If you read my previous “Motivation Monday” posts, you'll know I was somehow suckered into riding the Monkey Knife Fight on April 14th. I'd suggest you read those posts to get an idea of what I've spent the winter and early spring training for. I described it as “a spring classic, Pennsylvania style. That means dirt roads, gravel, steep climbs, shitty weather and lots and lots of fun. And beer. There's a beer sponsor. I think it's Funk Brewing, actually.”
Well, the beer sponsor was indeed Funk Brewing (who makes a wicked IPA I might add.) I'll also add that I was completely correct about the description with one notable, important exception, which I'll get to.
To get an idea of how I proceeded to tackle a beast like this, check out my previous posts about the training theory behind a ride like this. Yeah, it was lots of muscular endurance and plenty of VO2 max work. No, it wasn't glamorous at all, but it (sort of) got the job done.
In this edition of “Motivation Monday” I'll recap Monkey Knife Fight 9, tell you what went wrong and what went right.
Here Comes The Sun…
The week leading up to Monkey Knife Fight was an epic one. We went from cold and snow to legit summer in the space of 4 days. FOUR DAYS! To say that I have previous experience with sudden warm temperatures on race day is an understatement. Last time that happened, I spent a week recovering on the couch. At the time, I wished so much for the cramping to stop that I may have made a pact for my first born to go live with someone in a very warm place.
I was hoping against hope that this wouldn't be a repeat. I was also hoping that my legs would hold out for what would be a truly epic day of suffering. My only hope was to sit in the draft wherever I could and stick to my pacing plan.
Pre-ride (bike) prep
As always, one of the biggest ways to get yourself thrown into a tailspin is to be rushing on race day. (Before anyone gets mad at me, yes, I know this is not a race. But for preparation sake, you should treat any major event as a race scenario in terms of preparation.)
Bike choice was simple. Ride what ya got.
My wife rode her Ridley Fenix with some Hutchinson 28s and a (revised) 34/28 low gearing.
Me? Well, given the choice between my Look 585 and my Scott Foil 10, I opted for the Foil. Why? Sadly, I can only mount 25s on it, and it's stiff as hell, but it has one big advantage: electronic shifting. Now, this isn't one of those “it's faster or more precise” kind of arguments. Nope, far from it. The biggest factor is the Foil has bar top mounted satellite shifters and sprint shifters on it. That means I can shift from multiple hand positions. In an event with 25+ miles of dirt sectors, varying my hand position would be critical to staying comfortable throughout.
For gearing, I relented and swapped my regular 12-25 for a 12-27. But I still kept the standard 53/39 crank gearing. Surprisingly, I didn't find myself overgeared or uncomfortable: I tend to like a lower climbing cadence, so I was in heaven most of the day.
Pack your bags son, it's time for a Monkey Knife Fight!
One tradition I religiously stick to is prepping my gear the day before. We had bottles filled and marinating the night before. Scratch Mix was packed into a musette so we could stuff the single serving packets in our pockets at the car. Varieties of Kind Bars were left in the musette for the “hill church aid station.” Bikes were tuned up and ready to roll. Garmin devices were charged and prepped. We even had top tube sheets taped up listing the gravel sectors. Most of all, we had a plan for how we would get out of dodge in time to kit up, warm up and get to the start.
The morning of Monkey Knife Fight we split up the various prep in order to get everything set up and get out on time. I was tasked with packing up the team car, er, Outback and getting us there. We got the bikes on the roof and rolled out only a couple minutes behind schedule.
An hour later, we were slathering on sunscreen and chamois cream, getting psyched up for what would probably be one of the hardest rides we've ever done.
Holy shit was it.
They gonna catch me ridin' dirty!
After a short climb up to the staging area, we grouped up under sunny skies. Now, remember earlier where I mentioned my description was almost entirely correct? This is where I fucked it up: it wasn't shitty weather as generally predicted for mid-April. It was sunny and warm. No, it wasn't. It was sunny and HOT as hell. Like, 85 degrees hot as hell…in the shade. So we prepared to sweat for the first time in 6 months before we rolled off with 300 other knuckleheads.
After a fast rollout, we hit some of the “uncategorized” sections that would later prove to be deadly. These bumps in the road suck the life out of your legs and leave you gasping for air, which is decidedly poor when you have 7 categorized segments coming up. On the plus side, the terrain around Emmaus is some of the prettiest I've ridden anywhere in the northeast.
And did I mention dirt? The dirt came thick and fast right out of the gate:
There was more than one occasion where the dirt roads were merely the icing on a climbing cake:
Because it was billed as a “hard ride” the segments were also unpaved, at least partially anyway:
But even though it was incredibly hard, it was also incredibly rewarding:
Did it all go according to plan?
HAH! How could it?
Nobody can plan for 85 degrees when the highest temperature all year has been around the mid-60s. I stuck to the pacing plan by spending as little energy as possible in the first third of the ride. I actually felt pretty good going through the first sector and into the second one. Shortly after the second sector, I started to feel the twinges a bit. It didn't help that the folks I was riding with were having major issues with the heat and the pace dropped considerably.
We made the choice around mile 34 to skip the middle 4 sectors for the sake of time. It's a good thing too. My legs gave out on some of the fast, flat and rolling terrain after sector 7 and they cramped up pretty hard. Asking them to handle another 2000 feet of elevation in 15 miles would have been a death sentence. As it was, we spent 4 hours on the bike, tallied 55 miles and 5000 feet of elevation. It was a solid day even if we only hit 3 of the 7 sectors on the route.
What about next time?
Well, next time I hopefully won't deal with a winter as prolonged as this one. Getting outside in some warmer weather and getting used to longer miles with more elevation will go a long way towards improving my time. As for the heat, there's no way to combat that except for acclimatizing to it, which can be tricky in the winter. There are a few strategies, but they don't work nearly as well as actually riding in the heat.
Now, considering Monkey Knife Fight is truly a fundraiser event, I'm going to put this out there. You. Should. Do. IT! Two days post knife fight and I'm beaten up and sore, but so utterly happy that I did it. What a great group of people and a great organization. If you have any inkling that gravel riding is cool, this one will confirm your feelings.
I'll be back next year. Will you?
