Crystal Bear: Run What Ya Brung & Make UP the Rest
I received a phone call from Crystal Bear RD Chris Schotz the week of the race with news that their volunteer wouldn’t be able to attend. I had planned to be at the start of the race to throw Embark samples at racers as they departed, so I offered to also take on the critical volunteer’s role of getting kegs of beer to camp, amongst other important tasks I don’t recall. With a slight increase of responsibility and decrease in chance of riding, I loosely laid out my bike & camping gear with the hopes of still getting out on course to experience riding & exploring new trails.
I arrived in Laona Friday night and learned that Gary, whom I had met two weeks earlier at the Bear 100, volunteered to shuttle beer & coffee. Chris informed me I was no longer needed as a volunteer, and thus I was now obligated to race. WHAT!? I secretly wanted to ride, but coming from an MTB & off-road adventuring background I never really participated in long road/gravel events. 200 miles was intimidating to me. I quickly put my required gear together before dark and staged my bike for a final once-over in the morning. I’m terrible at feeding myself in the best of situations. I tried to stock up with what might be considered nutritious at the local convenience store, and enjoyed some fish tacos before retiring to Helga, our astro van for the night. I studied the route for the first time, tore out pages from my gazetteer, traced the race course in pen on my maps, and strategically folded them into my map bag. Much of the route was not found on my maps; what exactly was I about to embark on?
Day 1
I wasted an hour repacking my gear and changing socks in the morning, then took pictures of the grand depart, which my sock-selecting trials caused me to miss. I saw Dustin getting ready to leave, and oddly feeling a bit social I took off on a whim with whatever I had loosely packed at the moment. A few miles later we settled into a group with Shane & Laura, and the four of us rode together most of the day.
I broke each day’s ride down roughly into quarters, with the thought I can “always” ride another 25 miles. Knowing we’d have the opportunity for a real lunch around mile 55 (Hwy 139 Roadhouse) helped ease my very real fear of hanger (recall I’m bad at feeding myself). The first 25 miles included a few miles of fun singletrack, complete with boulder rides! I love technical riding fully loaded, and this was one of the few sections of the course where I felt competent and “at home,” just riding for fun!
One theme for seemingly the entire ride was the ridiculously beautiful trilliums in bloom. This was particularly stunning in the section after lunch riding an empty ATV trail through the Ottawa National Forest and up across the UP border (Brule River, aka Border Brule). I neglected to bring a photo ID, but they let me in anyway.
We rode a fun paved bike trail weaving through the small mining town of Gaastra to Iron River, and then left Iron River along the Heritage Trail. The sun was getting low for the last 25 miles of the day, with a final 14% grade climb before reaching Crystal Falls. In somewhat of a daze I “switchbacked” my way up and rode through town to pizza, beer and every other racer already at camp. My goal was to finish Day 1, my first official century, but in true Embark spirit went over top and managed DFL!!
Day 2
Drip. Drip. I woke on Day 2 to my rain fly soaked through and leaking on my forehead. A not-drunk mug of beer I fell asleep with in my vestibule got tipsy and soaked between my ground tarp & tent. At least the dank wet smell & moist floor wasn’t from me.
Full disclosure: When I woke up the thought of taking an “easy route” back to Laona crossed my, damp doubtful mind. My confidence to do seemingly anything in life ebbs and flows like the water levels of the wild & scenic rivers we crossed. Sometimes it’s a raging torrent of spring snow-melt, other times a parched late-summer boulder field baking in the sun. Seasonally rhythmic but still beautifully unpredictable. I get stuck in loops of analysis-paralysis, where just trying to make the “right decision” ends up meaning making “no decision” which is almost always the “wrong decision.”
Do what you can, with what you have, where you are. ~Teddy Roosevelt
At that moment I had a bike and an able body, so the right decision was to just start pedaling. From past experiences of getting in over my head, there is nothing I haven’t been able to get out of. Yet.
I got out of my tent and took a few photos of camp while my gear was laid out to dry in the light mist. I slowly repacked my bike while sipping on a Coffee Maple Embark and watched the 7am grand depart, which I was again not ready to be part of. I tried to leave with my group, however being a new dad who dawdles all the time, dawdled about instead. In an effort to make better time I decided not to join other racers for breakfast, and planned to not stop for lunch either. Not taking an opportunity to feed myself has never turned out well, but this time I had a zip-lock of last night's pizza packed in my frame bag so we’re all good, eh?
Rain. Pedal. Sun. Pedal. Hail. Pedal. Repeat! The first 24 miles of the day developed a rhythm of non-committal weather patterns, but otherwise went quickly. Navigation was relatively straight forward from Crystal Falls to Florence, but I knew the section between Florence and Armstrong Creek was going to be my biggest test of navigation and commitment to the course. I had made it ~140 miles since starting and still felt good!
I was struck by the stark contrasting beauty of Spread Eagle Barrens compared with the lush forests we were temporarily leaving behind. It’s these moments of transition that take me away the most, and I can’t help but stop and be fully present in them. I snapped a few photos of an ephemeral art installment, and whooped up some “whoo hooos!” as I rolled on through this strange sandy landscape.
I meet up with Brent somewhere in the Barrens, enjoying intermittent conversation as we leap-frogged each other until the short hike to Washburn Falls on the Popple River. I packrafted Big Bull Falls on the Popple two weeks earlier, and was excited to scout another whitewater segment. Shortly after getting back on the bikes we bid adieu.
