Crush the Commonwealth 2012 Preliminaries

[Aside: wow, I thought I was going to keep up with this blog thing. Shows what I know...]

So, CtC Eve-Eve is upon us, and frenzied last-minute preparations are in full swing. Shockingly, I'm relatively well prepared: my TODO for the next 24 hours is a mere dozen items or so. That said, the process of watching the weather forecast gradually degrade from "60s and partly cloudy" to "30s and you'd better be wearing wool" is causing a bit of packlist consternation. Ah well, just adds to the joy of this event. :-)

I still need to do some final bike maintenance; unlike prior years, however, this means "lube the chain" as opposed to "rebuild the drivetrain." Packing is mostly sorted, thanks to a dry run on last weekend's abortive 300K.

The game plan this year is a bit different; given that the weather looks like it's gonna be craptastic in spots, I'm not focusing on setting a course or personal record. Instead, I'm planning to ride with others (at least fellow recumbent pilot Tom Hovan) audax-style, so as to maximize enjoyment and minimize the chances of despairing hypothermic death in the boonies outside Somerset. I'm still planning for a Saturday finish, but likely late evening as opposed to late afternoon. That said, if we're feeling perky, I'm not at all appalled at the idea of gulping some caffeine in Bedford and trying to push through the night. Minimizing time spent riding in miserable weather sounds like a fine thing.

Equipment-wise, I'm riding the MetaBike instead of the P-38; I'm happy enough with its performance over the past couple of months that it seems like the better choice for this course. Fendered 35mm Marathon Racers in 700c seem like a good choice, given the amount of poor pavement and wet limestone to be traversed.



Like last year, I'll make some feeble attempt to post on-road updates every few hours: watch the other blog for  blurred thumb pictures and pity^H^H^H^Hpithy text.

Crush The Commonwealth 2011

The faces of midnight ultracycling, complete with nonplussed background normal people. Bill and Lane at the Chambersburg Waffle House.

Ah, Crush the Commonwealth. A lovely informal race 'twixt Pittsburgh and Philadelphia. This was my third time participating, and I'm happy to report that it was every bit as much fun as the first two years.

Ride Reports and Photos
Eric G.'s report
Various reports in the CtC blog comments here and here

Tom Oswald's report

Short Version

• 403.28 miles door to door, ~15.6mph rolling average, 33:24 total elapsed time for the race itself.
• My group took second place...for the second year in a row, the Tressler brothers set the gold standard for Commonwealth-crushing, with an impressive new west-to-east record of 28:28.
• No mechanicals, no serious physical ailments or cataclysmic bonking, no problems with other road users.
• The weather pretty much sucked the entire first day, in a low-grade water torture sort of way.

Long Version

Preliminaries

Before the race itself, a few last minute preparations had to be made. I had to change my nutrition strategy (Perpetuem for the next 36 hours? Blah!), rewire my dynamo light (What can possibly go wrong?), and pick up Tom in Altoona. All of the above were more-or-less successful.

Once Tom and I were back in da 'Burgh, we prepped the bikes as much as possible, staged everything for the next morning, and set alarms for dear-lord-o' clock in the AM. A few minutes of sitting around chatting (while I surreptitiously watched to see if my cats would induce a violent allergic reaction in Tom), and it was off to bed at the positively civilized hour of 10 PM or thereabouts.

Ride Start/Neutral Roll to McKeesport

3:45 AM. Yeesh. What a positively uncivilized hour to start a ride. While Tom coolly followed through on his preparations, I stumbled around half-blind with fatigue, eventually managing to shove some granola in my mouth and clothes on my body. We walked out the door, pulled the bikes out of the garage, prepared to clip in, and WHOOSH came the rain. The ensuing profanity, though muffled in deference to sleeping neighbors, was truly heartfelt.

Fortunately, the heavy bit of the rain lasted only long enough to ensure our utter soakage by the time we arrived at the Point. We were the first to arrive, apparently. Tom hung out under the bridge in the park, whilst I rolled up to the Smithfield News 24-hour inconvenience store for donuts and a cup of coffee. Saw one cyclist inbound, and a few more converging towards the park as I returned.

Once back, I was happy to see that several other friends were present. Lane G. from the DC Randos, Bill H. and Dan G. of the Pittsburgh Randos, and Frank "the Sophinator" (on his snazzy-to-the-nth-degree Baron with the custom-cut reflective tape flames) had arrived by then. Eric McKeegan rolled up shortly as well, and kicked off the festivities at 5:11 (the earliest time I can recall the ride starting).

