1st, and there weren’t any other fat bikes in yet! It was then that the wind picked up even more, and one of my gloves blew down the street. I tried to retrieve it, but then my bike blew over. Tables, pamphlets, and bikes were blowing down Main Street! It was wild how the wind kept picking up and up! I then heard the announcer say he had found a glove, so I went to claim it.

I wondered if Marc had to be rescued, but then I saw him cross the finish line. He had very carefully ridden his bike back to town, and he luckily hadn’t lost his wheel. Our friend James finished 3rd in his age group, and Arlene finished 3rd in hers.

After we all caught up with each other, we decided to eat out at the only pizza place in town. Because of COVID, we were all nervous about inside dining. However, the outside idea proved to be comical. The tables and chairs were blowing over, and our bikes blew down the street with a table. We decided to secure the bikes and eat inside. This race was typical of most races…while I’m on the course I’m suffering so much that I wonder what in the heck I’m doing, then I pass the finish line and I feel so great I want to do it again! It’s funny how awesome races always seem in retrospect.

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The Dirty Donut is a race held in the small town of Martin, Michigan. It is not a part of the Michigan Gravel Race Series, and can best be described as a fun race for all kinds of riders, from the serious to the recreational. It also happens to be my sister Arlene’s favorite race. I jokingly accuse her of “sandbagging” since she likes to ride the short race (22 miles) with the more recreational riders. It’s easy to feel like a superstar on the bike when the riders around you are walking hills! You can choose to do the “donut” or the “sprint” race. If you do the donut race, you get five minutes shaved off of your race time for every donut you eat at designated stops. The sprint race is for the more serious racer, and there is no donut eating. I opted to race the 41 mile fat bike sprint race and Arlene opted for the 22 mile sprint race on her gravel bike. There was no female fat bike class, so I had to ride in the co-ed division. That meant I had to compete with the boys!

Arlene and I loaded the bikes and made the trip to Martin the morning of the race. Marc opted not to go, because he had projects to do at home, and he said the silly race was not for him. When we got there, we parked at Martin High School and got our bikes ready. A man there asked if we wanted him to take our picture, and I said yes and handed him my phone. I think Arlene and I looked like serious racers!

My 41 mile race was to start first. The announcer talked a little bit, and then the count down began. Soon we were off. I stayed to the left and tried my best to stay with the lead group as they rode behind a pace car, which was to lead the entire race. I was thrilled as I managed to stay with the lead group until we turned off into the woods. Then things got very scary! I had never stayed with the lead riders for so long, and we were a tight pack in the woods on a winding road. It was unnerving not to be able to see the road in front of me, and to be surrounded by so many riders! By mile five I lost my nerve completely and I held back a little bit, as the lead group slipped away. Then I was passed by a group of men on fat bikes. The last man in the group yelled “Come on and hang on until the first donut stop!” I jumped on his wheel and was thrilled I was able to stay with the group! I ended up averaging 19.8 mph all the way until the first donut stop. I think I maintained this speed until about mile 15. I assumed the group, who were very fast, would eat their donuts and then they would catch up to me. However, I never saw them again. I then had to try and catch the wheel of any rider who passed me. At one point, when I was crawling about 11 mph against a terrible headwind, a couple on a tandem passed me going about 17 mph. I forced myself to stay with them all the way until I could see pavement ahead. I was racing so hard because I knew there were no other women and just a few men in the co-ed fat bike division, and it was my goal to beat the guys and make it to the podium.

Arlene was waiting for me at the finish line, and she snapped my picture. It turned out that I finished the race at 16.3 mph, one of my fastest fat bike times ever, and I got second place! Arlene won her age group in the 22 mile race. That day was so HOT! I had run out of water at mile 35, and it seemed I was thirsty for days afterwards!

As we were waiting for the awards ceremony, the second place winner in Arlene’s age group came up to us and said “You’re the girls from Indiana!” as if we were celebrities! She knew that Arlene was the 2019 Michigan Gravel Series gravel scholar, and she said “You’re indianagirlonabike!” and that she had read my blog. At first, I was taken aback. It never occurred to me that someone actually read my blog! Then, after being freaked out and feeling like someone was asking for my autograph, I decided it was very flattering, and it was nice of her to come up and talk to us.

