The Horny Cat 69: Brought to you by Mutual of Omaha (not really)

Finally.  Details for the Horny Cat 69 ride on September 9th.

This will be the post I'd like ANY of you to refer to if you're trying to spread the word OR figure things out for yourself.  There won't be a Facebook event page (not that I'm going to create), because I want to keep this manageable.

There will be a hangout after the ride. We would love it IMMENSELY if you could donate $10 to the pizza/beer/soda fund, because a hangout without pizza/beer/soda is dumb. I have a hose if you're thirsty otherwise because I literally can't stop any cheapskate party-hater from joining us on a bike ride.  This is America, and you have all the rights to do all the things you think you can do.

Shoot me an email at SMELLYCAT100K at hotmail dot com, and I'll shoot you my VENMO deets for payment.

WE WILL HAVE A RAIN DATE of September 23rd if ANY of the trails we'd planned on riding are closed. If that date does not work, THERE ARE NO REFUNDS.  I might try and squeeze another rain date into late October, but if I can't, I will donate your $10 to the Tarheel Trailblazers. You'll feel good about that. Trust me. Seriously, if you can't afford to have $10 disappear like a fart in the wind, you shouldn't be doing this event anyways.  Any leftover money from pizza/beer/soda fund will go that way as well, because I'm planning on making -$40 on this (routing with Ride With GPS ain't free). After I get your money, your name and email address will be on the distribution list to get all the details about the race to include; parking, general warnings, the course details, and gpx, fit, and Ride With GPS routes.  ONLY DONATERS WILL GET THE DEETS BECAUSE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO MAKE PARTY, THIS ISN'T YOUR KINDA RIDE... unless it is, because... America?

The ride will start and end near the Back Yard Tails system @9:00 to give you a general idea you can sorta plan around (plan on showing up @7-30-8:00AM), but the exact information will be in that email, and obvs we're gonna need you to get there much earlier than that to sort yinz out.

What about that email?

You will get an email from me on the evening of September 6th.  Check your junk box if you don't see it, just in case it gets flagged as SPAM.  If you don't get it, HMU.  I'll keep accepting VENMO donations until 11:59PM September 3rd, Sunday, so I can get the email out to everyone with plenty of time for riders to see the route and give ALL the details a good looksee. 

The email you get will begin thusly:

Things you should know.  There are a lot of details so put on your readers and sit down.  SAVE THIS EMAIL SO YOU CAN REFER TO IT ON THE DAY IF YOU GET CONFUSE.

This an unsupported ride-at-your-own-risk group ride with an absolute "will drop you" policy on an arduous unmarked route, and the "group" will probably fall apart immediately.  This is why we highly advise you to DOWNLOAD THE ATTACHED ROUTE (edit: letting geared butthole people know that the ROUTE WILL BE LINKED IN THE EMAIL), load it up to your device, and use it (yes, you need a device).  Do not think that you will be able to just "follow someone else."  That won't pan out.  Or mebbe it will.  Consider bringing a charging block to keep your Garmin/Wahoo alive all day long, because...

To be an official finisher of this ride-at-your-own-risk thing, you will need to provide a STRAVA file (or similar) to prove it when you finish. Expect many pats on the back and attaboys/attagirls upon return.  This is not a race, so leave any and all dickhead racer attitudes at the door.  It's not just a bike ride tho... it's an adventure. 

Speaking of adventure...

 
If you are not comfortable with this, DON'T COME.  Pretty simple, eh?  

And really, if you don't have a Garmin or Wahoo or similar, know how to load a route, and then know how to follow that route, consult the nearest 20-30 something year old cyclist and get yourself sorted ASAP.

The email will also give some suggestions on "being prepared," but if you're the kinda person who has to be told how to prepare for something like this, mebbe you should race Summer Shart Tarck instead.

I didn't really wanna ask for money for the party, but it kinda makes sense.  First and foremost, a little green means you have enough skin in the game for me to bother with all the hassles involved in making this happen and mebbe you'll actually show up.  Tables and EZ-Ups don't erect themselves, and I don't have volunteers standing around in my yard every Saturday.  Shit, you can just give me $10 bucks and show up at my house to drink beer and eat pizza.  You can even skip parts of the route and do whatever you want.  You might have to wait on me to get back from doing my "duties," but you did pay, so whatevs.

