Orny's Cycling Journal

Since imperial centuries have become as rare as hen’s teeth for me, I guess I have to start reporting out on the metric centuries I do, or at least the 100 km “event rides”.

After a post-PMC lull, which included last month’s trip to South Carolina, my October was focused on building back up to fitness in preparation for the upcoming Livestrong Challenge. Two weeks before Livestrong, there was a nearby event ride that I figured would be a great warm-up.

So last Saturday I rode the Barrows Volksride. It was my first 100 km ride since my PMC, 2½ months ago. And it had been 18 months since I did a “new-to-me” organized event as a first-time rider.

As I was focused on building fitness, I decided not to taper my training, only taking one day off the bike to freshen the legs somewhat.

Ironically, during that rest day I discovered the Real Ale Ride down in Blanco, another local event which took place at the same time. Both are put on by breweries (something I feel pretty iffy about), but raise money for their local volunteer fire departments. With Austin cycling events being pretty rare to begin with, it seems stupid for these two fundraisers to take place on the exact same day.

For the Volksride, at 8am three or four hundred riders set out on the roads around Salado and Holland, Texas. The delightful mid-October weather started out around 22° C, with scattered clouds. A 13 kph wind out of the south was at our backs for the first third of the ride, allowing us to easily roll along at 38 kph with minimal effort. There was a long section of fresh chipseal, but it was well-packed, and thus not too painful. The biggest negative was the morning sun directly in our faces, occasionally blinding us.

For the first time in a big event ride, I broke out my HoverAir selfie drone and captured some video as I rode past Summers Mill on Salado Creek, but it wasn’t smart enough to get the framing I wanted. As I stopped to retrieve it, it recalcitrantly kept its distance, until I sneakily turned and leapt up to snag it out of mid-air.

Although the ride mostly featured flat farmlands, there were two noteworthy hills right after the second water stop, 40 km into the ride. After that point, the route turned south into the teeth of a 24 kph headwind, making progress a hard, painful slog for the next 30 km.

After 90 minutes of fighting the wind, I reached the final rest stop at 10:54am. Temps had risen to a record 30° C, but at least the steady wind kept the heat from building on the roads. As we zig-zagged north and west, I’d hit segments where I could easily cruise, and others where you had to fight for every meter.

My lower back started complaining, so I took numerous opportunities to stand and ride out of the saddle. My fitness held out until the very last corner, when I started feeling the first hints of leg cramps. I looked forward to working those out with my impact massager later in the evening.

Just 250 meters later, I crossed the ride’s finishing gate at 12:06pm. I’d accrued 102 km in just over 4 hours, with a modest but surprising 730 meters of climbing. More importantly, I’d gained 240 points of Training Stress (TSS), and yet another big finisher’s medal to add to my trophy case.

But the important part here is to give you my impression after doing this ride for the first time. Overall, it was a pretty good ride. It was a nice, unchallenging route (save for the wind), and it made for a pleasant morning in the saddle, accruing training load. I’d consider returning, although I might also want to try the Real Ale Ride too, which is held in a lumpier – but potentially more scenic – section of the Hill Country.

And now we look ahead, toward the next big challenge…

Watch on YouTube

Saturday’s Fire Ant Tour was an important ride. Most importantly, it was the longest ride I’ve done since my heart surgery back in March, and since my stroke last October. In fact, it was my first metric century since my solo PMC ride last August, and my first organized event ride since the 2024 Fire Ant Tour, a full year ago! On top of all that, this was my final opportunity to test my readiness before registration closes for this year’s Pan-Mass Challenge.

I’d already missed several other opportunities for long rides this spring, which I talked about in my previous update. But this post is about the ride I completed, so with all my hopes for a post-op recovery pinned on this event, how did it go?

Enjoying the scenery while earning mah kibble!

Looking strong crossing the line after 100 km.

Showing off a hard-earned finisher's medal.

The lead-in to the event was unsettled, in more ways than one. The weather was a little iffy after a week of scattered thunderstorms. In addition to my general health questions, I wasn’t sure I’d trained sufficiently. Then my final equipment check found a gouge in my rear tire that necessitated a swap back to an old tire I’d kept around.

I had concerns about the course, too. The organizers had tweaked the route, making it the event’s third different course in as many years. And at the last minute riders were warned that the local DPW had just resurfaced one of the final roads on the course with universally-hated chipseal.

Nonetheless, riders set out at 7:15am. My plan was to conserve energy by keeping my effort level moderate, around 130 Watts. And I closely monitored the estimate of my remaining stamina that my Garmin bike computer provided. In the end, that all worked out very well.

I also wanted to concentrate on fueling and hydrating more than usual, with mixed success. I managed to down a couple chocolate chip cookies at the rest stops, but completely forgot to take any of the electrolyte supplements I’d brought.