We kept the neutral roll simple...straight up Second Ave to the Hot Metal Bridge, then 837 all the way to the McKeesport Bridge. It was a fast group this year, and we managed to keep a nice 15-16 mph pace the whole way. In McKeesport, Eric and a few others peeled off at the convenience store; the Tressler brothers vanished off the front so fast that they actually began to age slower than the rest of us, and the game was on. A bit of confusion regarding the initial route led to a hillier-than-planned road to Boston, but then we could settle back and enjoy 90 miles of pleasant limestone rail-trail.

GAP Trail to Rockwood

The GAP was so boring that you could just read my description from 2009:

The less said about the trail, the better. That said, I'll now talk about how much I dislike that many miles of limestone: I dislike it lots and lots. To be fair, it was in better shape than I had expected and feared; the previous week's worth of rain had merely turned some spots into wheel-sucking phlegm, rather than the entire trail. Still, after the first 50 miles of trail, I was really quite ready to be done. Shame I still had 40 miles to go until getting off at Rockwood..

The only real addition I will make is to say that the 10 miles before Rockwood, which in 2009 were merely sticky, had this year degraded into a fine mix of kitty litter and Skippy peanut butter, basted with a fine topping of drivetrain-wrecking twigs.

Not too soul-crushing, all things considered. Stopped twice as much as planned (Connellsville and Ohiopyle), and was greeted by Travis (of Recumbent Journal fame) and camera crew at Rockwood. A quick stop at the convenience store, in fruitless hopes of finding a hose with which to spray the trail off the drivetrain, and we (myself, Bill, Lane, and Eric) were off for Somerset.

Rockwood to Somerset

I'd forgotten that Water Level Rd is not actually level. Aside from that, it was a quick and pain-free jaunt on blissfully dry pavement to the Sheetz in Somerset (albeit with a bit of a detour prompted by one of the numerous PA Bike Route Fungus decoy signs). There, we briefly saw the Tresslers before they next engaged their sublight engines and disappeared into the ether...we also saw Eric's buddies from Philly, one of whom was in a poor state. After a truly tasty Sheetz burrito and assorted sundry other comestibles, we girded our collective loins and set off on the hilliest portion of the route.

Somerset to Breezewood

It was on this stretch, specifically the long twisty descent into New Baltimore, that I finally remembered that cycling is fun. Part of the glee was remembering climbing that monster last year; part of it was merely due to a fortuitous parting of clouds and enjoying of some watery sunshine for the first time in weeks. I caught up to Lane and the gang here (shockingly, the fat guy on the 'bent fell behind on the hills out of Somerset)...we paused briefly in Bedford at the Giant Eagle for a bathroom break and some fluids, before making our way through Garret to the short hilly transit to Breezewood.

In Breezewood, we paused at (surprise! surprise!) Sheetz for refreshments; not only did we see Travis again, but, whilst casually marvelling at the pace the Tresslers were keeping, we were told by a nearby woman that she was married to one of them. Heh.

Thankfully, we had made good time thus far, so we were confident in our ability to get through the abandoned turnpike tunnels before dark. It was a long haul from Breezewood to the bustling metropolis of Chambersburg, so we made sure to top up on food and water.

Breezewood to Chambersburg

As we prepared to leave Sheetz, it became apparent that making a left turn across three lanes of traffic onto Rte 30 was a fool's errand. So, scofflaws that we are, we made highly illegal use of the shoulder to ride contraflow for a couple of blocks, until we could break free of the press of traffic and cut over to the proper lane.

A quarter-mile down Rte 30 is Tannery Rd...the goat path to access the abandoned turnpike starts at the corner there. (Note to trikers or users of wheelchairs...the access to the turnpike is, uh, not ADA compliant, to put it mildly. We all chose to hike-a-bike rather than even attempt a pedal-powered ascent of the gravely morass.) Once at the top, we had the blissful (and novel for all of us) experience of tackling the Pike-To-Bike in full daylight, rendering the crumbling pavement of no real account, and with two high-powered dynamo-driven LED headlamps lighting the tunnels as if it were by automotive high-beams. Absolutely luxurious.

Once we left the Pike, we were a bit dismayed to find that the surface on Pump Station Rd was almost as bad as the surface of the Pike; fortunately, it was only a short jaunt to rejoin Rte S at Hess Rd, whereupon the road surface improved dramatically.

We rolled across the undulating countryside as darkness fell...by the time we reached Burnt Cabins (the start of the climb to Cowan's Gap), night had fallen, and we had all donned our various reflective doodads and powered on our light-emitting-diode thingies. Amusingly, the climb up Cowan's Gap was far easier than I recalled, I suspect hitting it a couple of hours earlier than last time, in better physical condition, may have played some part in flattening out the hill.