There.  That's it.  If you send me an email with questions, I might answer them.  Might.  Depends on how dumb the question is.  I do have a life, and I will be on an extended vacation in August, so there's that.

See you on September 9th.

Celebrate some times, c'mon

I came sliding into my 54th birthday weekend like Willie Mays Hayes.

I'd been packing my week full and not really setting myself up for a successful three day weekend.  A wedding party kept me out late Friday, and after six hours of sleep, I found myself in the meetup spot at Rose's off Exit 27 for a mountain ride an hour too early because I'm an idiot.  At least I got some uncomfortable sleep in the back of the Honda Fit of Rage before heading out to ride the all new Bernard (or is it Burnered?) Trail.

Happy birthday to me.

Joined by a fine crew of misfits, we ripped around the new trail and then got a bonus lap on Kitsuma.  Don't ask me what I thought of Burnered as I don't believe judging a fresh trail is worth the effort.  It will be an entirely different animal once burnered in, so get back at me in a year.

Rode without my Awesome Strapped spare tube and CO2 because I'm just continuing the parade of sadness that I started when I got sick back in late May.  I swear I'm getting back on my shit.  Pinky swear.

Start a ride at a brewery, end a ride at a brewery... and then head to one more on the way home.

I did myself no favors on the evening of my birthday and woke up tired, bleary eyed, but committed to ride the Smelly Cat 100k course in order to get an ACTUAL gpx route for everyone else to follow as opposed to something sorta relatively accurate stitched together by Dr Mike using his brain and a computer.  Once again, I created my own problems.

Burke and Quiz Slut Mike agreed to join me on the ride.  I woke up and realized how truly unprepared I was for this endeavor I planned.  I'd never tried hooking my Wahoo data acquisition device up to an external battery pack before (like I shoulda done at the Mountain Cat 100), and I discovered a myriad of issues.  The cord wouldn't fit with my standard Wahoo mount due to the stem getting in the way.  It also wouldn't fit with the K Edge stem mount I took off my garvel bike.  It would fit with this Topeak mount I happen to have... but my stem was too wide for me to mount it properly. 

Whatever.

And...

Because I was having all kinds of issues with my Wahoo, I'd done a factory reset on it trying to get it sorted... and failed on so many levels.  I didn't realize until we were more than eight miles into the ride that I'd never paired the wheel sensor on my La-Z-Boy bike.

Stop.  Pair. Continue... and wonder if this ride had any point at all now.

Quiz Slut Mike bailed on us after about twenty miles.  Burke and I both started to flag when we hit just about the furthest point out on the ride.  We agreed to stop for a beer to debate the rest of our day.

Yeth, the Smelly Cat 100k will go right past Kit's on the Tracks if you seek solace in liquid form.

We rolled outta there, and I tried to justify not doing the final three trails on the way back home.  Burke has rode seven miles to just get to my house, and it was becoming apparent that the 100k was going to be much more than that.  

Sigh.

Two or three things weighed on my mind.  Firstly, Burke was already in for fourteen miles more suffering than I was on the day even after he bails on the final suffering.  Second, if he can do that, I could/should go ahead and finish the entire route, because... guilt.  Third and foremost, this route is pretty tough.  I don't anticipate ever wanting to do it again, and because I'm not sure what I need to stitch it together to most produce a Ride with GPS route that most closely matches what we expect everyone to do on September 9th, I better just do it.

I'd told The Pie I'd be gone about six hours.  Our total ride time and a very reserved pace was 6 hours 30 minutes, and with all the titty-dicking around and a stop for beer and water three or four times, we/me were/was gone for 8 hours 10 minutes. 

And I'll say this.  Those final bits of trail... oof.  Riders will only be about a mile from my house when they get to Park Road Park... if they quit.  If they decide to finish the entire route, there's still ten miles of riding to do.  That last trail?  Marion Diehl.  Bless the hearts of those that rerouted after the most recent construction/destruction, but I'll split the blame with them on the pain that will be incurred two and a half miles of the day. 

The actual route itself came out to be way more than the Ride with GPS predicted 100km and was almost nuts-on 69 miles, so...

It's now (more than likely) the Horny Cat 69.  It will be a fantastic non-no-drop ride.  I highly encourage you to take part this September 9th.  Obvs, more details to follow.

