Bozeman Daily Chronicle Feature!

Out of the blue, Bozeman Chronicle reporter Sean Forbes contacted me to do a story about my brevet series. Sean saw the link to my rides on the Gallatin Valley Bicycle Club website and I guess he was intrigued. A few days after the phone interview Chronicle photographer Nick Wolcott met me outside of Belgrade on a training ride and took some photos. I get in the paper now and then with work related stuff-but that's horribly boring. On the other hand-this was so cool. I think the story was very well done. I've gotten lots of nice comments and compliments. My only regret is I should have worn leg warmers-that was one of my first rides of this cool, wet spring with bare legs..and it showed. Check out the story on the Chronicle's website HERE.

Riding along the Musselshell River...and not in it!

The start of day 2. I'm not as angelic as I appear!

More Photos Here

Central Montana has been ravaged by floods from record snow pack and rainfall this spring. One week before my scheduled 600K brevet, a significant portion of US Highway 12 between Harlowton and Roundup was underwater. Alternate routes, of which there are very few, were being contemplated as my final Paris-Brest-Paris (PBP) qualifying brevet hung in the balance.

Fortunately, the waters receded just enough and the Musselshell River 600K brevet route was open for business on June 18-19, 2011. Now all we had to do was ride the 375 miles within the 40 hour time limit.

Brenda, Jackson, Ernie, and I rendezvoused with fellow PBP hopefuls Ken Billingsley and Karel Stroethoff on Friday night at the quaint Countryside Inn in the quaint town of Harlowton-pretty close to the center of the State of Montana. A cloudy day had given way to a pleasant evening and the forecast for Saturday looked good (just a chance of showers and thunderstorms in the afternoon). As for Sunday…well at this point that was too far off to worry about (one of the strategies for completing these long rides is to not look too far ahead).

5:00 AM Saturday morning showed up with temperatures in the mid-40’s and an almost imperceptible west breeze. The sun was coming up and as promised it looked like a beautiful day. We sped along US-12 toward Roundup along with the swollen Musselshell.

The devastation of the recent floods was all around. The smell along the river was not pleasant with all the stagnant water everywhere-kind of like a wet dog that just rolled in a manure pile. We could see where the water had been over the road, with the river levels just a couple of feet lower now. We didn't see much of Roundup because we stopped at the first gas station in town, but there were flooded properties and the washed out former Milwaukee Railroad grade that appeared to serve as a dike. It was a pretty big mess.
Fixing Karel's first flat in the Bull Mountains along Highway 87

After a short rest in Roundup we had a long stretch on the much busier, but also shouldered US Highway 87 to Billings. Lots of debris, glass, and chewed up tire bits on the shoulder-so inevitably flat tires. Karel got the first flat, somewhere in the Bull Mountains. Later on I got one on the high plains outside of Billings. A sharp piece of steel belted radial was quickly discovered as the culprit. Unfortunately, as with my Cody brevet a few weeks ago, I didn’t do the change job properly and promptly flatted again about a mile down the road. The valve stem didn’t seat right. I thought it would work itself out. It did, by slamming against the inside of my rim and flatting immediately. The second change went better and we were on our way-but I was pretty flustered. It took until the city limits of Billings to finally calm down and start trusting my tire again.

We were still together as we rode through Billings Heights to Airport Road along the Rimrocks to the infamous Zimmerman Trail-a very short, but busy and narrow switch back descent to the valley floor below. We were able to easily exceed the speed limit and stay with the cars on the way down. A few hours later we would have to go up Zimmerman Trail-that would be a whole different kind of experience!

Ken and I lost Karel a few miles later. One minute we could see him about a quarter of a mile behind us and the next minute he was completely out of site. It was only about 6 or 7 miles to Ken’s house and our next rest stop, so we decided to press on . Karel has ridden 10’s of thousands of kilometers of brevets over the years-we knew he was equipped to take care of himself, and we were close enough to dispatch a volunteer to go find him if necessary. Heath and Brenda and the flag of Brittany-a region of France on the PBP route

Ken and his wife Heath live on the top of a hill off Buffalo Trail Road, north of Laurel. It’s a beautiful area to ride with a nice new paved road and no traffic. We were greeted at their house by my Mom and Dad who had driven over from Belgrade earlier in the day, Brenda, Jackson and Ernie who came in from Harlowton that morning, and Heath, who had the place all decorated with memorabilia from Ken’s five previous PBP’s. Big delicious grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches were served up and life was good! An approaching thunderstorm after lunch. We should have waited it out.

