Sweet as sugar
Not with a bang, but with a whimper.
That’s how it felt crossing the finish line at Big Sugar in Bentonville this past Saturday.
Dirty, tired, about to cramp, and officially done with the 45 mph wind gusts that had plagued us all day. But I rolled over that chip timer with a smile, nonetheless.
There’s nothing quite like hearing your name over the loudspeaker.
Julie Engler from Austin, Texas.
Finally. we made it home.
***
I didn’t know what Big Sugar was until fellow Violet Crown gravel rider and friend Shane mentioned he was training for it last year. We rode a lot in 2021, my first year in Austin. It hasn’t been as much this year, but our schedules have still aligned quite magnificently at most of the local gravel races.
He didn’t do Big Sugar this year. I hadn’t really planned on it either, having missed the registration, but I felt super lucky to be able to snag one of the entries from work. Another co-worker also did the ride, so it was awesome to have yet another friend out there on the course!
I didn’t know what Big Sugar was like, or really what I was signed up for. But having (almost) completed Belgian Waffle Asheville, the Hell of the East, I figured nothing could be worse than that, right? (Well, you know, I’ll come back to that later.)
So, I added it to the schedule. I’ve always wanted to visit Bentonville, and I was stoked for the opportunity to go there, ride some bikes and have a good time!
The drive up was pretty mellow. The scenery was gorgeous with all the fall leaves — always a reminder that we don’t have a ton of tall, leafy trees here in Texas Hill Country. Once we hit Arkansas, it was 360 degrees of mesmerizing color, rocks and hills. So amazing! The scenery alone was worth the trip.
The place we were staying at was slightly north of town, too, in a very gorgeous area and surrounded by nature. It also happened to be in walking distance of a really good pho place, so that was amazing.
I didn’t do much riding before the race, which I both am grateful for and regret. I wanted to ride my mountain bike, but I never got to! It rained all day Monday and Tuesday, and in hindsight I should’ve ridden Thursday or Friday, but what can you do. Hopefully there will be another trip for trail riding!
But let’s focus on that sweet, sweet sugary gravel.
***
Race morning wasn’t too chaotic. We all got up early and ate pancakes, bacon and eggs drenched in maple syrup. It was delicious, hot off the griddle. I decided to ride down to the start line, as it was only 2 miles away.
The wind howling through the trees was pretty ominous, though. It was already 20 mph at 5 am. It’d only increase throughout the day. I was definitely nervous about it. Wind is not something I handle well, I know it. There’s not much you can do, though. This was the weather we got on race day, so we’d either defeat it or it would defeat us.
I could only hope that these legs were strong enough.
The start line was packed with pros. You could tell that there was a solid and large elite field. I’ve never been to an event that had so many of them there at the front, both men and women. It was epic, and it felt so special, especially considering we were riding the same course as them. That’s my favorite thing about these rides. Sure, maybe we don’t finish as fast, but we get to face every single challenge that they do. It’s so cool!
I saw Kat and Lily in the morning, and Lily and I met up at the end of the group start to ride together. It was nice to have someone to bounce the nerves off as the time slowly whittled down.
We might not have lucked out with the wind blowing strong out of the south, but we did luck out with the weather. It was warm, dry and comfortable, so that meant we didn’t need a ton of extra gear. Riding can be sketchy in the spring and fall, you never know what you’re going to get. And if that rainstorm from Monday happened to hit on Saturday, well, it would’ve been game over.
Wind? I’ll take it, I guess. I spent hours in the rain at Gravel Locos. I still have nightmares about it. Thank the bike gods that we didn’t have a day like that!
The start was fast and comfortable, but once we hit gravel, all bets were off. It was loose and chunky with lots of steep turns, climbs and descents. Within the first 10 miles, we already saw tons of flats and one crashed out rider. It was a reminder to not let your guard down out there.
I’d heard and heeded the warnings, but there was nothing like seeing it in real life.
Today would not be easy.
It wasn’t too hilly on the way out, and we had the grace of the wind. I played it easy at the beginning, just to get my feel for this new bike I was on — oh, shoot, did I mention my new bike? I didn’t even mention my new bike! It’s a Pivot Vault, fully carbon and designed specifically for gravel. I’ve been riding it the last couple of months to get it all ready for its big debut, and that was at Big Sugar!
That thing LOVED all the chunky stuff, and I loved how light and stiff it was. It definitely made a big difference at this race. I felt every single one of those 7,000’ of elevation, and there’s no way I wanted to do it on my cyclocross bike anymore. It was time for an upgrade, and it definitely came at the right time.
For the most part, Big Sugar wasn’t epic epic like Belgian Waffle. There was no crazy shit we were riding, no unexpected off-road sections and crazy KOMs. That doesn’t mean it was easy, though. Gravel roads, it turns out, can be highly technical.
The downhills were steep, and the rocky, dusty, gritty gravel did not make that easy. As someone who doesn’t have a lot of descending skill, those were especially tough for me. On some of the descents, you’d hit patches of extremely loose gravel, which was terrifying. Others were just loose, and it didn’t matter what you did — you were sliding down them. Sometimes sharp turns awaited you at the bottom. It was hard to tell with the leaves and the shadows. The wind gusts would even blow you out of the line, too, so that was an added, unexpected challenge.
The pitches up were just as tough. Steep and loose. Some were off-camber on turns, even, which was rough to navigate, especially with other riders around. I’m so grateful on the the toughest one that I picked the right line, as I saw a couple of other riders around me wipe out. It’s so hard to get your momentum again on a steep climb.