Having learned from previous editions, I’d expected challenging weather, specifically, hot and very windy conditions. The morning began with ideal conditions: 22°, with overcast skies, and no wind to speak of. As the sun climbed, the clouds gradually burned off, temperatures jumped to 30°, and the wind picked up, coming out of the south at 20 km/h and gusting to 31. But that was still kind of benign as compared to previous years.

The route began with a familiar 40 km loop, which went by quickly due to strong legs, light winds, and moderate temperatures. That was followed by a new 40 km out-and-back on FM 215 that illustrated how much impact the wind had. With a tailwind on the northbound leg, I averaged 123W for 47 minutes; but returning against the wind, I had to average 126W for 65 minutes to cover the same distance. Despite sustaining more power for an additional 18 minutes, I went 7.3 km/h slower heading south!

After nursing it home for the final 20 km, I crossed the finish line at 11:50am with 101 km under my belt.

The ride was a little challenging, mostly because I just wasn’t fully trained up for that distance yet. But thanks to the weather I wasn’t quite as thoroughly wiped as I’ve been in previous years. Taking into account my comeback from stroke and heart surgery, as well as my incomplete training, I was extremely happy with my performance.

Most noteworthy, this has cleared the way for me to finally register for my remote Pan-Mass Challenge ride, confident that I can at least put in a creditable performance to “earn” my sponsors’ donations for cancer research at the Dana-Farber. The scary part is that PMC weekend is only six weeks away, which doesn’t leave a lot of time for fundraising and long training rides… Yikes!

I can’t finish this ride report without covering the rest of my day. After happily completing my first cycling event in more than a year, I picked up a very nice finisher’s medal before heading back to Austin. After the drive home, I filled up on fresh strawberries and some Ben & Jerry’s mint Oreo cookie ice cream, followed by two trips to our free and shockingly uncrowded neighborhood swimming pool (after a thunderstorm caused that interruption). It was one of those idyllic, self-indulgent summer days that you dream about.

I hope that sets the tone for the rest of the year!

Last year’s 100 km Fire Ant Tour was both my first organized cycling event in Texas, and the first one on my new bike (writeup). And this past weekend it became the first Texas event I’ve repeated for a second time. I approached it with more confidence this year, having already completed my first century a month ago (writeup).

Cruising to a strong finish

Line of early starters rolling out

All blue sky and sunshine

Texas ain't all desert yanno

Since I normally only do writeups for imperial centuries – and this wasn’t one – I’ll limit myself to some brief highlights.

In an effort to avoid the afternoon heat, this year 230 riders rolled out at 7:15 rather than 8am, which meant I climbed out of bed at 4am and hit the road at 5:15 for the 90-minute drive up to Gatesville. Although it was 23° at the start, a cloudless sky promised a hot pre-solstice afternoon and a strong wind out of the south.

The first 25 km was the same route as last year, but then we veered off for a 45 km out-and-back spur toward Crawford that included 6 km of the worst “paved” surface I’ve ever ridden. After skipping the first two water stops, I pulled in to Stop 3 at 8:35 with 39 km down: more than a third complete!

After taking on some water – and nothing else, due to the disappointing selection – I got back on the road, completed the rest of the outbound leg, and turned around and went back the way I’d come. That rough section wasn’t quite as bad on the way back, but now we were fighting a 20 km/h headwind with 37 km/h gusts. At least the wind provided a little cooling, with the temperature now above 30°. I rolled into the next stop at Osage at 10am, with my GPS reading 71 km: two-thirds down!

With the heat, a headwind, tiring legs, and my hands and back aching from the rough roads, I split the final third into two legs. The remaining 30 km returned to roads from last year’s route, which included a very hard hill just before the final rest stop, where I arrived at 10:55am, with 87 km done.

After a bit of rest, I nursed it home, finishing 100 km with 636 meters of climbing at 11:30am. I was wiped, but nowhere near as devastated as last year, thanks in part to the earlier start allowing me to avoid the noonday heat by climbing off the bike 90 minutes earlier. I picked up my finisher’s medal, rested in the air conditioned civic center, and used a wet facecloth to wash off the layers of sunblock, sweat, road grime, bugs, and Gatorade (my bad: doused myself with the wrong bottle!) that had accumulated on my arms and legs.

Since event rides have been rare, it’s worth closing with some general reflections.

I was interested in my GPS’ estimation of my stamina remaining, which even at the end said my legs had another 90 km in them. Which is nice, but color me a bit skeptical on that point.

I even more closely watched my power numbers for each segment. I’m trying to be more aware and structured about not starting out too hard, and this provided some good data, as my average wattage dropped from 151 to 137, 127, and finally 97 on the final leg.