It was a good birthday.  Duh.

It takes a village

FWIW: I'm planning an event/non-event.  By "I," I mean me and mebbe some others.  By event/non-event, I mean it will be something that will be planned to happen on a predetermined day, have some loose organization, zero insurance, zero permits, and more or less something of a route.

This event/non-event will be loosely based on the Mountain Cat 100 that I did a couple weeks ago.  The loosely part being that there will be a GPX route that each rider can follow and no course markings aside from posted trail signs.  It will use legit trails, greenways, a few neighborhood roads, my front yard, and some bootleg'ish stuff.  It will mebbe be a 100, not miles but kilometers.  I don't think there will be any on-course aid, but who knows?  There's at least a water fountain or two on course and a bottle shop.  It's not so much of a race, and more just a big dumb thing.  In order to have an official finish, a full route file will have to be provided to me (or organized others) when they are done.  There may be beers in my yard afterward... strong emphasis on "may."

September or October is what I'm thinking.  Some time when if a rain might cause us to postpone, the next weekend will be available.  Looking over my shoulder at the calendar and there's not a whole lotta possibilities for back-to-back weekends, so the postpone date might have to be two weeks later.  Those months are pretty jammed up with Shenandoah Mountain 100, The Treeshaker, Pisgah Monster Cross, King and Queen of the Watershed, Pisgah 111/55.5k, Fonta Flora Barnburner...

Someone tell me why I've got nothing going on for months and months this summer and than a packed fall to choose from?

It would be easier to squeeze this in over the next two and half months when there's little going on, but it will require some planning.  Also, I'm trying to prioritize riding the whole route at least once before the actual event/non-event.

I'm not giving too much away by saying it's gonna include ALL of the Backyard Trails, Park Road Park, Little Sugar Creek Greenway, the abandoned golf cart paths, and probably at least one other system.

This is my excuse to "get back on my shit."  I kinda fell apart after getting sick and missing TSE.  I gained weight, rode less, and I'm still enjoying an occasional coughing spell.  With no goals or more pressing matters between now and a trip out west in August, this should consume my brain and motivate me to ride... some more?

And TBH, if this just turns into something dumb that me and some frands so, I'm good with that as well.

It's my three day birthday weekend starting Saturday, and with nothing else planned (and assuming the trails are open) and a proper route in hand (thanks, Dr Mike), I might just celebrate my 54th with 54 miles (and then also ride the remaining 7 miles so I end up back home).

Mountain Cat 100 '23: Part Two

Watts needs a Coke.  A magic elixir to turn his day around.  Sadly, there are no Cokes back at the Aid Station.  

But there is the gas station across the street with the bathroom we just hours earlier destroyed, so we head there.  We sit in front with our soda pops and debate what to do next.  Watts throws out the option that mebbe we just ride towards town and then mebbe hit some more trails if he feels better?  I'm still leaning towards the full quit since we're DNF bound on at least two levels.

Watts is just about done with his Mexican Coke when he sees a large group leaving the aid across the street.

"We should hop on with them."

dammit

A mad scramble to the bikes, a couple harder than I wanted to do efforts, and now we have new frands.  Again.

It's a nice lollygag back into town, and Watts seems to be a bit revived.  A modicum of life spark in his eye.  He's ambling around the Aid Station just outside of town behind the Outpost looking for yums.  He has the desire to try to jump on the train with some locals.  I concur... because there's too much daylight left to throw it all away if he's actually feeling froggy.

"Hey, Watts.  There's a good group leaving that we've ridden around before."

*Watts continues to fill bottles with hose water*

They leave.

"What about those guys?  We've been in the mix with them already."

*Watts continues to work on his Freezie Pop*

They leave.

"WATTS, THOSE GUYS ARE ON SINGLE SPEEDS.  WE SHOULD GO WITH THEM."

*Watts moves with intent*

And so we came to find ourselves in the very best company with locals Drew and Ian (who was actually on a Roholff R.I.P. equipped bike).  We hold onto them with white knuckle energy.  Once we get to the not official next aid station, Drew says he's starting to cramp.  We let him know that they are our only hope, so no pressure, but we need you... because that's officially when my Wahoo died... with over thirty miles of twists and turns and roads and trails and railroad tracks and bushwhacking to go.  I started recording the ride on my phone with STRAVA in case... dunno.  Data?