Karel showed up just about the time we thought we should go look for him. His rear tire had developed a slow leak and he had to stop several times to pump it back up.

As we finished lunch, thunderstorms were brewing all around. Ken and I decided to press on-randonneurs are always trying to keep forward momentum as the clock is always ticking-despite some crackling thunder overhead. Karel was working on his tire, but bid us to go on. It almost proved to be a fateful decision. As we turned on Molt Road to head back to Billings the skies opened up and a cold drenching rain came down. There was also a brilliant flash of lightning and immediate clap of thunder that nearly scared us out of our wits. The lightning didn’t strike anything, but looking around on the open plains, we were about the tallest things around (and I’m quite a bit taller than Ken!) Fortunately, the storm was over just about as fast as it started. As we descended back to Billings we dried out pretty quickly.

The climb back up the mile long Zimmerman Trail was not as terrifying as I had been imagining over the last several months. The cars and pickups came by in clumps of 4 or 5 as they were released by the stop light at the bottom of the hill, and they were only going about 20-25 mph so even though they were close enough to reach out and touch I never felt in danger. We made short work of the climb and got back on the high plains to Lavina.

Ken, who was riding a little faster than me at this point went on ahead and I settled into a steady but conservative pace for the 40 or so miles Lavina. There was a lot of standing water in the fields on both sides of the wide shouldered road-providing great mosquito habitat. I had to abandon a “nature break” because hundreds of bugs feasted upon me the second I came to a stop.

Brenda and Mom and Dad set up a control at Lavina which gave us the opportunity to refuel and get ready for night riding back on US 12 to Harlowton. Ken was just leaving Lavina as I pulled in. Karel was a ways behind as he ran over a construction screw just outside of Billings and ruined the new tire he had just installed at Ken’s house. Fortunately, Brenda happened along at the same time and she had his old tire. Karel was having a rough day, but Brenda reported he was still in good spirits.

The ride back to Harlowton was slow as it was uphill and into a light headwind, but it was a pleasant evening, and the only thing I had to share the road with were mule deer. Night bicycle riding can really be wonderful.

Karel who was still a ways back told Brenda he was going to try to press on after Harlowton. He didn’t reserve a motel room for Saturday night-but he did have his van which he could rest in if he wanted. Ken and I on the other hand agreed to set out again at 5AM on Sunday morning to finish off the last 200K. I ate a little snack, hit the bed, and slept fitfully for about three hours-getting up before the alarm went off at 4AM. It was in the 50’s but raining lightly. I wasn’t feeling too great and had no appetite-just nibbling on some junk food for breakfast.

I was slightly dreading the next 57 miles to White Sulphur Springs. We would be riding into the Castle Mountains and there was some serious climbing ahead. After riding together for the first 20 miles or so, Ken set off ahead and was soon out of sight. I was feeling really sluggish and in a pre-bonk state. No fuel this morning was not going to work for me. Fortunately, Brenda had made me a Nutella-bagel sandwich which I had in my jersey pocket. That had just enough calories to re-light my fire and get me moving-although slowly. The road conditions were terrible and rain was still drizzling down as I climbed to the small community of Checkerboard. After Checkerboard the road got much better, with a shoulder, but the climbing got more intense and the rain came down hard for a while.

Relief set in when I finally dropped into the White Sulphur Springs Town Pump C-Store a little before noon. The hardest riding was done and we only had a little over 100K to go. Ken was just leaving the Town Pump when I arrived. I was quite surprised to see him as I figured he would be hours ahead. But he had also struggled with a lack of calories which slowed him on the climbs. The hot dogs at the gas station got some much needed protein and fat into my system. I was feeling much better for the finish.

Mom and Dad and Brenda caught up to take care of us at the last control on the route at the turn to Martinsdale. Karel was nowhere to be found so far and everyone figured he was way out in front. Brenda finally found him almost to Harlowton in the afternoon. He did go to sleep in his van (after getting in at about 3 AM) and got started late. With the big climbs ahead he decided to turn back at Checkerboard and abandon the brevet. Fortunately, he had completed a 600K last weekend in Richland, Washington so he was already PBP qualified. He had missed the volunteers driving up to meet us when he went into the bar in Checkerboard to refill his water bottles, thus he was MIA for a while. I didn’t blame Karel at all for abandoning. The way I felt that morning I probably would have packed it in too if I didn’t absolutely need the ride to qualify. I have no doubt Karel could have finished, but he didn’t want to finish in the evening and then have to drive all the way back to Missoula on less than three hours sleep. Probably a wise decision-and he did get some really valuable training in if nothing else.