Equipment changes included ingesting electrolyte pills (the jury’s still out, but it can’t hurt), bringing a post-ride sweat towel (good idea), and my tire jack (wasn’t needed, but gave peace of mind). I chose not to bring my HoverAir X1 selfie drone, which isn’t really ideal to carry and deploy in the middle of a large event.

But overall, this year’s Fire Ant Tour was pretty satisfying. Now that I feel more comfortable with my new bike and riding in Texas, a hundred kilometers doesn’t feel like the major milestone it was at this time last year. But it was an enjoyable day in the saddle out in the wide-open farmland of Central Texas. And there won’t be many of these long organized events over the coming summer months.

Plus this was good training for my remote PMC charity ride, which is less than eight weeks away. I’d really love to have your support in raising money to eradicate cancer in this, my 18th Pan-Mass Challenge.

I wouldn’t normally post a ride report for a mere 100k (62-mile) ride, but there are reasons why I’d like to share my experience of my first Fire Ant Tour.

Big sky fulla giant Ornoths!

Riding straight past the first rest stop

Rolling into the second rest stop

... and limping over the finish line

To begin with, I haven’t found many (imperial) century-length rides around Austin, which means very little to talk about. I’m hoping to get one or two under my belt soon, but this is summer in Texas: not the smartest time to undertake my first century in a while. So I might not have any century-length ride reports to post until fall.

On top of that, my last outdoor ride of more than 80 KM (half a century) was back in October, so it’s already been eight months since I posted my last ride report. So the Fire Ant Tour was a test of my physical readiness for a long ride after such a long hiatus.

In the same spirit of testing things, this was a ride full of important firsts. It was a chance to try my first major event on the new bike: Pæthos. It was my first major event in Texas after our move down here in January. It was also my first ride out in the rural Texas countryside, well outside of the proverbial “Austin city limits”. And it was my first long ride facing the extreme heat of summer in Texas, coming just eleven days before the summer solstice.

I didn’t maximize my physical preparation. I was pretty casual about my fitness level in the weeks leading up to the event, and I didn’t bother tapering my riding just beforehand. I wasn’t feeling particularly strong, but I figured I was ready enough for a little 100k.

In short: this ride was going to be a big test of several factors, and I was very interested in learning from how it went.

So with Inna away visiting family back in Pittsburgh, I hopped in the car at 5:30am – after waking up at 2:30am due to a thunderstorm – and drove 90 minutes north toward Waco and rural Gatesville TX. Although there was still lightning when I left Austin, the sky had cleared by the time I checked in and got the bike ready for the 8am start. Over 325 riders set off in very pleasant 24° morning sunshine.

We rolled along, mostly north and east, often topping 40-50 km/h and averaging over 30 km/h, knocking off the first two of the route’s four small 50-meter hills. There were almost no cars on the roads, and the landscape surprisingly reminded me of the very open, flat-to-rolling farmland in Ohio. At this point, it was really delightful.

It was when we turned back west to complete our first, clockwise 20 KM loop that we learned how much of a tailwind we’d enjoyed on the outbound leg: about 18 km/h gusting to 26. Despite putting much more effort into overcoming the headwind, I was going slower, and that variation in power and speed would continue all day, depending on which direction we were going.

After a tedious westward slog, the route continued with a larger 55 KM loop, counter-clockwise, with the wind cutting my average speed to a painful 18 km/h on the westward portion. That loop ended with a 3 KM section of rough gravel that stung my hands, followed by the last of the climbs on the route.

After that challenging segment, I took some extra time at the last rest stop to douse myself with water and rest my legs. It was now the heat of the day, and the former cooling wind had become hot. I wish I could quantify that, but after a forecast high of 36°, on the ground readings ranged from 31° on one feed, to 35° from the National Weather Service’s intermittent rural monitor, to 40° recorded by my GPS. After having increased my sport drink intake, my stomach was bloated and queasy, my feet were hurting, and my power numbers were flagging.

The last segment was short and partially downhill, and I rolled across the finish shortly after 1pm, having taken 5 hours to cover 107 KM, with just 750 meters of climbing. I certainly didn’t finish strong, but picked up my finisher’s medal, doused myself with water, and packed up. I gratefully jumped in the air conditioned car and drove straight home, my stomach wanting no part of post-ride hot dogs, drinks, or ice cream.

Despite the discouraging finish, I really enjoyed the ride. The roads were quiet and reasonably well surfaced – except for that gravel section – and car traffic was minimal. The Texas landscape wasn’t dramatically different from what I’m used to, and less sere than I expected. The tailwind was awesome, the headwind was annoying, and overall the breeze did clear some of the heat off the road surfaces.

That heat wasn’t extreme by Texas standards, but I did gain a healthy respect for it. I’ll have to be more assertive about hydrating early, and accept the limits of my endurance when it gets really hot. Whether I want to push myself for summer century+ rides is still a bit of an open question, knowing that it’ll entail an extra, dangerous level of suffering.