We continued on at the most pleasant of paces all the way to the Aid Station at Hells Gate, location of the Yeet Ramp.

Hot dogs were a most welcome treat.  More than most.  Mostest.

And then we were all rolling again...

l-r; me, Drew, Watts, and Ian.   Without those two leading the way, we would have either been out there much longer staring at our phones or just given up.  I honestly don't know if we coulda figured out all this on our own:

Where my Wahoo died to the finish, 37 miles of which "way do we go now?"

That's not to say that the last third or so of the ride was without its challenges.  Drew's computer died, and at certain points, we were just down to Ian having operational equipment.   Our group grows and shrinks in numbers as people around us rally or falter.  One moment, someone is falling off the back, and on the next trail, they're blazing the path.  We did take the risk of losing our guides when we stopped at a creek crossing for a beer hand up, but Ian and Drew waited on us... so nice.

Anyways, we stick with Ian and Drew all the way to the finish, where I let promoter Emily know that we have no data, we're 99% sure we missed something anyways... but we're alive (sorta) and happy (to be done).

With time to Monday morning quarterback it, I can figure out some things and can't others.

By looking at Trailforks and my THREE separate ride files I have, a wrong turn at a crucial moment saw us in the wrong place.  We missed about two miles but added approximately a mile and a half... so we rode about 108 of the intended full 108.5 miles on the day.  I will not be ashamed of that.

For some odd reason, when I powered on my Wahoo and connected it to my phone at home, it said the Virginia map was "queuing."  Huh?  It was fully up the night before the event... I can't figure that one out.

Nor can I determine why Trail Forks thought I was in Massachusetts (not synced) instead of Virginia (definitely synced).

When I got the pre-race email, it was hard for me to sort it out to see which information would matter and how to apply it in my inevitable future.  I now know what I'd wanna jot down and keep handy w/o having to pull up the email and skim it on the trail.

Battery life.  Dammit. 

From the email:

"... your Strava file for this ride is your proof of completion! Protect it, keep it running, keep your phone battery alive. Consider packing a backup battery brick to keep all those electronics charged."

Duh.  I've never had my battery drain so fast on a ride with a route running.  I still can't explain it, but that said, I have plenty of charging blocks and will not find myself in this situation in the future.

Yeth, the future.  I have to go back to the Mountain Cat 100.  It was just such an awesome event, and Richmond is absolutely wonderful.  The amount of support was insane, and the volunteers and riders are a whole bunch of good eggs.  Obviously, I'll never be able to "race" this event, but I think that's the point.  It's a full day of adventure and smiles.  It's just that good.

Even if it's one hundred AND EIGHT miles long.  

Mountain Cat 100 '23: Part One

So glad to finally be started on this glorious day.

As to be expected, this tale will not adhere to a strict chronological order, as it was a blur.

We manage to attach ourselves to the back of the "tryers" as we crossed the Nickel Bridge over the James River.  We're stuck behind a slower rider when we dive into the trails, and when they finally let us come around, we'd lost sight of the group ahead... so I made my first of our many wrong turns of the day.  Get back in the congo line and it's nut to butt as we work our way along real trails to rutted moto tracks to...

I don't remember when or exactly where, but we come to a fork in the trail and a line up waiting to continue forward.  To the left is "Roll the Dice" and to the right "Over/Under... something or something."  The former seemed like a gamble, and the latter seemed to be the choice most were making, so we line up for our turn.

It's a massive hump shaped log crossing a deep ravine.  I oochy scooch my way out until I start to panic due to my unreasonable fear of heights.  I can see the folks who "rolled the dice" on the opposite bank below me with their much safer option.  I turn back and run into Watts five feet behind me.

"I can't do it."

"What are you going to do then?"

I see nothing but a line of people behind Watts with nowhere to go.  There is no going back.  There is no jumping down into the uncertain brush below.  Dammit.

I hate the world at this moment, but I just remind myself this isn't quite as insane as the shambled train trestles at La Ruta, so whatever.  

I got over it, but I still hated it.