Ken made it in safely and he, Karel, Brenda, Jackson, and Ernie waited at the finish line for me come in at 5:38 PM. They cheered me as I rolled up-with a lump in my throat and my emotions about to leak out. What a great way to finish a ride. We had some celebratory hugs and handshakes before packing up and heading for home-now fully qualified for PBP. An emotional finish

It was an epic brevet series. The routes were challenging and in 3 of the 4 rides we got rained on (actually even snowed on in Missoula). We also had plenty of wind. But the extra effort in the qualifying rides will only help us in France in August. Now all I have to do if figure out how to box my bike up and get it to Paris!

A BIG BIG thanks to our families for all their support in getting this done. The help we got from Brenda, Jackson, Heath, Mom and Dad was so welcome. I hope they had as much fun as we riders did.

Gallatin-Jefferson 400K-a bit of summer

Brevet No.3...and now things are getting serious. 200K's-yes they are hard, but they almost always start and finish in daylight. 300K's-a good long way to ride a bike but pretty doable-in most cases you're not going to have to worry about sleep deprivation. But then there's the 400K-a notorious distance for many randonneurs. Too short, with a 27 hour time limit, to allow an extended stop with a sleep break, but too long not to finish way into the wee hours of the next day. Things that can be an annoyance on a 200K or 300K can be show stoppers on a 400K-whether it be nutrition, fitness, or equipment. You have to have things pretty well dialed in.

My Gallatin-Jefferson 400K started out into a chilly, clear morning from my house here in Belgrade (more photos here). I was joined once again by Ken Billingsley and Karel Stroethoff. All of us have 400K's under our belts from previous seasons but this was our first for this year.

The route was in two segments. The first was a tour of the Gallatin Valley, dipping in and out of the Bozeman City Limits on three different times, then heading west to the communities of Churchill and Manhattan before circling back to Belgrade on Dry Creek Road. The second segment headed out to Silver Star via Whitehall, doing a small loop back to Whitehall and then back home via the big hills on Highway 359 to Harrison.

We felt like we hit the jackpot with the weather forecast. High temps in the low 70's and very light breezes. A perfect day (almost).

When we left Belgrade at 5AM it was barely above freezing, though the sun was coming up. Toes got a bit chilly until the mercury started to seriously climb at about 9AM. We kept more or less together throughout the entire Gallatin Valley loop, a ride that in many ways felt more like a club century ride than a brevet because we had checkpoints (and thus lots of rest stops) about every ten miles to account for numerous possible shortcuts. We rode at a pretty good clip the whole way, but we didn't get back to Belgrade for lunch until 1PM as the frequent stops did slow us down.

Brenda, Jackson, and my Mom were at the house to greet us for the 100 mile stop. Brenda cooked up a batch of soup and there were lots of other goodies on hand. For a brevet with only 3 people, we were supported like it was a brevet of 50. I'm so grateful to my family for all their support in my randonneuring efforts.

After lunch we headed out into a light, but annoying and tiring, headwind on the frontage road. Traffic was predictably busy, but thinned out once we got past the Belgrade area subdivisions. The bike path and new pedestrian bridge over the Madison River at Three Forks was a welcome diversion from the highway, but all too short. More high speed traffic to Sappington Junction where we got a break on the nice and quiet highway through the Jefferson Canyon past the Lewis and Clark Caverns. The wind was still hounding us, but my stomach had settled down and I felt better.

We followed a typical pattern spreading out on the road, and meeting up again at the checkpoints-in fact we were together on all but two or three of the 17 checkpoints all day. Ken was riding much quicker than Karel or I, but he didn't mind holding up for us. A great feature of the non-competitive nature of randonneuring where camaraderie is what it's all about! I was able to get a picture of each of us depositing our post card in the mailbox in Silver Star-proving that we were there.