After clearing the Gap and plummeting down the other side (a muffled yee-haw or three may have escaped my lips at some point), we made our way to Rte 30 and Chambersburg, stopping only occasionally to pee behind the odd Dumpster. In Chambersburg, we had a lovely breakfast at the Waffle House, then made our way down the road to the Days Inn where I had cleverly reserved a room. "Clever" is a relative term, because I had reserved the room for two people, one of whom wasn't even in the current group of four. Ah well...I left a key at the front desk for Tom, told the others to leave a bed clear for him, caught a blissful hot shower and clean pair of shorts, and collapsed into a heap of carrion for a good 90 minutes. Heaven, in budget-hotel form.

[Note to readers: as usually happens when I don't type up a ride report in timely fashion, the latter bits degenerate into a blurred list of convenience stores...my apologies in advance.]

Chambersburg to York

Upon awakening in reasonably non-surly fashion, we staggered across the street to Sheetz, fueled up on various overpriced, over-processed delicacies, and began the long climb up 30 to Michaux State Park and Rt 234. While a bit unpleasant in the throes of early morning malaise, this particular climb is a notable landmark; once we turn off 30 onto 234, and conquer a couple of short orchard climbs, the route is pretty much downhill all the way to Philly. Burning along 234 in the high teens and low twenties was a glorious relief after yesterday's slog.

We stopped at (NOT Sheetz!) a Rutter's 24-hour convenience store midway between Chambersburg and York, mostly to take advantage of their restroom. I was starting to enter a bad state where I knew I should eat, but didn't want to put anything anywhere near my mouth...Lane's suggestion of a random parfait proved to be a good one, as choking it down re-activated that switch in my head labeled "Food==Good Idea."

After passing through York proper, we stopped again at the Maple Donuts on 462. At this point, I was vacillating between sticking with the group and going on ahead, as hitting my 32-hour target was still within my grasp. I decided that, since we'd ridden the entire thing together thus far, I'd be happier sticking together and finishing with the group in 33-34 hours, rather than going solo for barely sub-32.

York to Morgantown

In hindsight, I'm really glad I stuck with the group. While passing through the gorgeously scenic riding country in Lancaster, I found myself blowing up pretty good on Weavertown Road. Not a full-on bonk, but at least a close relation. Limped into Morgantown and made a beeline for the first mini-mart I saw (Turkey Hill, in this case), and shoveled a fairly disgusting amount of crap down my throat, washed down with several varieties of fruit juice, milk, and carbonated beverage. Bonk averted, we continued on our merry way, on the final leg of the route before the trail.

Morgantown to SRT

The approach to Valley Forge via Phoenixville was reasonably pain free. There was a bit of confusion and bonus mileage near the turn for Coldstream Rd; also, the first trailhead encountered on the route is NOT the correct one...the correct one is about 1/4 mile further down the road, and involves acres of parking lot; the incorrect one involves fighting off wolves and portaging your bike over old minefields. You Have Been Warned.

Anyway, we finally found the trail. With a brief pause to pee (modesty be damned...those other trail users can't possibly see anyone peeing behind a tree of a good 4" diameter...), we set off at a nice mellow pace down the SRT. Time-wise, we were on track for a comfortable 33+ hour finish, so no-one was feeling any pressure to rush. Besides, the SRT, in nice weather, on an early Saturday afternoon, is heavily trafficked enough to make rushing ill-advised. (Unless one is a tri-dork in the aerobars, in which case you apparently are automatically issued a dispensation from riding with any concern for or awareness of other trail users.)

Liberty Bell

Rolling up to the Bell was almost anticlimactic...my prior CtC endeavors had accustomed me to feeling an utter wreck upon completion. This time around, while I was certainly tired, I didn't feel the overwhelming urge to dive head-first onto the grass and pass out for a few hours. We milled around for a bit, took a couple of photos, then diverged on our respective merry ways.

Left to right: Lane G., me, Eric G., Bill H. Photo credit: Eric G.'s camera in Lane's buddy's capable hands

Post-ride

The remainder of the weekend can be summarized as follows: meander through Philly to the hotel out by the airport, call home, SHOWER, amble over to Denny's for ~4000 calories, amble over to WaWa for a pint of Ben&Jerry's, amble back to hotel, stare at TV for a solid 30 minutes, sleep, wake up, have breakfast at hotel, have second breakfast at Denny's with Tom and Penny, drive to Altoona, swap cars, drive home with Tom, kiss kids, kiss wife, pet cats, sleep. A fine way to end the weekend.

