Hill country Hundy 100k gravel ride

I have enjoyed several gravel grinder races in the past few years. I have never entered a race on paved roads, mountain bike trails, a BMX track, cyclocross mayhem, etc. Something about an easy, breezy bimble along miles of crunchy gravel roads with dozens of other freds sounded like fun. Low-pressure competition, endless horizons of countryside to take in, and the challenge of spinning your bike up and down mile after mile of serene country dirt roads sounds like bliss.

Like eating a really spicy curry that ignites your throat and sinuses and makes you question your life choices until you get to the sublime flavor behind the heat, riding gravel roads is bliss after you break through the gauntlet of frozen fingers, numb toes, a sore bum, windburned face, sand pits, cattle guards, corrugated road surfaces, aid stations that always seem one kilometer away, missed turns, cow poops, dust storms, and convent-like solitude that hours spent on a country road. You start to wonder, "where are the 200 other riders who were with me when we left? Did that cow just mock me? Why did I start with 35 psi in my tires when I clearly should have 33?"

I rode my new Traitor Crusade singlespeed cyclocross bike for the Spinistry Hill Country Hundy yesterday. I am sore, as I expected, but the bike served me well.

My official time was 5.5 hours, but my GPS counted about 5 hours because it doesn't count time stopped to pee, take photos, chat with the other riders at the aid stations, and so on.

The bike

"gravel bike"

The Crusade came with a 36 tooth front chainring and a 16t cog in the back. I rode it like that once and decided that gear was too steep for my climbing skills, so I swapped in a 17 tooth rear cog, and then an 18 tooth. 36x18 puts my gear inches the high 50s. It's quite a bit higher than what I have on my mountain bike, but low enough that I can grind my way up some hills at a reasonable cadence. The route took me up over 2,000 feet of climbing and none of the hills made me feel like to was going to rip my knees apart.

I am re-thinking this strategy - choosing a lower gear that climbs well but it not as fast on the flat sections. Perhaps it would be better to use a taller gear so I can make better time on the flats and suffer through a few climbs. I'll experiment with that and report back.

I feared that the stock 32mm Kenda Kommando tires would be too narrow for comfort on the long miles of gravel, but they did OK. The Hundy featured several miles of proper road pavement and a few miles of rough paved country roads. All of the gravel was level, hard-packed, and of a fine grain. I only wanted for traction a few times and was glad to have relatively lightweight tires for the climbs.

32mm tires were sufficient for control on this particular selection of gravel but I plan to put some bigger tires on this bike just so I can use the comfort provided by the extra volume. It looks 38mm is the limit for the rear and I can put just about whatever I want on the front. I think something in the 40-42mm range should be fine. 

Otherwise, the Cowbell handlebars were comfy, the WTB Devo wrecked minimal havoc on my butt, and the Cateye handlebar bell provided moments of whimsy when I needed it most. I carried a Back Bottle (full of Gatorade) in my jersey pocket, a bottle in the downtube cage, and a bottle in the Jannd frame bag. Snacks and my phone stayed in the toptube bag until needed. I really need to find a way to put a seat tube bottle cage on this bike, but, being a CX bike, Traitor didn't bother with seat tube braze-ons. The downtube fender was robbed from a Trek kid's bike and mostly serves to keep road grime off my water bottle spout, cuz no one wants to drink water with a little cow poop in it, even if it's just a lil bit of cow poop.

I carried some home-made goo (brown rice syrup, coconut oil, molasses, coffee), some Clif bars (those suck to eat while riding, no room to breathe in your mouth), and some weird electrolyte pills that I have had forever. I ate a big breakfast of a coconut-chia pudding/ banana/ oatmeal/ protein powder smoothie and scrambled some tofu with seaweed. When the ride started, my belly was still quite full and that slowed me down. I don't know how to go about eating any earlier and I am open to suggestions!

The ride

There were fewer riders in attendance than I expected after seeing the crowds that gather for Chainring Massacre and Castell Grind, but it was at least 100 riders. We started at 9 a.m. with what was supposed to be a slow, neutral start. The escort car took off and I found myself quickly falling losing positions. The mangy peloton went through downtown Llano and turned onto a country road. We were five miles and some change before we hit real gravel.

endless miles of cenTex dirt

This is Texas Hill Country. The moniker is appropriate. Hills because of the elevation. I climbed over 2000 feet, but the 100-mile route was over 3000 feet of climbing. As much as I enjoy a challenge, I am glad I turned off at the split where the 100-milers left everyone else.

There were also cows on the road, along with the cattle guards and cow-landmines. Cow poops are easy to avoid if you're not sleeping or texting while riding, but cattle guards must be traversed on the bike. Get some speed, stand up, and let the bike bounce and float under you as you cross one. The rails of the guard make a cool "bzzzzzip" noise as your float over them.

Guess who left that there!

dozens of these things on the route

The best part about these country gravel events is the views. You can enjoy them one of two ways: pace with another rider and chat or set off on your own like a monk and just soak it in. The droning crunch of gravel under your tires, the passing clouds above and sandy-dry riverbeds under your path make you forget about everything else for a few precious hours.

This crossing was high and dry as they get. Others were wetter.

As you float over the crest of a hill, you can live momentarily in an infinite row of undulating hills that stretch into infinity to roll forever.

Riding this event was worth it for this slow coaster of hills.

I met the Chumba guys around 1/3 of the way into the route and they had bananas and pouches of liquid calories (aka Capri Sun). I stopped for a moment and talked with Vince about obscure bike-adventure magazines. When I have the money, I'll buy one of their bikes because they make cool stuff nearby and support fun events.

The rest was a weird trip. Cows, sand-river crossings, rolling hills, and I kept passing and getting passed by the same 5-6 people. The temperature was well "sweltering" but not quite "warm" either. There was ample cloud cover but some stiff headwinds. The result was that you sweat enough to dehydrate quickly, but not enough that you notice it until it's too late. The dry air and wind would wick the sweat off and let it do what sweat is supposed to do: cool you down.

The result is that you dehydrate without knowing it. I started to drag around mile 48. I knew I was getting to the home stretch, but I was starting to feel like I could barely move my legs. There was a water/snacks station around mile 48 and I noticed that I still had an almost full water bottle. That's a sign that I was rationing my water too closely. I started drinking water more heartily and, within a few minutes, I got a second wind and felt like flying.

I rounded out the last few miles of pavement in a blur with my newfound strength, provided by the magic of H2O. I nearly missed a turn at the convention center where the race started and triumphantly pumped my fists in the air as I crossed the official finish, for an audience of 4 or 5 people who were milling about. I had a chat with Kevin from Spinistry and he let me stand on the "fast" box of the podium. I felt "fast" but not faster and certainly not "fastest."

recovery sammie- PB, jelly, smooshed banana. X2.