Brenda and Jackson setup a "secret" checkpoint back in Whitehall on our return trip back toward Belgrade (a secret checkpoint is not announced on the route sheet. An organizer can place one on a route to keep riders honest...and provide some service). It was most welcome. Lots of food and goodies and a chance to get our layers and lights back on as the sun was setting and the temperatures were falling rapidly.

If the ride was only 300K I would have been pretty happy. The first 300K was about 2 hours faster than the 300K in Wyoming two weeks ago and though my cold was getting to me and my rear end was sore I didn't feel too bad. But we had another hilly 100K's to go, almost all in the dark, and into more headwind. As we were finishing our loop outside of Whitehall the wind amazingly shifted from the southwest to the southeast and we would have light headwinds again all the way home. It was frustrating.

So the last 100K was slow. Brenda and Jackson waited for us out in the middle of nowhere at our last checkpoint with hot coffee. It was getting quite cold and I was chilled to the bone, being about one layer short of what I should have had. Thankfully Jackson lent me his jacket at that last checkpoint-which was a serious ride saver.

Ken and I got back to my house in Belgrade at 2:14AM and Karel came in a short while later. The ride into the night, though cold, had its advantages. I could count on one hand the number of cars that passed after night fall.

Many thanks to Mom for the neutral support and keeping an eye on us on the second loop. And thanks to Brenda and Jackson who once again staffed the brevet expertly, including spending some long hours waiting for us at that last checkpoint in the dark near Harrison. That was going above and beyond the call-but so important for us.

This ride had a lot going for it. Great weather (except for the wind direction), no rain, and for the most part-quiet pleasant roads. The worst part of the day was the 13 miles of Highway 55 between Whitehall and Silver Star. This stretch is busy with truck traffic and no shoulder. Also, the folks around Whitehall seem to have a particular distaste for cyclists (at least in my experience as I've been harassed there more than most anywhere else). I'll probably try to avoid Highway 55 in the future and use the much more lightly traveled and pleasant Highway 41 which turned out to be a real jewel.

Gallatin-Jefferson 400K. Home court advantage.

My third brevet of the season, the Gallatin-Jefferson 400K is all set to go for Saturday, June 4, 2011. Dare I say, the weather forecast is even looking favorable (knock on wood).

This route will be fun for me. These are my home training roads and the start/finish and an intermediate checkpoint are at my house in Belgrade. The first 100 miles is a loop of Bozeman and the Gallatin Valley and the second 150 goes to Whitehall and Silverstar. Lots of turns in the first part and much more spread out in the second part.

A pre-drive of the route with my son Jackson revealed no major road construction projects or serious flooding issues. There is some sort of rodeo event going on in Whitehall on the day of the ride though-so we'll probably have to deal with some horse trailers. Hopefully they'll be sober.

All the pertinent info is on my brevets website.

Cody 300K. Bonus miles, wind, rain, and flats!

According to Harold Camping, the world was supposed to end on my birthday, May 21, 2011-and for quite a while along the Greybull Highway between Greybull and Cody, Wyoming I was wishing that it had! Rain was drizzling down, a stiff cross/head wind was blowing, there were almost 50 uphill miles to go, and I just got my third flat of the ride. But alas, time kept ticking both in the cosmos and on this 300K brevet. I got the flat fixed and kept going.

My second brevet of the season and the 2nd of 4 qualifying brevets for Paris-Brest-Paris started out well enough. Ken Billingsley, Karel Stroethoff, and I left Cody at 6:00 AM under cloudy but clearing skies and lighter than predicted breezes. As per usual, we set out at a casual pace, chatting along the way. When we rolled up on some road construction about 8 miles later that we didn't see on the drive into Cody the night before we knew we were off route. Back to Cody we went, finding Highway 120 which wasn't as obvious a turn as we had expected. The bonus miles cost us about an hour, but we were nice and warmed up anyway. In retrospect it was kind of funny-here we are in Wyoming where there aren't that many roads to begin with and we still managed to get on the wrong one!

The first 30 miles (after the bonus 16) were very pleasant as we climbed out of Cody and then had a nice downhill to the first info control. The sky was patchy, but we could see the about 3/4 of the way up the Beartooth Mountains and the wind was light. That all changed pretty soon after we turned toward Powell. I got my first flat, a piece of glass inbeded in the tire, and as we were changing the tube, the wind kicked up big time out of the northwest. This wasn't all bad, as we were headed in a southeast direction. The wind pretty much blew us to Powell, or at least most of the way. When we turned straight east the wind blew across our path and made the going tougher.