Lessons Learned/Thoughts for the Future

• I'm developing a case of randopaparazzi envy; after riding with so many gifted photographers in the last few years, I'm feeling the lack. I want to investigate proper techniques and equipment for on-ride photography.
• It was refreshing, and rather pleasant, to finish CtC without feeling utterly shattered. I was certainly tired, but, unlike prior years, wasn't wiped out; also, with the exception of a very mild bit of tendinitis in the left ankle, I've had no physical aftereffects whatsoever. Perhaps a bit of introspection as regards conservation of effort compared to results is in order.
• The biggest mistake I made this year was to not more carefully monitor my nutrition. 'Twas not the end of the world, but there were several low patches that, in hindsight, were almost certainly due to inadequate food intake.
• As counterpoint to the nutrition theme, I relied significantly less on pseudo-food in the form of Perpetuem; I used it for the night-time stretches, but that was about it.
• I need to dial back on the "gone all weekend" rides a bit...I want to see my family once in a while, and especially don't want the various projects that Owen and I have started to lie fallow.

CTC 2011 To-Do

1) Service the filthy pile of rust that was a bike before the Band of Bents Fleche.
1a) Replace front/rear brake pads
1b) Replace frayed front shift cable
1c) Tune up rear shifting, check cable and housing for wonkiness.
1d) Roll dice to determine if rear tire should be replaced. (Somewhat worn tire==more fender clearance==less rubbing grit on limestone trail, new tire==less chance of flats. Chronic low-grade annoyance versus potential serious annoyance...)
1e) Adjust front derailleur to eliminate chain rub.
2) Format/print general cue sheet, probably based on the one Tom put together (Overview of major roads is worthwhile, just in case signs go missing.)
3) Review packing list, repack sundry bags.
4) Bag up post-ride care package with clean civvies, shoes, and whatnot.
5) Confirm sleep arrangements.
6) Confirm travel buddy arrangements.

At the moment, the long-range weather forecast looks quite promising all the way across the state. I think I'll stop checking it now, so as to preserve some illusions.

CTC FAQ

Just 'cause, I put together a FAQ for Crush the Commonwealth.

Enjoy.

Let me know of any questions, requests for clarification, or suggestions for extra stuff to include.

CTC 2011 Planning

It's winter here in the 'Burgh, with another few inches of snow on the way so what better time to fantasize about my plans for Crush The Commonwealth 2011?

I've got some feeble hopes of breaking 32 hours this year, unlike my third-place 37 hours last year, or my first-place 36 hour finish in 2009. So long as I don't screw around at rest stops, maintain a decent pace, and keep my sleep time to a couple of hours, that should be well within my capabilities. If I stay calm through Chambersburg, I may be able to hammer pretty well for the last 150 miles, as the route trends fairly smoothly downhill: ideal for a (*ahem*) dense guy on an aero bike.

With regards to gear, I'm going to try to go a bit lighter this time around. Nothing crazy, but I'll cut down the extra clothing to a spare pair of shorts ands socks, instead of the full change I carried last year. I've got nutrition pretty dialed in at this point: a 4-hour bottle of Perpetuem and 70 oz bladder of water with Camelbak Elixir tabs should get me through each leg. Bike-wise, I'm gonna try out a compact 50/34 crank instead of my prior 52/42/30 triple; by bumping the cassette from an 11-32 to an 11-34, I doubt I'll feel any more pain on the low end than I usually do.

Here's a reasonably accurate route map/elevation plot:


And my basic ride plan:

Crush the Commonwealth 2010

(Now with 30% more E P I C, when compared to last year's edition)

Ride Reports on the CtC blog
Eric's ride report: Day 1, Day 2

Short version

• 380-ish miles, ~37:30 elapsed time.
• Third finisher, behind the Tressler brothers who came in together at an awe-inspiring 34:48.
• 1 mechanical (flatted)
• No physical or emotional harm done.
• Much Type 2 fun was had. No, not that type of fun; that type of fun.
• The P-38's drive train and brakes are pretty much trashed.
  

Long Version

The Plan
Not much to it. Make it through the abandoned turnpike tunnels before dark, push through to at least Bedford before sleeping, and wrap up at the Point in under 36 hours. Try to only stop once every 65 miles or so, and keep stops under 15 minutes until the sleep stop.

Prologue, Thursday May 6^th
For some reason, I had decided it would be a spiffy idea to rent a U-haul to transport myself, sundry other CtC participants, and various bikes from Philly to Pittsburgh. So, I rode over through West View and down Babcock to the U-haul place on McKnight. There awaited my glorious steed; a cargo-hauling behemoth, with fuel economy measured in gallons per mile, seating three in discomfort. At least I got it at the 10-footer price.