First Aid Station and Watts and I split an Egg McMuffin.  Our navigation has been "okay," but highly reliant on just following wheels.  We continue on the long road slog out to Pocahontas State Park with a group all the way to Aid Two.  Along the way, I notice that my Wahoo (our only data acquisition and best navigational device) is down to 64% battery after only thirty miles.  I start thinking about how to conserve power, and I turn my phone to airplane mode and remove my hear rate strap because... Bluetooth?  Dunno.  Watts decides to destroy a bathroom in a gas station across the road from the Aid Station, and after giving it some thought, I concur this feel. 

An amount of time goes by.  We reenter the course.

These trails are a pile of spaghetti.  Some start and stop all in the same areas.  Others, we end up doing twice.  You can follow other riders, but you won't know what they've done already or if they even know where to go.  We followed a group for a short bit on a trail we weren't supposed to do yet only to have to turn around.  Eventually, we found ourselves on a trail that everyone around us agreed was the right way only to have my route disappear from my Wahoo.  

gawdammit

I ask the gravel bike guy that I'm near about all that, and he assures me that the course was loaded on one of the days when the trail is ridden in the other direction, so the GPS track isn't going to jive.

super

I drop him at some point, can't see Watts behind me, and I sit up and wait.  Gravel bike guy starts to catch up to me and...

"Have you seen my little friend?"

"The other guy with the pink wheels?  Yeah, he's back there throwing up."

awesome

Watts eventually comes riding up, and he confirms that yes, his 1/2 McMuffin, donut, Gatorade and whatever else he'd consumed in the last couple hours were now on the side of the trail.  Oof.  Catch back up to gravel bike guy, and he assures me that we're essentially on our way out of the park... such and such trail to some other trail and... should be back at the Aid Station soon.  We ride off and...

My GPS track is just gone.  It's the third or fourth time today, but there was usually someone local there to reassure us that we're going the correct way.  Now, we have nothing.  We end up back here:

The absolute nexus of a billionty trails... many of which we'd already ridden.  My track is 100% not showing up, there's scads of people up here either just out riding or Mountain Catting but are they at mile 34, 35, 39, 45... ?

Watts is lying down on a park bench.  He says we'll figure it out... but hold on.  I'm looking at the track on Ride with GPS, but it's a strobing, not-so-interactive mess.  I don't know where to go and/or why we're here.  I try to pull up Trail Forks... and it tells me I haven't downloaded Massachusetts?  Whuh?

Watts vomits some more.  The children in the area find us fascinating.

So here's what we're dealing with:

* Watts's stomach is revolting.
* We know where we are on planet Earth, but not where we are on the course.
* My Wahoo is at 20% forty something miles into a hundred and eight mile day.
* We're not going to have a legit file to prove that we finished no matter what we do.
* We don't know who to ask how to continue from here.

What we do know is that we're sixteen miles from our Airbnb.  If we quit now, we can shower, nap... make it to whatever official/unofficial after party might occur.  We can figure that much out, but no matter what, we're not going to finish.

The best  plan we can come with is that we can get back to Aid Two (which is Aid Three when you're leaving the park) in our own particular idiom, refuel, and then follow the route back to Richmond using the remainder of my battery power... assuming it puts us back on the route.

Assuming.

Mountain Cat 100 '23: Predumble.

Friday.  June 2nd.

12:30PM: I'm bored. I've taken the day off work, but I can't leave for Richmond, VA yet because Watts says he can't be scooped up in Greensboro until 3:00PM.  I've already mowed the lawn, watched the final episode of Ted Lasso, and eaten second breakfast.  Pacing around the house looking for my misplaced Dynaplug tool is getting old.

12:45PM: Leave.  Screw it.  I'll just get up to Revolution Cycles and wander around Watts's shop looking at schwanky Brooks bike bags, unstuck stickers, and random artwork until he can join me in the Fit of Rage for the drive up to Richmond.

2:20PM: Arrive at Revolution Cycles.  Watts is waiting for an employee to arrive at 3:00PM to relieve him of his duties.  I peruse his wares, drink a beer, and load up on expired nutrition products.

3:00PM: No relief arrives.

3:30PM: Relief arrives.  We skedaddle shortly thereafter.