I got my second flat just after Powell. This one was my fault-not my tire's. In my rush to fix the first flat I didn't get enough air in the tire, so when I hit a big enough bump, my tire bottomed out on the rim and the tube went flat immediately (in cycling jargon this is known as a pinch flat). As I was frantically fixing the flat a sheriff's deputy pulled up and asked if everything was all right. We assured him that we had it under control-unless he happend to have a floor pump with him (he didn't) he couldn't help us any. I only carried two spare tubes with me so I was down to tire patches. Ken lent me his extra tube so we both had one. I was very frazzled at this point. Fixing flats in a strong wind wore me out more than riding. Thanks to Ken for helping out (three hands are a big help when fixing a flat on the road).

After more tailwinds and crosswind, which were increasing to what I'd guess was over 20 mph with higher gusts we made it to Lovell. We had easily made up enough lost time on the road that we were in no danger of missing the time cut off at the Lovell checkpoint. Ken and I stopped at a gas station on the edge of Lovell to get our cards signed and get a quick bite and some chocolate milk. Karel who had gone ahead at my last flat tire (no need for more than two of us to fix the flat) was at a Blimpie in town getting his card signed and refueling.

The ride across the Bighorn basin from Lovell to Otto started out with a cross headwind, but eventually turned into a glorious straight on tailwind. We flew down the road to the next info control out in the middle of nowhere. Brenda and Jackson met up with us on this part of the route with my floor pump. I got some more air in my tire and felt fairly certain that my troubles were behind me. The bike felt a lot better with a full shot of air in the back tire.

Not long after the info control on Highway 32 the rain started. First just a light drizzle, but gaining strength all the time. When we turned to the east going into the info control in Otto we were being lashed with that 20 mph crosswind and hard rain. Things were beginning to not be fun anymore. My Mom and Dad, who drove all the way down from Belgrade earlier in the day caught up to us on Highway 32 and waited for us, along with Brenda and Jackson, at the checkpoint in Otto, but it was raining so hard that Ken and I just waived hello and kept going.

My bad luck rubbed off on Ken as a little ways after Otto I came across him in the beginning stages of fixing a flat of his own. At least I was able to return the favor of holding up his bike and various bits and pieces as he got the tube replaced. But now we were down to one tube between the two of us. Although with Karel a little ways behind he certainly would have bailed us out if need be.

We met up my folks and Brenda and Jackson at a Conoco c-store in Greybull looking like wet rats, but no worse for wear. We got some food and I patched one of my flat tubes. We also got the word that Karel was a ways behind but doing fine (as fine as one could expect in the weather conditions we were having). The picture above kind of sums up the situation. I was just about to leave Greybull into what I knew would be a stiff cross/headwind, in the rain, and uphill. It was 54 miles back to Cody and it was going to be slow. I was all reflectered up as I would have to ride a bunch of the way in the dark.

Ken, who is much faster but graciously held up to ride with me to this point, decided strike out on his own-hoping maybe to get back in time to drive back home after the ride. I on the other wanted to hangout at the c-store a little longer. When these rides get really tough you've got to just ride your own pace and not try to ride someone else's. Mom and Dad also headed back to Belgrade, but said they'd check on Karel on the way out. They called a few minutes later to say he was about to join us.

Karel came in just as I was about to leave. He had oral surgery a week or so ago and hadn't been able to eat solid foods or get in any training. That he was out here at all, let alone riding successfully, was a real testament to his toughness. He was worried about not making it back to Cody before the time cutoff, but I wasn't worried-I knew he'd make it in "easily."

The ride back to Cody was the slog I knew it would be. Slow, uphill, and wet. The highway had a nice wide and smooth shoulder, but after my third flat a few miles out of Greybull I rode mostly in the traffic lane to avoid the flat tire causing shoulder debris-watching my rearview mirror and moving over whenever a car came. I had just used the tube I patched back in Greybull and patching another tube in the rain on the side of the road in the dark didn't sound appealing so I had to take every precaution to avoid another flat.

As I finally entered Cody after some steep hills just before the town a Wyoming State Trooper flagged me down. He let me know that Karel was about 8 miles behind me and Ken had got into town over an hour ago. He was a super nice guy and it was comforting to know he was out there keeping an eye on us. Kudos to the law enforcement of Wyoming. They were happy to help if needed.