Threw the P-38 in the back, with a few strategic bungees to keep everything in place, then drove back to my place to load Joh-doh's bike and meet Bill. Bill parked, we threw his bike in as well, then drove over to Shaler to pick up Jim on the way to the turnpike.

The Turnpike itself wasn't bad...we only stopped twice, so made good time. Hitting Philly was unlovely, however, as I'd arranged to meet Joh-doh and Nick at the Amtrak station on 30th and Market. At roughly 5:30 on a work day. In a vehicle roughly the size of Rhode Island. WhatthehellwasIsmoking?

(To digress briefly; driving in downtown Philly makes me, frankly, apeshit. The manner in which people casually block an intersection is appalling; what makes it worse is that said behavior practically forces you to drive like a self-obsessed lump of douchebaggery yourself, in order to make any progress at all. I had to sit through three cycles of the light by the train station, no doubt driving those behind me into fits of foaming rage, before I got pissed enough to do what everyone else was and just wedge myself into the intersection. Meh. A pox upon them all.)

Traffic chaos aside, I got Jim and Bill unloaded, then reunited Joh-doh with his bike. (I had thrown a front fender from my spares stash on there for him, and he seemed quite pleased.) Fought my way over to Manayunk, dropped off the U-haul, precariously strapped my box-of-crap-to-be-shipped-home onto the seat back bag, and pedaled carefully to cousin-in-law Carrie's place a few miles away. She was kind enough to put me up for the night, as well as tolerant enough not to mind me getting up at O-Gawd o'clock on a work day. Although I usually have a great deal of trouble sleeping the first night in a strange location, I had cleverly brought along a tome on developing for and administration of the open-source DotNetNuke Web portal framework, so was yawning in no time.

Day 1, Friday May 7^th
3:15 AM: Amidst various muttered imprecations, I silenced my cellphone's alarm, and blearily prepared for the ride. Poured pseudo-food powder into bottles, plopped pseudo-beverage tablets into Camelbak bladder, pulled on shoes and helmet, pulled off shoes and helmet, pulled on jersey and shorts, pulled on shoes and helmet, and was out the door. A stop at the nearby WaWa for breakfast, then down Ridge to pick up Kelly Drive and the trail into town. Wildlife highlight: a large, healthy-looking fox looked down his nose at me by the river.

4:45 AM: The Bell is mighty deserted. After a few minutes, Jim and Bill arrived; then Dan G. came around the corner and politely informed us that everyone was gathering on the other side of the building. Heh. A few minutes of the usual milling around, then we set off on the neutral rollout to the trail. After, I dunno, 10 miles or so, we'd cleared the confusing bits, so the flag was thrown and suddenly the ride got a little 'spirited'. Myself, the Tressler brothers, and Scott (not riding CtC, but came out to say hi) took the rest of the trail to Phoenixville in the high teens and low twenties.
Got onto the roads and picked up Route S, and the spirited riding continued, until I discovered that the rear end was feeling a little wonky on the turns. Crapola...not 35 miles in, and I've already flatted. Fortunately, I've done this enough that A) it only killed 10 minutes and B) I knew not to stop looking until I'd found the culprit: a tiny piece of wire, roughly 1 gnat's whisker longer than the thickness of my tire, had punched right through and created a lovely pinprick in the tube. Dug out the pliers (don't mock my toolkit...every tool in there "might come in handy some day"), pulled the wire and swapped in a fresh tube, then was back on the road somewhere in the middle of the overall pack. Picked up the pace a bit, and managed to reel in everyone by New Holland (due in no small part to a mechanical on the part of the Tresslers), only to promptly be passed by two groups while I'd stopped at the Getty station for my scheduled refueling. Ah well, the day was yet young....

I kept a good pace across Lancaster and York, until my second stop at the Rutters in East Berlin. Shortly thereafter, the climbing began, roughly at Arendtsville on Rte 234. It's not terribly steep until the end near Caledonia State Park, but it does slow you down a good bit. Finally crested 234 and hit Rte 30 a few miles east of Chambersburg, then enjoyed rush-hour Chambersburg traffic on the way to my third stop at the Sheetz. Stocked up heavily there, as the services would be limited until Breezewood, and both Cowan's Gap and the abandoned turnpike were in the way.

The next leg to Breezewood was actually really nice. To put it into perspective, last year I'd come through here in the opposite direction in darkness; actually being able to see the Gap and the turnpike made it a far more pleasant experience. I do have to confess to a bit of trepidation when approaching the first tunnel; I'd had company for them last year, and was feeling more than a wee bit of boogeyman-in-the-dark jitters as I went in solo. Made it through to Sheetz in Brezewood uneventfully; took a look at the time (roughly 8:30 PM), and decided that I'd just stick to my Bedford rest plan, rather than trying to gut it out to Somerset as I'd been idly thinking to try.