The organizers did a good job, with frequent rest stops amply stocked with ice, and I’m always delighted to receive a finisher’s medal.

As for Pæthos, it did marvelously. I had no issues with mechanicals or fit or unwelcome squeaks and creaks. My only complaint was some pain in my hands, which was aggravated by the short gravel section. I’ll be keeping an eye on that in the future.

So for a first event, the Fire Ant Tour was fun and provided the desired learning experience. With a hot five-hour ride under my belt, I have a better idea what to expect if I choose to undertake my first century in this summer’s extreme Texas heat.

Sunday September 3 was Mercer County Trails’ annual Pedal the Lakes ride. It was my fifth century of 2022 – eclipsing last year’s total – and my 106th lifetime. So it’s time for a ride report…

I rode PtL in 2016, 2018, and 2019. Following a break during the pandemic, they changed the route and moved the start to Lake Wilhelm. Back in June, the organizers also ran a “Tour of Mercer County” that set out from the PtL’s former home at Riverside Park in Greenville; I had intended to ride that this year, but they decided to withdraw the 100-mile distance option at the last second.

Sunrise over Lake Wilhelm before setting out on the 2022 PtL ride

Swoopy Lake Wilhelm bike trail

Western Pennsylvania farmland

Pymatuning Reservoir dam gatehouse

However, the redesigned PtL did offer a century distance, although riders could only do that by completing their 50km short loop, returning to the start, and then completing a longer 110km loop.

For the most part, the new route didn’t use many roads from the old one, and the few duplicates were traversed in the opposite direction, which often completely changes the experience for someone traveling by bike. We would still hit the Pymatuning Reservoir and Conneaut Lake, but Lake Wilhelm replaced the Shenango Reservoir, and we’d forgo the leg into Ohio to touch Mosquito Creek Lake.

I got up and hopped in the car around 6:30am for the 75-minute drive north and learned that my partner had left me with an eighth of a tank of fuel. That required a side stop for gas in Grove City, undermining my plan to arrive at the start early.

I pulled into the Goddard State Park marina at 8am and checked into the ride. Out of a couple dozen century riders, I was one of only two who hadn’t already signed in and rolled out. The weather was mostly cloudy, but unlike my previous PtL rides, there was no autumn chill, and I was looking forward to a day spent exploring the picturesque western Pennsylvania countryside. I took a late “sunrise over Lake Wilhelm” selfie and set out at 8:30.

The shorter 50km loop began by crossing long-but-narrow Lake Wilhelm on a causeway, then following a bike path 10km southward along the eastern bank of the lake. I saw almost no riders, so it was very quiet, and a pleasant 19º despite being heavily wooded. The path featured occasional views of the lake, several small wooden bridges, and lots of swooping ups and downs that attested that it was definitely not a converted railroad line!

After emerging onto regular roads I pulled into the Stoneboro FD rest stop just after 9am with 16km done. I didn’t need fluid, and the selection of snacks was underwhelming, so I simply said hello, recorded my ride commentary, and rolled on.

The remainder of the 50km loop headed west and north – inland into farmland – before returning to the starting point. The scenic countryside was gently rolling, punctuated with a few small dips and climbs into and out of valleys cut by small streams. There were lots of quiet roads and false flats where one could fly along at 48-42 km/h, which effortlessly ate up the 36km segment in no time.

At 48km century riders had a choice of either saving 8km by immediately joining the outbound 110km route or returning to the marina to completing the full 50km route and beginning the full 110km route from the start. As a completist, I chose not to take the short cut, finishing the short loop at 10:30 in exactly two hours, having ridden 52km and accumulated 460m of climbing. I used the opportunity to hit the bathroom and stop by my car and pick up a frozen bottle of sport drink.

With my century ride now one-third done, I turned around and set out on the longer 110km loop. There was a lot of high haze in the sky, but occasional patches of blue, and the temp had climbed to a still-ideal 23°. 

A long 36km first segment of the big loop took me north and west across country. The air was a little warmer than before, the headwind was a little bit stronger, the farms were a little less scenic, the hills were a little bit bigger, and the legs were a little more used up. As I told my voice recorder, “It’s just becoming a little less of a pleasant touristy ride.”

At 12pm I pulled into the rest stop at the southern end of the immense Pymatuning Reservoir. Despite feeling that I was slowing due to fatigue, I’d covered 90km in 3½ hours, which is an excellent pace for me. Despite making good time, I still hadn’t seen many other riders, which again speaks to the head-start I’d given them by setting out late. Knowing I was already behind on solid food, I downed a chocolate chip cookie and stuffed another one in a jersey pocket, where it would leave a crumbled, melty mess.