As I turned onto a residential street, about half mile from the finish I hit a bump and my tire went flat again (another pinch flat). I had mixed emotions-relief that it happened so close to the end that I could walk the rest of the way , but frustration that I couldn't ride it in triumphantly. Before this ride, I had never had more than one flat tire on an organized ride (and there have been some long ones). I guess I was due, but for sure I'll be looking at some different tires!

We each finished about an hour apart, but all well within the required 20 hours. It was a long hard day for all of us, but we were glad to do it, knowing full well it will benefit us going into the rest of the season and ultimately at PBP.

Many thanks to our loyal volunteers: My wife Brenda for the paperwork, bringing out the floor pump, and waiting for us at the controls. And to my son Jackson and dog Ernie for going along too. Also, many thanks to Mom and Dad. They like to provide neutral support on my brevets. Thankfully on his one we didn't need to throw a bike in the back of their car-but all the same it's nice to know we have someone out there just in case something really bad happens.

Finally, much appreciation to Ken and Karel. We've done a lot rides together over the last couple of years and I've enjoyed every one! There aren't many randonneurs in our part of the country but we have stuck together. I've learned a ton from both of them!

Cody 300K-Hoping the weather gets the wind out of its system

We've been plagued by the most miserable east winds lately. 30 mph, with even stronger gusts. It has not been fun to ride a bike out in it, but it has provided a great training opportunity. My next brevet is out of Cody, Wyoming-a place known for its wind. The route, goes in every direction at one time or another-so hopefully we'll have a tailwind at least part of the time. No matter what we have to get through it...and we will!

The ride leaves the Sunrise Motor Inn in Cody at 6:00 a.m. wind, rain, or shine. All the details are here.

The Best Piece of Infrastructure in Montana-Missoula 200K

Click here for more photos. PBP qualifying is finally underway as my first brevet of the season, the Missoula 200K, was successfully completed on April 30, 2011. I was joined once again by Ken Billingsley and Karel Stroethoff who are also planning on going to PBP. I was also delighted to have Jeff Fasteen join us for his first randonneuring event. Jeff and Ken drove over from the Billings area and Karel, who has driven 10's of thousands of miles to brevets all over the country, finally got to enjoy a randonnuering event that started just few blocks from his home in Missoula.

I watched the weather forecast with grave concern. A cold front was rolling through the state starting on Thursday, with full effects on Friday, and lingering impact into Saturday. Highs were forecast for about 50 with a mix of rain or snow throughout the day. The ride started with temps in the mid-30's and low gray clouds. The snow line was clearly visible on the surrounding hills just a few hundred feet above the valley floor. We had some wet snow flakes on the way to Huson and Frenchtown along with some light drizzle, but as it turned out, weather wasn't a problem. Having the ride in Missoula was a good decision, it was much worse in most of the rest of the state.

The best part of the route was the wonderful bike path along US Highway 93, starting at Lolo and going almost all the way to Victor-with plans to keep going to Hamilton eventually. Riding a long distance without worrying about rednecks, RV mirrors, big trucks, and other various distracted drivers is incredibly relaxing. The worst part of the ride was the Eastside Highway (Hwy 269) between Stevensville and Corvallis. This part of the route had heavy, impatient, high speed traffic with absolutely no shoulder. Ravalli County drivers were less than hospitable. Which is too bad-because it's a nice valley to ride through. In future incarnations of this route I will make more use of the bike path and avoid 269 as much as possible.

As we got into the afternoon, the clouds broke up and we had some sun. We also had a west wind as we headed back north toward Missoula that was either a cross tailwind, cross wind, or cross headwind depending on the subtle direction changes of the bike path. The wind wasn't so strong though-especially compared to what we've been dealing with most of this spring.

Ken and I finished feeling pretty strong. Karel wasn't feeling well in the afternoon, but he made it in with no problem. Jeff, who had undergone major knee surgery just a few months ago, rode within himself, kept the pedals turning, and finished triumphantly with plenty of time to spare. This was Jeff's first randonnuering event-here's hoping there's many, many more. I know for me, the high from finishing one these rides, is highly addictive. Congrats Jeff!

It was a great day and good start to the season. The next one, the 300K, is on May 21 (my birthday), starting and finishing in Cody, Wyoming. Any chance we'll get a little wind out there?