I'm glad I decided not to push, as I'd completely forgotten just how nasty the next few miles would be. The biggest problem, aside from the terrain itself, was one of the few route inconsistencies I found; specifically, the online Route S map specified a left turn, but the sign for Route S at the intersection specified straight. To make things worse, there was a "PA Bike Route Cornucopia" sign, that pointed in the direction of the online Route S map. After dithering, and a couple of bonus miles rolling back and forth, I decided to just follow the Route S signs and not worry about it. Seemed to work out just fine that way.

10:00 PM: Made it into Bedford just as everything had closed, so had to backtrack on 30 to Yet Another Sheetz for dinner. Here, I made my first real nutritional blunder; rather than grab some balanced, healthy, high-calorie, protein-and-carb-laden food, I fell victim to temptation and went with the bag of chips and can of processed dip. I'm quite confident that this led to a serious lack of energy the next morning...Anyway, I strapped my sack o' empty calories to the bike, and rolled up to a lovely $37 stay at the Motel Town House, just a block or two off route in the touristy section of Bedford. Shower, chips and dip, and 20 minutes of heavily edited 'Fight Club' on Bravo, and I was out for the night.

Day 2, Saturday May 8^th
4:00 AM. Not feeling great, but not terribly poorly either, I set out back on the route. Not as cold as I was expecting, fortunately. Maybe I should take off my...and the rain started. Then the temperature dropped. Then the wind hit. And THEN, just a few miles later, the flashbacks to this segment last year began to hit, and I truly understood just how much the next bit was going to suck.

I've said it elsewhere, but it bears repeating. That was a truly soul-crushing segment: the climbing alone was bad, but the high winds, rain, and sub-40 temperatures made it a candidate for Worst 4 Hours On a Bike This Year. The only thing that kept me from throwing in the towel was the realization that I'd have to ride out to civilization to be picked up anyway, so might as well just keep going.

8:00AM: Made it to the Somerset Sheetz, and consumed ludicrous amounts of made-to-order breakfast food while trying to warm up and dry off a bit. I'd reached the point in such rides where I'm getting too eager to tell people where I had started riding and what I was doing, and I noticed that the smiles were starting to glaze and the polite nods of interest were being replaced with slow, careful retreat. So I decided to shut up for a while, and I think everyone was happier as a result.

Reluctantly got back on the road, and (mostly) coasted down Water Level Rd to Rockwood. I still had some feeble hope of cracking 36 hours; that lasted for, perhaps, the first 10 miles on the trail, until I realized that I was so shattered that I could barely push the pedals at 12 mph. I'd like to point out that, to someone with my aversion to limestone, having to endure 90 miles of it at 12 miles per hour is pretty much one of the worst ways to end a ride I can think of.

Regardless, all good(HAH!) things come to an end, and I found myself in McKeesport. Then the next burst of rain hit, and I emitted profanity that was great, and copious, and blasphemous in the eyes of entire PANTHEONS of deities. Then I got over it, briefly enjoyed the new trail and Riverton Bridge, then feebly crept up 837 and back to town. Called Eric from the Point (I have no recollection of the conversation, but I'm sure it happened), and finally rolled down the Ohio and up McClure to home.

Lessons Learned

• Under no circumstances shall I ever drive a U-haul or similar vehicle in downtown Philly during rush hour.
• I'm pretty good for 12-16 hours of a mostly liquid diet; after that, some solid foods every 4 hours or so keep the system happier.
• Don't underestimate the speed-sapping abilities of even the best-packed limestone trails.
• The fuel combination I'd tested at Calvin's Challenge, consisting of three Camelbak Elixir tabs in the 70-ounce bladder, plus Perpetuem in the form of two two-hour bottles, worked very well to enable roughly 100km traveled between stops. I rarely had much wastage when cleaning out the bottles/bladder (yes, I rinsed 'em every time I refilled...no desire for foul cooties to grow in the midst of me caloric goodness...), but never ran completely dry, and never had a serious bonk.
  

2010 Crush The Commonwealth

And the excitement builds...

But whatever shall I wear?

Crush the Commonwealth 2009

Edited to Add:
Fxdwhl's Photos, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday reports
dhd's ride report
Eric's results list

Short Version
Started 5:20 AM on Friday the 8th of May at Point State Park, with somewhere between 20 and 30 other riders. 390-ish miles and 35:64 later, I was first finisher at the Liberty Bell, and had well and truly shattered the previous record in the mid-40s. Rolling average was 14.5, time on bike was approximately 27.5 hours. One extended stop (4 hours) in Chambersburg, a couple of half-hour stops for meals, and probably a dozen 10-15 minute stops for fluid (either intake, output, or both) and quick refreshments.

