Team Camp 2010

The morning of the Darkhorse training camp started at Alex's house, a central place for all, in the dark at 5:50 AM. We finally got loaded up and set out around 6:30, seven guys, two vehicles. We drove south on 75 for Gatlinburg, happy and excited. We stopped at Cracker Barrel for what Chris described as breakfast cooked in butter, and arrived at a Chic FilA in Gatlinburg around 1:00 PM. After lunch we headed to the spot where the casual afternoon ride would begin.

There is a crossroad where a vacant BP station is across from a new grocery store, distinguished by the words "Bulk Food" on the facade. We asked the kindly lady if we could possibly change our clothes and park our cars in their lot. She was kind enough to offer the new, state-of-the-art restrooms in the adjacent building for us to change but suggested we find somewhere else to park--no problem: vacant BP across the street. After getting changed (taking over both the mens and ladies facilities) we setup in the gravel lot next to the BP, and set out from there.

The first inkling that there may be some problems was the couple of snow flakes that flurried around as we pumped our tires. Not to worry, a couple of flurries never hurt anyone. We rode off happy to finally be on the road and out of the car. Dan forgot his water bottles; no problem, he went back to get them and we soft pedaled till he and Chris caught back on, and we were off. The snow had picked up.

We were riding well (I was trying like hell not to get spit out the back in the first 5 miles) and we came around one corner and I looked up at a snow-covered mountain and I said something like "That's pretty cool looking". That was the only cool looking thing I remember seeing all day. Did I mention that it was snowing? Not flurrying, snowing. No problem though a light snow never hurt anyone.

It was mile 15 when we stopped and Dan, the man with the map, said well we can turn back now or we can keep going. If we keep going we will have another 30 miles. I never heard how quickly we could get back, because I wanted to keep going, and I didn’t listen to anything about going back. Finally I think 6 of us voted for going on, and I don’t remember any strong protests. Chip was going to be so proud of us!!

I think it was 3 miles later that I got a flat on the front wheel. No problem, Brett came back, everyone stopped and he had my tire ready to go in no time, telling me to relax and let him serve me (he said something about it being like washing my feet).

We were off again (after I went back and got my glasses that I left on the ground). Did I mention that it was snowing? Oh and just about now I started to notice something: The snow was not sticking to the roads, it was melting. The roads were warmer than the air, so the snow was hitting the warm road and melting. No problem though. I remember Nate saying “At least it is not cold and raining.” True.

We rode on, and got on a road that was very busy. Someone said that there was a sign that said “Bike Route”--I didn’t see it. But the there were a lot of cars. I stayed in back with my flashing taillight, Alex and I were the only ones with tail lights, and my Planet Bike Super Flash was by far brighter. It was snowing and overcast and the road was busy. Doug stayed in front because he can, and because he was having problems moving over with all of the traffic.

Finally we turned left to the roar of irritated traffic behind us. This was a road along a creek and it was the first time that I noticed that there were big puddles. Not just damp roads but wet roads with big puddles. No problem.

We rode on.

At this point we had been attacked by maybe two dogs. We climbed away from the creek on a narrow road with little traffic, but lots of dogs. It seems like we were chased two or three times on this road. The snow continued, the roads got wetter, and I am not sure but I think it was getting colder.

It was here that there was a climb, not crazy steep, but it left Nate and me at the back on the descent. Nate said “I think I have a flat.” We slowed to look and it looked to me like his front may be losing air, we slowed some more, and then he said “My back is definitely flat.” So I said “Ok, I will let the guys know.” I looked up to see them disappear around a bend in the road. When I could see them I whistled, I can whistle a lot louder than I can yell. When they weren’t stopping, I just figured they couldn’t hear me so I rode on, knowing that they would stop eventually. At this point I was in no-mans-land. Do I turn around and go back to help Nate? Or keep riding so that they at least know what is going on? After I got past another dog attack, I opted for continuing on. When I rode up at an intersection where they had stopped to wait and told them that Nate had a flat “way back there”, Alex informed me that it would have been a smaller problem for everyone if I just would have rode my bike faster—point taken.