The Pymatuning Reservoir is shaped like a boomerang, and the next leg went from the tip of the southern arm across country to the far north-eastern arm. I wistfully rode past the winery that was the lunch stop on the old PtL route and had featured catered pizza and donuts; the ride offered nothing so delicious this year. I stopped briefly to take some pictures at the causeway that crosses the reservoir, where tourists and seagulls flock to see thousands of carp that clog the spillway. It’s allegedly the second most popular tourist destination in all of Pennsylvania, trailing only the Liberty Bell. Then across country to the tony resort town of Conneaut Lake. As you might imagine, these areas were all a lot more built-up, with commensurate traffic volumes and speeds, making for a less pleasant ride.

I hit the Conneaut Lake rest stop at 1:40pm with 126km done and 1,000m of climbing, and met up with a family of four people riding just the longer loop (not the century). I rested for 10 minutes, chatting while munching two bite-sized cookies. The volunteer manning the stop confirmed that I was indeed the last of the century riders.

The penultimate segment was thankfully short, flat, and included a brief stretch on a wooded bike path. But the final rest stop was bizarre. It was a few hundred meters of gravel off the main road, at a seeds-and-biomass facility, where a cooler had been left outside on a card table, and devoid of any attendees save for one huge, geriatric golden retriever. Being well into “survival mode” already, I happily raided the cooler for any remaining ice.

It was 2:30, so I was exactly six hours in. And with 140km under my belt, there was just the final 20km back to the marina. When I wondered aloud whether the last two hills were going to be as bad as they looked on paper, a grimy old man suddenly popped up and said, “Oh yeah, they are!” That was enough to prompt me to saddle up and skedaddle back to the main road.

The next 10km was me crawling over those two evil hills and through a village called “Custards”, nursing all the aches and pains in my butt, the backs of my knees, my right calf, and right big toe.

Then, just when you thought the pain would be over, I realized that I was just about on track to complete my century within seven hours, which is something of an achievement. So the final 10km was me burying myself, in an all-out time-trialling effort, tapping whatever strength I had left to break seven hours.

The odometer tripped 100 miles on the return over the causeway across Lake Wilhelm, just a few hundred meters before the marina, where I stopped at 3:34pm. I’d completed the century (162km) in seven hours exactly, with 1,371m of climbing, and a 25.5 km/h average speed.

So that was the ride… Now for some final observations.

Back before the pandemic, Pedal the Lakes was always a nice, relaxed late summer / early autumn ride: a final long expedition of the year following the hectic insanity of July and August. It was really nice to get back to that.

The new route has pluses and minuses. There’s less busy roads, a lot fewer painful oil-and-chip surfaces, and the lakeside bike path was interesting. Having the century ride comprised of two loops was fine, with the shorter loop being more scenic, but the longer loop including more lakes. Even though much of the course is delightfully flat (-ish) I do think you need to be well-prepared for this one, with those two big 100m climbs in the final 20km.

I will say that I’m a little disappointed in the support, although that’s mostly due to far exceeding my expectations in previous years, when we were treated to brownies, donuts, fresh pizza for lunch, and chocolate milk at the finish. And there was no ice available, except for what residue I could scoop out of a couple drink coolers. Perhaps because of that, I suffered by not eating enough: the equivalent of about two cookies during a 3,100 kCal effort.

I remain divided about my own performance. On the down side, I felt like my stamina and my legs didn’t hold up quite as much as I would have liked, and I wound up trailing the other riders by some unknown margin. On the other hand, I finished feeling reasonably strong and set an objectively good time. Those two contradictory aspects just don’t add up well in my head.

All that aside, I really enjoyed the ride and would certainly do it again. It was a wonderful tour of the western Pennsylvania countryside, and a fun day out on the bike, albeit riding solo.

And, as usual, it’s a fitting end to cycling’s high season, and a segue into the more relaxed, less stressful rides of autumn. I’m looking forward to that!

Sunday was my third century of the year – the PMTCC 3-State Century – and for the first time in five tries, it wasn’t boiling hot. My previous editions were in 2016, 2017, 2019, and 2021.

I left the house at 5:45 to get to Neville Island for check-in and a planned 7am depart. It was a pleasant 17° and overcast, and I chatted with riding buddies Phil and Gary and Oscar as we waited for the group to roll out.

Ornoth & Phil at Tomlinson Run SP

Phil, Ornoth, & Gary at the start

Phil on Longs Run Rd

Ornoth & Phil receive their finishers' medals!

Immediately after crossing the Ohio River backchannel into Coraopolis, the shorter metric century riders split off from the few of us who were doing the full imperial century. Although the organizers said there were fourteen registered, our initial group numbered just seven – including Phil and I – and that was reduced by one when the sole woman in our group fell off the pace on the first climb.

The first leg was identical to last year’s route, featuring a stupidly hilly 22 KM loop up the ridge into Moon and back down a screaming descent back to Coraopolis before going downriver a bit and climbing right back up and over the ridge to the first rest stop.