Rolling into rest stop 1 at mile 37, I knew that today was not going to be an easy one. I knew that it was going to take everything I had to get to the finish, and I didn’t know exactly what I had, but I was certainly going to find it.
I got a couple more scoops of Tailwind, ate some sugar, and got a bike rinse from Andy & Co. (Galaxy Bicycles in San Marcos, TX) as my ride was just covered in powdery grit. It would help me get through the next 40 miles, for sure. I tried my best to stay up on nutrition, but it wasn’t easy over the rugged, bumpy terrain, so I was really counting on Tailwind to get me through this one.
After a quick potty, I was off again on the middle part of the ride. At this point, we were far into rural Missouri, and the hills and climbs just kept getting more epic. I knew the middle section had some legit ups and downs, so I anticipated that it would be the hardest part of the day.
I kept my pace solid as I could, trying not to surge and keep up on fueling. I think it was at about mile 50 that I saw another rider wearing a Leadville jersey. Out of curiosity, of course I had to ask if they did Leadville this year (yes) and how this compared to that (I felt better at this point in Leadville than I do now). He slowly disappeared behind me as I pushed on.
At the second rest stop, my body felt like it was done. My legs didn’t particularly hurt, but my feet, my hands, my body just felt physically beaten up.
This was the point where I also needed a serious pep talk.
I drank a good amount of water, had a couple of more gels, and got some more scoops of tailwind. Bike got another little wash and some fresh lube. Julie got a big hug and a reminder that there’s only 30 miles to go — you can do this.
We were good to go again with an ominous warning about the climb coming up right out of the brewery.
“All of the 50-milers walked it.”
I was determined not to, and I didn’t. I didn’t walk any climbs on the day, actually, which I was proud of. But I digress. …
We made it up that beast, probably with the help of a shock of sugar and caffeine. There were some fast downhill road sections that just felt so relieving. There were very few moments of the day where you weren’t pedaling or technically descending, so your body was working extremely hard with little relief. I was so grateful to have those peppered in, but don’t get me wrong — there weren’t a lot of them.
The remaining 30 miles were rolling hills, with several more steep pitches sprinkled in.
What really sapped your soul, though, was that the winds increased throughout the day and hit their peak right when the course turned south.
The only way out was through.
I found Lily again after a solid 60-ish miles of not seeing them. We entered the world of hurt together on a couple of climbs. I tried to keep the spirit light, offer some smiles, encouragement and complaints about the agony we were both experiencing in order to not feel so alone. I know it helped — Lily zoomed ahead and finished strong!
Looking around at about mile 80, it was obvious that everyone was in a bad place, though, including me. People would try to push and then fall back. Heads were low. Someone pulled off and threw up. Nobody even had the strength to hold a paceline.
I remember one particularly tough stretch, and while it was flat, it was fully exposed, straight into the wind. 2 miles of this.
I saw the straightaway on my Wahoo! and I knew that it was going to hurt. I was counting down the distance to the tenth of a mile.
1.9 miles to go.
1.8 miles to go.
1.7 miles to go.
1.6 miles to go.
1.5 miles to go.
Somewhere on that stretch, a photographer had set up. I just remember seeing him and being so angry. Why would you do that? The last thing I want to do right now is smile. I am usually so jovial for the cameras, but not this time. I tried to give a little smirk, which felt like it took more energy than was worth, but I kept pushing on. I think I was going 6 miles per hour.
After that stretch, things did get a little easier. The climbs weren’t as crazy. The wind wasn’t blowing straight in your face. The roads were a respectable mix of gravel and pavement, and the gravel itself was fast, so I used that to my advantage to get some good speed. Anything to get me closer to the finish line faster!
I started feeling a little better around mile 90. It was the home stretch, and those fast sections really helped me get some more sugar in my muscles and water in my stomach. There was no question about it now. We were gonna get there, and we were gonna get there soon!
In the final miles, I no longer even remembered what gear or ring I was in. It felt like it took an eternity to shift. The wind kept howling. I kept eating. I kept pedaling.
Riding into town felt both welcoming and weird. We went up the same trail that I had ridden down the day previous, so I knew exactly where I was. Unfortunately, though, there was a lot of up to get to the end.
Was I moments away from cramping? Could I make this climb? There was a lot of uncertainty here, for the last 2 miles. I started throwing the kitchen sink at it. Water, Tailwind, I just didn’t want to cramp on the final push.
Whatever I did worked. I made it up that hill, and I left a couple of others in my dust. I don’t know if that felt personally fulfilling, or if I just was so happy to see the end, but the smile on my face says it all.
I finally conquered Big Sugar.
The whole crew was there to meet me at the end, to hold up my bike, snap photos, hugs and sugar and water. It truly felt like I had just accomplished one of the hardest bike rides of my life, if not because of the terrain then because I was still recovering from COVID, I had a new bike, I didn’t have much training in the last two months, and I had just said goodbye to Huxley.
I don’t care what I placed. The real win at Big Sugar was being able to do this. It was showing up and pushing through.
I wrapped Huxley’s collar around my stem before the race. He’d been too old to be a trail dog by the time I found cycling, let alone off-road and trail riding. I think he would’ve quite liked it as a pup.
I’ll never know, really. But I’d like to think that he would, if only because he was by my side.
So, Hux, wherever you are, that one was for you. Your first bike ride.
It’s magical, isn’t it?