Awesome ride. Hurt a bit, but awesome.

Long Version
My sweet, wonderful, endearing, noise-monkey of a daughter managed to restrict my sleep to roughly 3 hours before the ride began (for the n^th night in a row), so I will confess to feeling a bit behind the proverbial eight-ball before the ride began. Being the stalwart rando-nerd that I am, I got up, indulged in a heavily buttered bowl of oatmeal and pint glass of sugared, lemony Lapsang Souchong, then staggered out to the garage to mount up. Last minute check: triply redundant lighting systems, enough spare layers to keep me warm down to below freezing, spare parts up to and including brake and gear cables, and about 3000 calories of bars, gels, beans, and energy drink mixes. Hmmm...my fleet-footed steed felt more like a cart horse at this point, but I decided to pretend that I was just tired, rather than suffering from advanced Kitchen Sink Syndrome.

Headed down to the Point; was one of the first arrivals, but for Ben from DC. Amusingly enough, I was wearing the DC Randonneurs jersey that I'd earned during the 300K the prior weekend; Ben apparently rides with them on a regular basis, so was more than slightly surprised to see the club colors at 5 AM in Pittsburgh. We were shortly joined by Jeremy, down from Chicago. (Apparently there were two Jeremys from Chi-town, but I only met one, so I'll not assign them nicknames or numbers or anything like that.) As it turned out, Ben, Jeremy, and I were to spend much of the first day together.

More riders poured in over the next few minutes; at least a couple of dozen were milling around by the time we departed at 5:20. A quick jaunt over to PPG Place to pick up potential stragglers, and we were off on the neutral roll to McKeesport. It became rapidly apparent that we had riders with a wide range of average speeds, so Ted and I made the executive decision (i.e. "We're in front, so we decide") to stop at the gas station in McKeesport to regroup. From there, we headed to the trail, then did a final "social regroup" at the Boston trail head. Quite a few of the faster folks in the front were champing at the bit by this point, so the social stop rapidly unraveled, and the process of sorting ourselves into small, vaguely compatible riding groups began. Myself, Ben, Jeremy, Wes, Tony, Ted, Ken, and David went off the front; then the group further splintered into Ben, Jeremy, and me in the lead.

The less said about the trail, the better. That said, I'll now talk about how much I dislike that many miles of limestone: I dislike it lots and lots. To be fair, it was in better shape than I had expected and feared; the previous week's worth of rain had merely turned some spots into wheel-sucking phlegm, rather than the entire trail. Still, after the first 50 miles of trail, I was really quite ready to be done. Shame I still had 40 miles to go until getting off at Rockwood...

We stopped for a quick bite at the convenience store in Rockwood, then headed off for the first of many climbs into Somerset, followed by Bedford, a stop at Sheetz, and Breezewood. We were making good time, and were fortunate enough to find the approach to the abandoned turnpike before daylight had faded. Good thing, too, as it was hard enough for me to spot in the light. The turnpike and tunnels were truly cool; sadly, however, I discovered my tires' propensity for pinch flats on the other side of said tunnels, where the pavement had degraded into naught but gravel-filled potholes and islands of sharp-edged asphalt. Two flats inside of 20 minutes does not a happy Dan make.

From there, we rejoined Bike Route S towards Cowan's Gap and Chambersburg. By the time we climbed the Gap, Ben was starting to find the idea of pitching his tent very, very appealing, so we bid him adieu at the state park campground area. Jeremy and I pushed on towards Chambersburg, with an eye towards a 1 AM arrival. Unfortunately for me (and for Jeremy, as he was waiting for me), the fatigue started setting in hard. We made it into Chambersburg around 1:30, and decided that it was time for a proper sit-down meal. The Waffle House was a lovely choice, as the staff was friendly, the portions were reasonable, and the prices were no more extravagant than one would expect. At this point, discretion became the better part of valor, and plans to push on to York before sleeping were overthrown in favor of the Days Inn one block over.

Checked into the hotel at 3, and were up and out the door by 5:30, for a total Chambersburg break time of four hours. Fortunately, once the legs had warmed back up, the ride began to trend much more in the downhill sort of way. In fact, once we'd started well on the way to York, I was feeling so good that speeds in the high teens and low 20s over the country rollers became the norm. I said my farewells to Jeremy, explaining that I wanted to take advantage of my burst of energy while it lasted; this was basically a semi-polite way of saying "It's a race, I'm feeling pretty good at the moment, and I'm outa here!"