Then it was time for them to announce the fat bike awards. This was a co-ed division, and there was no female division. However, they announced the winners and said “The winners of the male fat bike division are…” and they named the third place winner as the second male winner! I had worked way too hard for this, so I immediately put down my water bottle and went up to the announcer and told him that I was the second place co-ed winner, and there was no male or female division. He stuttered and then corrected himself. The man with the second place medal around his neck sheepishly took the medal off and handed it to me. He said “Yeah, that’s what I read on the results”. He looked embarrassed. Arlene said she was proud of me for standing up for myself. The podium picture is the center picture under the title above. Third place is in yellow. It was fun to have a podium picture with boys!

The Dirty Donut also gives award for King and Queen of the Donut. The male and female who eat the most donuts and still finish below the cut off time are awarded a jersey. This year the King of the Donuts for the 41 mile race ate 20 donuts and the Queen ate 9. I’m not so sure if I ate 9 donuts that I’d be able to ride 41 miles…I’d most likely slip into a sugar nap and wake up after everyone had gone home! Although the idea of having 5 minutes shaved off your finish time for every donut is tempting…

The Cow Pie Classic is held in Ionia Michigan, a small city southeast of Hart. I love this race. The promoters go out of their way to provide a very entertaining experience. Part of the race goes through a farmer’s field, where you dodge cow pies spray painted with orange bull’s eyes. You then go through a brief ride through the woods, onto a two track trail through a field, and then through a barn, before exiting back onto the gravel road. It’s the cow’s feeding time, so there is usually a cow mooing symphony, with people ringing cow bells alongside the road. But most of the race goes through rolling gravel roads that are very FAST! This year the fat bike competition was stiff, with 6 women and 16 fatbikes overall. I was really concerned, because all of the women were strong, and one of them was a cross fitter who was probably 25 years or more younger than me. I started this race solo, because Marc was in a wave ahead of me. I don’t think I’ve ever ridden a race harder, and I stayed with the lead group in my wave all the way into the pasture. As we hit the pasture, the wave scattered. I could see the riders on skinny gravel tires were taking the grass and dirt easy, but it was no problem for my fat bike. As I came close to the barn that led back to the gravel road, I saw Marc. He saw me and immediately started riding faster. He said he had held back, waiting for me. The rest of the race was a blur. I have never, ever had a race where we rode so hard and stayed with groups of riders the entire race. It was crazy fast, and I couldn’t believe I was staying with guys on skinny gravel tires, and sometimes passing them. This was honestly the race of my entire racing career. The stars aligned on this day. I was energized, my bike was fast, and there were continual groups of riders to tag along with. When we finished, I checked the results on my phone. I had gotten first place woman by 11 seconds. I also finished 4th out of 16 overall, including the men!

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The Divide Grave Race in Manton, Michigan was July 25th. Marc was working on our deck project, so I made this 4 hour drive to Manton, Michigan solo. The morning of July 25th I left at 5:45 AM to make the race start on time at noon. With the time change and stops, along with warm up time, I couldn’t leave any later. The Divide is, I think, the absolute toughest race in the series. It is hilly and sandy. Sandy is actually an understatement!

The ride to Manton was so looooong! I had several complete stops due to traffic construction, and the car drive seemed to go on forever. By the time I got to Manton I was exhausted. This race really is difficult to describe. It is always held the hottest time of the year, and it begins at 12:00 pm. The heat always makes this race so brutal! And the course really can’t be described to do it justice. It is hill after hill, after hill. The roads are sandy and difficult and winding. It is just HARD. And the seasonal road, Gilberts Corners, gets more difficult every year because it is not maintained. I think even a four wheel drive Jeep would have difficulty maneuvering this road. It is ankle deep sand, deep ruts, and holes. Most of it is completely unrideable, and it stretches on for miles. This year I tried to ride the road on the grassy edges. It worked for a while, but then I fell off the grassy edge into the woods. I then tried riding the grassy strip in the middle of the road. I ran sections that were ankle deep sand with my bike, and I jumped on my bike with my feet unclipped out of the pedals for the downhills. I ended up walking a rocky section because of a rider walking his bike in front of me. This road seemed to go on forever, and most of the riders around me were walking their bikes through every sandy section. The entire race was just exhausting, especially after the four hour car drive. When I was two miles from the finish, a woman who looked like she was in my age group passed me. There was no way I was going to let that happen! She was on a gravel bike, and I was on a fat bike. As soon as I crested the last hill before the finish line, I took off and never looked back. I beat her by less than a minute, and I finished 3rd in my age group on the fat bike against girls on gravel bikes. Our entire A1 team did well at this race, and we all posed for pictures afterwards. The four hour drive home left me so exhausted, I slept A LOT for the next three days!

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