We pulled in with 40 KM complete in 2¼ hours. I shed my arm warmers, hit the porta-potty, downed some chips, and the only sport drink they had on hand: Gatorade Zero. Why the hell would you offer a zero-calorie sport drink on a hundred mile bike ride?

After the rest stop came the first of two route changes for this year. Instead of staying on Route 151 / Bocktown Road, the route took Longs Run Road, a back road that paralleled it for about 6 KM. It was heavily wooded and scenic, with huge imposing cliffs looming over the road at one point, but much of it had degraded into loose gravel, so it was slow going on a road bike.

We returned to Bocktown Road briefly before turning onto busy Route 30 and passing the highest point on the route, which was followed by the second, larger change from last year. Last year we left Route 30 and cut across West Virginia to New Cumberland and then up the Ohio River; this year we didn’t quite go that far, instead riding down Gas Valley Road to Tomlinson Run State Park, then riding back up to Route 30.

The transition from Pennsylvania’s terrible roads into West Virginia was just as noticeable as last year, although the roads inside the state park were still pretty bad. We circumnavigated the pond that was the park’s central feature and I got a selfie with Phil (top), whom I’d been riding with all morning. We made our way back up to Route 30 and had just started down to screaming descent into Chester WV when I took a big, black bug right on the bridge of the nose.

We pulled into the “World’s Largest Teapot” rest stop at 10:47am with 82 KM complete. We were making good time and it was still only 22° and windless, making for ideal riding, even if the lack of sun made it less than spectacular visually. Like last year, all the climbing came in the first half of the ride, so it would all be flat and easy on the back half as we made our way upstream along the Ohio River. We had leapfrogged the other four century riders from time to time, and since the metric riders had passed through earlier, there weren’t many other riders behind us. Unfortunately, the rest stop was out of everything but water, which is just about the only thing that could be worse than Gatorade Zero!

The third segment featured the same terrifying crossing high over the Ohio River on the decrepit Newell Toll Bridge as last year. The less said about that the better; if you’re curious, go back and read last year’s ride report. I want to block it out of my memory as quickly as humanly possible. Then 8 KM of lousy Ohio roads were followed by 7 KM of terrible Pennsylvania roads before we pulled into the Subway lunch stop in Midland PA. It was 11:50am and I felt it could begin sprinkling at any minute. I dumped the water out of my bidon and replaced it with cola, downed a small meatball sub, and wistfully deferred getting a Dilly Bar from the Dairy Queen that shared the building.

From there it was up along River Ave in Beaver and back across the river into Monaca. After a two-minute rest we headed down the high-speed Route 51 highway, where Phil did a good portion of the pulling. I was just starting to feel the effort in my knees and neck, but was only just starting to tire. Then back across the river into Ambridge and our final rest stop at Sweetwater Bikes. We’d covered 133 KM in 6½ hours, and it was still a pleasant 25°, although we’d felt the first sprinkles as we were crossing the bridge. A mini cinnamon bite and more pointless Gatorade Zero, and we were back on the road.

The drizzle kept coming off and on as we made our way through Sewickley, across the Ohio once more into Coraopolis, then back across the backchannel to Neville Island and our starting point. But we were far from done. In order to add mileage, the official route did a big extra 9 KM loop around the heavily-industrialized island. But even then, we’d still be short of the official 100-mile mark, so Phil and I planned to keep going until we could claim an official century, even if the rain had picked up and we were both wet and dirty.

And so, with just 8 KM left to go, I found myself rolling along at speed, crossing the fourth or fifth set of train tracks on the island. But this one crossing featured big, wide, deep rail beds. I tried to jump the gaping holes, but you can’t jump three sets of rails, and I came down and hit the edge of one of the cement rail beds hard, causing a slowly-leaking pinch flat.

Fifteen minutes of wet, grimy work later, Phil and I had replaced and re-inflated my rear inner tube, after discovering that my spare tube was defective. Between the rain and my flat, it was a frustrating end to what had otherwise been a good day. We finished the “official” route by going back to the start, where I pulled my floor pump out of the car and topped up my tire while Phil got our finishers’ medals from the organizers.

Then we set off for a second loop around the island to complete our century. The sprinkles had stopped and the roads were drying out. We ticked over 100 miles almost exactly at the place I’d flatted on our previous circuit, then rolled back to the cars to pack up and head home. 164 KM at a 24.4 KM moving average and 1,524 meters of climbing. Although we’d completed the ride in 6:43 moving time, it was 3:15pm, so we’d been gone nearly 8¼ hours of clock time thanks to my flat, the long stops, the climbing, and the rain.

Thanks to the moderate temperatures, I finished feeling very comfortable and strong, which bodes well for next weekend’s remote Pan-Mass Challenge rides. My only physical complaint is a blister I gained on top of my left foot, which was probably due to irritation from my cycling sandals combined with rain and road grit. I’ll have to care for that over the coming week.

