Gorge Gravel Grinder

There were at least 200 people on bikes at the start line.  I don't know whether to call them racers or riders, because I don't know if this was a race or a ride.  Sure, we had RFID tags on our ankles to track our finish times.  Sure, we had bib numbers.  There was a good amount of rigamarole at the start line too.  But in many ways it felt like a ride, and many participants were "just" riding it, including me.

My friend Linda and I rolled through the start line at 9:05am, well behind the main pack.  We left The Dalles in the reverse direction that the Dalles Mt 60 race-ride finishes.  Soon we arrived at the gravel turn and SAG wagon after SAG wagon passed by.

I lost Linda and passed another lady who told me her fitness was poor.  After a while, I passed another woman and a man.  I was winning, I just knew it!  The rest of the morning was wasted climbing.  Maybe my fitness was poor too.  I want it to be rich, so I'll just keep on making deposits.

The promoters had described the course as having "rolling hills".  Rolling hills feature downhill portions!  This was all up.  After pushing hard and never exceeding 6mph for at least two hours, I finally passed a sign that said "Summit Ridge 2200 feet".  Sheesh!

There was a little van and a tent and a table with banana halves and miniature cinnamon rolls on it.  I think they were miniature based on the fact I could eat a whole one in one bite.  A friendly tweener boy assisted me in filling my water bottles, and I was on my way again.

Things started looking up after that.  Or looking down, as we were finally descending a bit.  My red Wolverine had found a friend, an orange Wolverine.  Orangey ditched Reddy at the checkpoint, but they were destined to ride together later.

It was afternoon, and right on cue the gorge wind began to blow.  It felt like lunch time, and sure enough, there were some rider-racers, including Orangey's captain, hiding from the wind by leaning on a nicely positioned berm.  I joined in and soon was enjoying a pickle generously shared by my new friend.  A giant dill pickle is my new favorite bike lunch.  He also offered brownies, but I felt the need to go.

I was now up to "7th to last place"!  Bob Roll would be proud.  I kept seeing two riders up ahead, who I called "Orange and Red", not to be confused with the orange and red Wolverines.  These guys made nice carrots so I chased and chased.

 

I caught them and took this nice photo, then they were gone again.  Pretty soon Orangey, his captain and friends caught up.  We rode together and I told them about my 2015 Oregon Outback team credo "Sharing is caring and we don't give a f#ck".  They asked if they could join my posse and I said yes.  

The first initiation was the dare to avoid drafting.  It was plenty windy and I ate those words between bites of chocolate bar.  The truth is I love riding in the drops into a headwind, and this day was barely gusty as far as gorge winds go.

Before you know it, we were on the home stretch back to the Dalles.  The Gorge Gravel Grinder organizers did a bang up job.  In addition to a beautifully marked course and well-stocked snack stops, our registration included dinner, a beer and a nice souvenir pint glass.  Cheers!