While I intended to make the most of the perky period, I was a bit surprised to see how long it lasted...I was maintaining the same good speeds pretty much all of the way into Lancaster, and didn't really slow down until the last 20 miles of the approach to Phoenixville, Valley Forge and the trail head. I was hoping to make up some time while bombing down the trail; sadly, my tank was almost dry, and I could only maintain decent speed when I was chasing some guy on a tri bike. Then, once I reached the portion of the trail where it transitioned from pavement to towpath, I spent way too much time dithering on whether or not I should keep going, and where, and how, and all sorts of interesting mental vacillations. Finally continued on, and found myself smack-dab in the middle of a seething mass of humanity in honor of some rowing regatta. Average speed dropped to about 2-3 mph, and I found my normal love for all people giving away to vein-popping antipathy. Finally broke free of the press, with a good 20 minutes before my goal of 36 hours, and only 3 miles to go to the art museum. Then one of my patches from the prior night's flats gave way. I emitted copious quantities of profanity, then patched the patch, and continued on my way with a bit less time margin than I'd hoped.

Finally made it into town, and realized that I was simply not capable of reading the directions to the Bell. I knew it was Market and Something, so asked a native on Market which way I should go. Said native gleefully sent me in entirely the wrong direction, and I managed to make it all the way to 52nd before realizing that something was rotten in Denmark. Turned about, realized I'd utterly blown my 5 PM arrival time, and pedaled in slightly dejected, yet content fashion back down Market. Found the Bell, and called Eric, only to find that I'd forgotten about the 20 minutes of delayed start, and that I had managed to beat the 36 hour mark by a whopping 4 minutes. Go me!

Deena, the kids, and Uncle Micah met me at the Bell. We loaded up the car, headed to the hotel, had a lovely dinner at a local diner, and I fell face-down on the bed for about 9 hours. MAN that felt good.

I will happily do this ride again; I'm curious to see how much worse westbound from Philly will be. Of course, I seem to recall Eric making some mention of C-T-C EXTREME, with a there-and-back route, if anyone broke 36 hours. *AHEM*

Lessons Learned

1. Schwalbe Durano tires (formerly Stelvios) are very nice, fast, smooth-rolling tires that work great on pavement and even on packed limestone. Sadly, they pretty much have the strength and resistance of feta cheese when it comes to warding off pinch flats on abandoned sections of the PA Turnpike. Also, the sidewalls are so thin that even a few feet of rolling on flats abraded them to the point where threads were coming through. I like 'em, and will probably use them for fast road rides, but I think I'll need to investigate other options for future rando and mixed-surface stuff.
2. Bring two tubes for each tire size you carry. I carried only one of each. Patching pinch flats in the dark falls under the heading of royal suckage.
   
3. I still need to find some techniques to better handle fatigue (other than the obvious, "Lie down and close your eyes for a while" option), as it hit me pretty hard on Friday night. Caffeine doesn't do jack, mostly because I use it too much on a daily basis already; chewing gum was better than nothing, but didn't have a great effect; reciting/singing/chanting to myself made the dozies worse.
   

CTC Prep Complete

I'm more-or-less ready, and it's only a bit after 10 PM. I might even get a solid 4 hours of sleep, assuming the babe cuts her usual projectile vomiting short for the evening.

I'm curious to see what I've forgotten tomorrow; probably something that would have been really useful at 3 AM, in a rainstorm, in a ditch, somewhere in Lancaster. Should be an adventure.

Anyway, I'm off. (In more ways than one.)

CTC Fever setting in

Mssr. McKeegan's been posting more Crush The Commonwealth goodies. Buried amidst the pix is mention of several riders gunning for a sub-36:00 time. In that case, I guess I'm gonna have to take this a little more seriously ;-)

I've been vacillating 'twixt the idea of pushing for a fast time vs. treating it like a nice social ride with the boys; at this point, well, fast time is sounding better and better. Besides, if I plan to ride hard, I can omit some extra stuff like, say, camping gear.

So, here's the basic plan. It's roughly 100 miles from dahntahn to Rockwood, and an additional 180 miles to York or thereabouts. That's roughly 400K, which, based on my brevets last year, I should be able to wrap up by midnight or so. I'm thinking York will be a good place to take a rest break; pound down a real meal, maybe catch an hour or two of sleep at a no-tell motel, and get back on the road by, say, 5 AM. That gives me 12 hours to punch out the last 100 miles...perfectly doable.

This elevation profile is basically Bike Route S from Rockwood to Philly; that flat-downward trend past mile 140 is looking mighty recumbent-friendly.This is gonna be fun. Compared to Tom's brevets, this is darn near flat; while there's definitely gonna be some nice climbs, I'm not seeing anything to be afraid of.