The Roan Moan Century

Hi Elizabeth!

Thanks for asking about the Roan Moan. The short answer is: it's over. I don't want to ride a bike, I don't want to sit on a bike, I don't even want to look at a bike. I just want to lie in front of the television and watch Home Shopping Network until what is left of my brain goes completely numb.

Seriously, it was fun, but it was a very long day. It was my third century ride, and by far the hardest, with 8500 feet of climbing. According to the CRANE century rating system, that puts it in the "Difficult" category, which is their hardest.

The ride starts and ends at the Bicycle Inn, which is about two miles north of Bakersville, NC. There are two options: a metric and a full century. The total course length for the full century is 98.2 miles, which I managed to lengthen a bit (more on that later). Other than some morning fog, the weather was good. Overcast skies kept the temperature lower than normal, which helped a lot. About 30 people did the full century, and maybe 100 more did the metric. About ten or fifteen people did not finish the course.

Bakersville is about an hour and a half drive from my house. Charlie offered me a ride to the event, but I would have had to be at his house by 6:30 AM. So I decided to go up the night before. I considered getting a hotel room, but could not find anyone to split the cost of a room with. Then I remembered my tent, which has not been used in years. I found a local camping site, called the Cove Creek Campground. I couldn't figure out how far it was from the ride start, so I called the Bicycle Inn. Michael Davis, the owner, answered. Here is how our conversation went:

GW: Hi, I called before about accommodations for the Roan Moan. I'm thinking about camping now. How far are you from Cove Creek Campground?
MD: Cove Creek? That's nowhere near here. Why don't you just bring your tent and pitch it on our yard?
GW: Wow, thank you very much. What a great offer.
MD: I'm a great guy.
GW: You sure are!

Then Michael announced that we would be leaving soon. I still had not decided whether to do the metric or the full century, but I kind of got sucked into the vortex of riders heading for the start line. Since the event was sponsored by the Bakersville Volunteer Fire Department, one of the firemen got to officiate. He fired his gun into the air, and we were off.

The morning was cold and very foggy -- so much so that I turned on my rear flasher. After awhile, my glasses misted up, and I had to take them off. The cold was not a problem, since I quickly warmed up as the sun rose higher. However, the fog hung on and did not burn off as it usually does.

Most of the morning was very hilly. I saw almost no other riders. I just kept pedaling up and down over the hills and through the fog. The hills were exhausting, and the fog and the silence made it unworldly. But I kept slogging along, slavishly following those little orange arrows. After awhile, I began to wonder what I had gotten myself into. Then came Unaka Mountain, which was both very steep and very high. I finally began to see other riders -- but only because they had been slowed so much by the climb.

Eventually I got to the top, and there was the first rest stop. It was a welcome sight after almost 40 miles. After a break and some food, I felt much better. And the next part of the course was much flatter. It even followed an old railroad bed for a long way.

The route went through one town where I spotted a gas station. I took advantage of the chance to refill my water bottles and use the rest room. When I came out, I saw some other riders. They were dressed in spandex and going very fast. Assuming they were on the route, I followed them. That was a mistake, since at the next intersection there was no orange arrow. However, I was only off course for about a mile before I discovered my error.

Back on the route, I spoke briefly with two guys who were stopped to fix a flat tire. The one with the flat was named Allen, and he had just finished the repair when I pulled up. They took off, and it was soon obvious that Allen was faster than me. After chasing him for about five miles, somehow I eventually caught him. I said, if I could keep up your pace, I would be doing very well. He said there was no point in both of us working that hard, and suggested that we take turns drafting. I have drafted before, but rarely at the front. Not wanting to disappoint Allen, I pushed as hard as I could and was soon panting heavily. Then he took a turn at the front. He pulled me for a long time, and I offered to take over. He said, only if you promise not to go so fast. He said his heart rate monitor was going out of his zone, and he was using energy he would need for later. I was embarrassed to find out that in my zeal I had overdone it.

Once I got the hang of it, drafting sped things up considerably. Though we were hardly working, we were zooming along with what seemed like impossible speed for bicycles. Like the fog, this experience was also surreal -- but much more fun. Unfortunately, it was not Allen's day. He ended up having three flat tires before it was over.

The worst was yet to come. At the 75 mile mark, the cue sheet says (in parentheses, as if it is unimportant!) "7+ miles of hard climbing starts here." That was the start of the climb up Roan Mountain: a long, steady climb that seems endless. Riders were dropping like flies all along it, and three sag wagons were busily ferrying them up to the top. Now I know why they call it the Roan Moan! Even the route arrows had little frownie faces in them.

My strategy up Roan was to hang with a local older gentleman who was taking his time, just to pace myself. But after about three miles, he stopped to use his asthma inhaler. However, I was determined not to stop except at the sag stops. So I went on, and picked up the pace a bit. That turned out to be unwise, since at the last mile my legs turned to rubber and I was briefly reduced to creeping along at about toppling speed. I needed food, but I was too tired to unwrap an energy bar. Fortunately, I found a Fig Newton buried in my jersey pocket from the last sag stop, which got me to the top.

At the summit was another sag stop, where I finally met up with Charlie and Laurie. They were doing the metric century. Their group had left two hours after us at 9 AM, so I missed them at the start. All day long I had been asking people if they had seen them, and no one had. It was good to see that they had made it. Charlie was doing fine, despite his recent heart episode. However, Laurie was flopped out on the ground with her helmet over her face. She was the picture of exhaustion. Someone even took a photo of her like that to use on the Bicycle Inn website.

When she finally got up, she asked me how the century route was. She said she had heard it was very difficult because of all the climbing. Feigning innocence, I said "Really?" At that point, she took a swipe at me with her helmet.

The hard part was over, but we were still 15 miles from the finish. Fortunately, it was mostly downhill from there. I was surprised to find I had enough energy left to pedal the rest of the way in reasonable style. I did notice that the driveway of the Bicycle Inn was not as flat as I remembered it from that morning.

A cold shower and a change of clothes later, I ambled slowly up to the dining room and ate the best veggie hot dog with all the fixin's I have ever had.

Speaking of food, here is what I ate along the route: two Nature's Plus energy bars, a Frankly Natural vegan carob energy square (link below), a banana, two oatmeal cookies, and two Fig Newtons. I brought the energy bars and square with me, and I picked up the rest at the sag stops.

If you haven't seen it, the Bicycle Inn has a website that describes the ride. The Inn has excellent food, and of course features a bicycle theme. It was worth the drive up just to see the place. The owners, Paulette and Michael Davis, were extremely nice and very accommodating. They made you feel as if you were part of an extended family of local cyclists. Most organized rides start from some big public facility, so this was a refreshing change.

My total time for the ride was about 8:45. We left at 7:15 AM, and I returned at 4 PM. This was a big improvement over my first two centuries, both of which took about ten hours. That's not because I am getting better; it's only because I spent less time at the stops. My goal was not to set a personal best, but only to finish. I purposely avoided pushing myself, since I knew how tough the course was. Someday I hope to find a nice flat century and shoot for six hours. But I doubt I will ever beat eight, regardless of the course.

Will I do it again next year? Ask me later, after I can walk...

--greg

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