We resolved to turn around, after a discussion of splitting up (bad idea). At least it was downhill back. We arrived at Nate with both wheels off and his bike lying in the ditch. Turns out that Nate had no tire irons, and his hands were too cold to pry the wheel off. It was about 10 minutes before we were ready to go. Did I mention it was snowing? I really didn’t realize how much until I saw Dan brush snow off of his saddle before he got on. I looked at mine and sure enough that was a nice covering of snow.

When we started back up, I was COLD. My fingers were so cold that I couldn’t feel them shift. I knew I shifted because it got harder or easier to pedal, but I could not feel it in my fingers. Nate commented that now it finally made sense how people could get frost bite. I told him it wasn’t cold enough to get frost bite, it was only 31 degrees—for the record I have no idea whether I was right, but it made sense, and I think he believed me.

We got back to the intersection where they had waited for me and I think I heard Dan say, as he was hunched over the Garmin, “12 more miles.” No problem. Freezing temperatures, snow, wet roads, ice caked on my bike, dogs—miles 34 to 45 were going to be easy.

The road spray. It was now that road spray started to become annoying. It was there before, but I didn’t really notice it. Now it became a real pain. I think that this realization coincided with the water in my shoes. My feet were completely soaked and I decided that this road spray had to have something to do with it. When I had to take my glasses off because of the ice that was caked to the lenses, I realized that it must have been getting colder. I vaguely heard Nate cursing the Red cassette that is machined from a single piece of metal and was caked full of ice, forcing him to ride in his small chainring and 28 cog in the back. He had a pretty high cadence. Nate reminded me that he was glad it wasn’t raining earlier, but now it was the road spray acted like rain and the snow kept coming.

Twelve miles. Had to be less than that now. I came to another intersection and heard Dan say “right turn.” I may have heard homestretch, or thought I heard it, or wished I heard it. Dan passed me. Chris passed me. Doug passed me. Alex passed me. This was becoming a trend. Back in no-mans-land, riding alone separated from the Alex in front and Brett encouraging Nate to keep fast pedaling behind. I came around a corner; it had to be less than 4 miles now. A downhill. Shift into the big chainring and…..wait, something’s not right. Hey why is that front derailleur hanging in my chain like that? I pulled over at a corner. Sure enough, it came off. Well, if I can just thread the bolt back on enough to hold it out of the way, I can ride the last less-than-4 miles. Try. Try again. Here comes Nate and Brett. In disbelief at my predicament Nate stopped; Brett kept going.

Nate is standing watching my futile efforts, while Brett is about 50 yards up the road having a conversation with some random person on the porch of his trailer. Brett rides up to us and says that it is only 1.5 miles to the vacant BP and that he really believes that this man who had given him this information would be more than happy to let all three of us come inside. I looked up at Brett and it all made sense: His eyes were sunk in his head, he was shivering, he was hypothermic, and he was completely serious.

I decided that the only way I was going to get back was to take the derailleur off. So I unscrewed the little screw at the back and loosened the cable bolt and it came right off. Wrapped the cable around my bottle cage and we were off.

I looked at a family on the porch of their trailer as we rode past. They stared as if to say: "These tourists get stupider every year."

As I rode, I noticed that something was rubbing against my front tire—the ice-covered front-derailleur cable was hanging under my down tube slapping against the tire. Wow! If that gets tangled in the my front wheel that will be a problem—it didn’t.

We arrived at the cars safely.

Now off to the cabin. Drive up the mountain road. Turn on the cabin road and stop. Turns out the road to the cabin is steep, and it had been snowing there too. Some 12 others had attempted to get to their cabin, and had slid off the road into the ditch, the road was closed and would be opened until Saturday some time.

So, we had a choice: Find a Laundromat and a hotel willing to accept 7 filthy bikes, or go home.

Over dinner, the group decided that home sounded pretty good. And we all jump in the cars and headed north on 75. Nate and I arrived at his house at 1:00 AM. Ten+ hours of driving, 3 hours of riding made for a full day.

I can’t speak for everyone, but I had a great time.