One climb particularly stood out; a rutted, fairly steep muddy trail with snaking stands of water through an active logging area. I could see a clearing just beyond the first turn, and was determined not to get off and push. The moment I expected triumph, the curve revealed multiple more stages to be cleared. Much like the race, at this point I was committed to seeing it through. I managed to keep enough momentum and traction that I made it to the sprawling landing with logs stacked tall along the trail. The course eased up after this with smooth dirt & gravel, and I zoned out on the repetitive pedal stroke after pedal stroke before rolling into Armstrong Creek. I was in a daze as I stumbled into my riding friends from the day before as they were resting up for the final push back to Laona. I topped off my water, made a commotion, and hit the road with a new enthusiasm; I could taste the finish ~24 miles away. I was going to make it!
The ride ended with the low grade uphill Rat River Trail. I was back where I started, but it didn’t feel familiar. I now felt a new confidence about what was possible. I just rode 200 miles, and I felt good. I wonder how far I can ride?
Without the kind support & patient assistance in navigation (err, waiting for me at every turn) from Dustin, Shane & Laura, I would never have found my way along the race route, particularly on the first day. Without words of encouragement I would not have even attempted this. Nobody pedaled my bike for me, but I still had help getting where I needed to go. Endurance sports have a large phycological component, a commitment to working through hard things and hard places with the goal to simply maintain forward progress. Even so, I stopped to smell flowers, explore side hikes, and took thousands of pictures. I won’t get a time bonus for any of those diversions, except possibly in navigating life.
I learned a lot from this ride; some things worked, others didn’t. My approach & gear is below:
Navigation: I really like paper maps, but completely failed here. In hindsight, had I responsibly approached this race I would have *at least* used the USFS maps I unknowingly had stashed back in the van. A gazetteer has nowhere near the resolution required when riding forest service roads, truck trails & unmapped singletrack. I learned this from prior experiences but simply didn’t plan appropriately. Like many bikepacking routes, this one was best navigated by GPS for safety, speed & convenience. On Day 1 I was dependent on my kind group of riders to wait and help me find my way. On Day 2 I relied on Brent to navigate part of the ride, and then used my phone while trying to find service & conserve battery.
Comfort: A few weeks earlier I had installed some old bar-ends on the inside of my brake levers to give me more hand & seating positions. Moving around in the saddle saved my back on my too-small bike with a seized too-low seat post. I have also had heal problems since running cross-country in high school, and early in the ride I removed my right shoe heal cups since they made my right leg slightly longer, which seemed to be triggering knee pain on previous rides. My back and knees had no complaints!
Nutrition/Hydration: I worked out a really good on-bike routine for myself. I would mix up a half pack of Elderberry Maple Energy Embark in an empty 16oz tea bottle and take a drink anytime I saw a climb, and another drink following the climb. If anything was feeling tight or tingly, I would also take a drink. I mixed up a total of three packs of Elderberry Embark each day, resulting in 6 bottles per day. A small handful of salted rye chips paired very well with the Elderberry, also eating one convenience store sized bag each day. I used two packs of Coffee Maple Embark each day, taking a pull when I felt the need for that extra boost and saving the rest. I also had an empty tea bottle with matcha and my hydration pack with water, again taking pulls from whichever I felt like I needed. I also had 2 apples and a banana, as well as 4 peanut butter cups per day. On Day 1 I had a mushroom swiss burger & IPA at roughly halfway, and Day 2 packed half a pizza in a zip-lock which I ate roughly at a rate of one piece per hour. I tried to eat a protein bar, but it was terrible in every regard so I snuck my second one into Laura’s food bag and bought the peanut butter cups instead. I never used any gels, energy mixes, or sports/nutrition bars. I ended the ride more hydrated than when I started, and was very surprised how good I felt during the entire thing.
Training: None. I mostly ride when my mental health requires it, quite far from a regimented routine for racing. My cardio felt strong from my time working in our maple woods over winter & spring, but I could tell my legs didn’t have the strength training to pedal some of the hills at a reasonable pace, and with my gearing I quickly spun out on the flats. I hike-a-biked a few times each day, but that’s expected on any respected mixed-terrain route with elevation.
Gear: A lot of gear has changed since I started “bikepacking” but even so my setup worked pretty well, albeit heavy and a little awkward & bulky. I used an old REI Flash backpack secured with an NRS strap to my rear rack, which contained my sleeping bag, tent, & change of clothes.
On my front rack I secured a therm-a-rest and tent poles. I “hung” my Osprey Seral hip-pack with 1.5L water bladder from my inner bar-ends (waist strap going under my stem), and sandwiched my DSLR bag with Canon 90D between the bar and hip-pack. This setup was fine on gravel and reasonably secure off-road, though shifted around some as the bladder was emptied. I also used a Surly Moloko bag for my phone, lights & cables, and a Big Driftless Small Travel Carry for my maps & compass.
I stashed my first aid kit, rain jacket, food and water bottles in my frame bag. I desperately need to improve this setup, as the frame-bag zipper doesn’t close, most seams have been repaired and the Velcro straps ripped off. It was an innovative DIY project 13 years ago and has seen thousands of miles of mis-adventure!
2003 Surly Karate Monkey: TIG welded rear rack mounts, seized seatpost
36/20 gearing (Surly chainring/cog, KMC 8spd chain)
Pirelli Scorpion Trail S 29x2.4 front, Scorpion H 29x2.4 rear
13 year old homemade frame bag (thanks Biggs!)
Department store platform pedals
Slip-on Merrell Jungle Mocs & wool backpacking socks
Union Suit (Christmas 1994) with Aero-Edition Ears & Tail (Team Skulk!)
Mechanix gloves
Big Agnes Seedhouse SL1 (old soaked through quickly)
REI 20° Down Bag
REI rain jacket (old, soaked through in minutes)
Therm-a-rest (roll-up type)