I will say that I’m noticeably slower this year, especially while ascending, which is understandably frustrating, but not the end of the world, considering how scarily the year started. There was always going to come a time when I stopped being able to keep up with the pack, and it’s probably good to accept that as I approach 60 years of age.

And with that, the stage is set for next weekend’s “remote” Pan-Mass Challenge. Even at this late date – the ride is in four days – I’m still trying to work out what my ride will look like. This is a very busy week, and I’m nervous about both the weather and the course. Hopefully I’ll be able to relax and be flexible enough to let the ride be a positive experience.

And, of course, if you have not yet supported my ride by making a donation to the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, I’d be delighted if you could contribute something. While the actual ride looms large in my mind right now, the most important thing is advancing cancer research and treatment: a cause I’ve been riding for since 2001. Please give here.

Whether I’d ever ride another century has been in question since the chest pains I had back in January. Since then, I’ve slowly increased the distances I’ve been doing, and on Tuesday completed my first 100-mile ride in eight months.

Ornoth and the Allegheny River and Pittsburgh skyline

Ornoth riding in Highland Park

Ornoth and the Ohio River with Pittsburgh's skyline

R2-Di2 at Mon Wharf with river tug hauling coal barges beneath the Fort Pitt Bridge

Right after my last update in April, I spent eight days in Austin, but was disappointed that I never got to do any cycling down there (full trip report here). I’ve been ramping up since then, including Team Decaf group rides every Tuesday, doing some weekend rides with my buddy Ben, and knocking out a couple 100ks.

But that really didn’t answer my health concerns, nor help me decide whether to commit to upcoming major events or even another remote Pan-Mass Challenge this year. With these questions gaining urgency, it was time to put myself to the test with a long ride.

I’d considered doing my familiar route up to Saxonburg, Butler, and back, but that was made impossible by a huge freight train derailment in Harmar that closed Freeport Road indefinitely. So I fell back on another favorite: along the Monongahela River on quiet Bunola Road down to Mon City. I’d fill out the full 100 miles by starting with a circuit around Pittsburgh and down the Ohio River bike path, and also include a side spur up the Youghiogheny to Boston. And before you ask, “Youghiogheny” is an Indian word that literally translates to “stream that runs the wrong way”.

Knowing it was going to be a hot, sunny day, I applied a layer of sunblock and set out early. It was already a comfortable 19° at 7am. 

The first segment took me north to the Allegheny, then on a relaxed circuit around Pittsburgh, down the Ohio River bike path to the penitentiary and back. It was a very picturesque morning, and there were numerous stops for photos: overlooking the Allegheny in Highland Park, downtown to capture the skyline, watching a ferry take cars across the Ohio, and a river tug pushing coal barges underneath the Fort Pitt Bridge. Setting the theme for the ride, I think I passed every tugboat, train, and bunny rabbit there was to see in all of Western Pennsylvania.

The GAP trail to McKeesport featured two separate sets of senior citizens on bicycles trying to kill me, especially the moron near Sandcastle who was single-mindedly playing with his bike computer while riding in the oncoming lane, oblivious to everything around him. The temperature had climbed to 24° and my sweat-slimed and sunblock-sticky arms and legs were quickly coated with road grime and midges.

Leaving the trail, I followed the Monongahela on the sketchy road segment from McKeesport through Glassport and Elizabeth. Then the surprisingly quiet, undulating, riverside bliss of Bunola Road and across the bridge to Mon City just after 11am. After picking up some Gatorade, Funyuns, and Twizzlers at the local Sheetz, I moseyed over to Mr. Dick’s Aquatorium for my mid-ride break. I watched one river tug pull away and another one dock while munching my lunch.

With 94 K complete, I was about 60% done the ride. I’d rationed my effort and felt pretty good, although my neck and upper back were starting to hurt. Now reaching 28°, it was a classic summery day, and I was drenched in sweat. The promised afternoon headwind was just starting to pick up, but I figured I’d be okay if I watched my effort level, tried not to overheat, and caught up on my hydration. Unwisely, I’d only consumed one 26oz bottle of sport drink over four hours of riding, so I tried to make up for that.

Mounting back up, I backtracked up Bunola Road to McKeesport, then followed my familiar route along the Yough to Boston. Along the way, I was harassed by a vigilante driver in Glassport, somehow avoided a pinch-flat while jumping a curb in McKeesport, nearly got thrown from my bike in front of an oncoming car by a huge pothole on the dirt road approaching Versailles (“vur-SAYLZ”), and fought off leg cramps on the three-block 13% climb up to Walnut Street.