6:52PM: Arrive at our very small, entirely humble unlocked Airbnb.  My only priority is to get my shit straight before we head into the city in search of food and fun... and to get Watts to finally download the route to his Wahoo.  The "course" takes you all over the city, through neighborhoods and cemeteries, along railroad tracks, on pirate trails and official trails, seventeen miles outta town to ride fifteen miles of spaghetti in the Pocahontas State Park and back for a lot more of all the former.  The route is crucial... and without a complete ride file when you get done, you will not officially finish.  While Watts gets the info loaded into his bleep bloop device, I lay all my shit out and get the coffee sorted out for the morning.

7:20PM: Tasks completed, we head out into town in the least efficient manner to Scuffletown Park... where we needed to be at 7:00PM.

The business man handling his business en route.

We were hoping to watch some sorta organized crit racing... only to find out that they already rolled out from there to another location... River... something... Park?  We take a guess that it's over in Riverview Cemetery, ride right back past our Airbnb, and we are somehow correct.  We get to see a little bit of the action and obtain a decent recommendation from Mountain Cat 100 promoter Emily to eat our late dinner at 821 Cafe.

8:47: "Dining in or take out?"  

Dining in.  Take our table, order a beer... some food.  Realize they close at 9:00PM, and we're the assholes.  Dammit.  Make haste with our delicious sammies, pound the second beer, and ask for a recommendation for a place to get our third while they're cleaning up behind us.  

"You guys should go to Get Tight."

"I think you're better of with Cobra Cabana."

It was from this point on, we fell into a wormhole.  We ride over to what we think is the Cobra Cabana, and there's a punk show going on.  I know Watts could spend the entire night here and be content, whilst I would probably hold my beer in my right hand and plug my only good ear with my left until he let me go home.  Watts, sensing my anxiety, decided mebbe we just go to Get Tight.

We end up being there past the point where it made sense.  Watts had found some Happy Meal drink special of a low ABV house beer with a shot of tequila which made economical sense but not actual smart sense.  Police lights across the street gave a nice strobing ambience to this quaint little bar.  Watts mighta opened the unlocked any sex bathroom and made a friend.  He coaxed me into another beer after I'd already closed out.  Then another.  Some time after 11:00PM, his final drink order was supposed to be just the low ABV house beer, but the bartender who looked like a young Mary-Louise Parker from Weeds just assumed he'd wanted his "usual," so more tequila.

Saturday.  June 3rd.

12:00AM'ish: We're back at the Airbnb.  I figure out that we have to get up at 4:45AM... and Watts disagrees until he agrees.

4:45AM: Jeebus.  That came quick.  I bolt right outta bed, head to the kitchen, and turn the coffee on.  Watts remains in bed.  Eventually, we're both on the couch watching a YouTube show about Russian oligarch yachts.  Me eating my premade PNB sammich.  Watts blowing his nose.

5:30AM:  I don't know why, but it finally dawned on my that we realistically need to be rolling the mile and a half over to the start in fifteen minutes or less.  We still need to check in and stuff... and Watts isn't even dressed yet.  I share my concerns with him.  He kits up.

5:41AM: "I can't find my Wahoo."

*sigh*

For the next five minutes, we shit-toss the 700 square foot house looking for Watts's bleep bloop.  Nothing. It's as if it, like our good judgment, just vanished in the night.  Poop.

5:47AM: "We need to go."

I turn on my Wahoo to navigate to the start of the loaded route... and the map doesn't come up. No streets.  No nothing.  Just the little arrows dangling out there in two dimensional space telling me where we'll eventually go... if we can get there.  I literally turned on my data acquisition device last night to confirm all was well... and the streets and such were all there eleven hours ago.  Now, nothing.

Time is now dead to me (like 50% of the functionality of my Wahoo), and we get to the Dogwood Dell Amphitheater in time to check in.

"Did you eat breakfast?"

Apparently Watts was so laser focused on the Russian oligarch yacht show that my consumption of a sammich next to him on the capacious love seat didn't register.

He had eaten nothing, but the magic of Mountain Cat hand delivered him a glazed donut as if he mentally Door Dashed it into existence.  They lined up the Mountain Cat XL (130'ish miles) folks and sent them off.  Then the people who were intent on "racing" the standard 108 mile route embarked on their journey, leaving just those that planned on "finishing" standing around in the park.  There was a hot minute while we stood there with our thumbs up our butts, and I realized the worst we could do would be to keep the back of the tryers in sight whilst having many tourists behind us to fall back on for navigational assistance.  

So just like that, we unceremoniously began our journey.