After a brief rest, I left Boston at 1:30pm with 130 KM on the odometer. Historically, I usually start to struggle about 80% of the way through century rides, and this was no exception. My power and speed dropped precipitously, so I stopped at the Kennywood water fountain to refill my bottle and doused myself with water to cool off. With nothing left in the tank, I continued on in purely survival mode.

When I got to Homestead, I stopped at the GetGo gas station for a cola and ice, only to discover their ice machine was broken. The cola – and a text message of encouragement from Inna — kept me going for the remaining distance up to the Hotmetal Bridge and the trailhead, where I poured more water over myself, contemplated the stupidity of living at the summit of a 110-meter climb, and phoned Inna solely to delay the inevitable. At least I was on the doorstep of 161 KM and wouldn’t have to tack on any additional wandering around to complete a full century.

Century complete, I crawled up the 8% grade on Forbes Ave, then passed my house and went down around the “Fruit Loop”, my usual 2-kilometer cooldown. That was probably a mistake, because my legs finally cramped up, forcing me to limp gingerly home. I arrived at 4pm and promptly used our garden hose to completely douse myself in cold water – the first time I’d ever thought to do so, and it was utterly delightful!

Although I finished 167 KM (103 miles) in exactly seven hours of ride time, that had taken nine hours of clock time, which is a pretty lame performance, especially for such a flat course. I climbed 940m, and my normalized power was 141W, or 1.8 W/kg.

My most immediate lesson learned is to do a better job hydrating and fueling. One bottle in the first four hours is not enough, even on a day that isn’t sweltering. I would have done better had I not sabotaged my own performance.

But overall, it was a great ride. It was a beautiful summery day, and the warm sunshine was delightful… until it wasn’t. And it was great getting my first legit century of the year in.

As I mentioned up top, this was an important test for me, to determine if I could plan to take part in my usual major events of the summer. The bottom line there is that yes, I’m still capable of completing a century, but that I still need more training and conditioning if I want to finish in comfort.

Sadly, it’s both too late and probably not advisable for me to undertake this weekend’s 2-day Escape to the Lake MS ride, but I’m giving serious thought to the following weekend’s “Sunday in June” over in Ohio. That ride consists of three loops that all begin and end in a central location, which provides convenient opportunities to abort the ride early if needed. Then there’s nothing on the schedule before the second week in July.

Which leaves the final question about whether I am going to sign up and ride my 17th Pan-Mass Challenge (again, remotely). This proves I’ll be physically capable, but the next question is whether I want to. The fundraising can be onerous, but I should have a couple weeks to myself to focus on it. To be honest and transparent, it’d be an easier decision if this year’s PMC event jersey wasn’t such a bland, stock design. But in the end, so long as physical limitations don’t prevent it, I’ll probably register, because the cause still resonates. I should still get another long ride under my belt before I decide, but watch this space!

This is just a placeholder to direct you to my 2021 Pan-Mass Challenge Ride Report, for the full details of this year's remote "Reimagined" PMC ride, as well as my thoughts and feeling upon completing my 100th ride of 100 miles or more.

As always, my lengthy writeup is supplemented with photos, videos, maps, and GPS logs.

My first Zentury of 2021 is done. First that, then an update on 2021 so far, and prognosis for the summer.

This was a duplicate of my first ever Zentury, in April 2019: doing a Zwift gran fondo event (100k), then extending that with four laps of (essentially) the Volcano Flat route, finishing at 170km. With this being the final ride in the five-episode Winter 2020-2021 fondo series, I figured it was time to go long.

I managed to hang with a couple ad hoc friends for the first 20 miles, but unceremoniously dropped one who didn’t bother switching to a mountain bike for the jungle loop. Then I lost my other friend around Mile 45, when I stopped for a 15-minute stretch and burrito break.

Because this fondo was run in multiple categories and at multiple times over two days, there were only 100 riders in my group, so I was alone on the road much of the time. No one else I knew was on the ride, and the Herd, PMC, Team Kermit, and Western PA Wheelmen Discord audio chats were all empty. That made for a really tedious ride.

Somehow I didn’t realize the obvious: that the first century of the year would be really hard, especially the last 20 miles. I had to stop for another 5-minute rest break, and limped home to the accompaniment of my music collection. It was a really long, hard, solo slog.

I finished 170km with 5,000 feet of climbing in 5h44m, exactly five minutes slower than my 2019 ride, although in 2019 I didn’t take any breaks off the bike. My weighted average power was 180W, which is 16W greater than 2019.

Overall I guess I’m happy with it, although I suffered a lot more than I expected. It’s also my 98th century-plus ride, putting me closer to that magical 100th 100+ ride. And the extra 3,450 XP also gives me a big head start on my way to Zwift Level 48 (more on those below).

Now let me segue to an overview of my 2021 training to date.

Exploring new roads

Ornoth at Mon Wharf

On the indoor side, it’s been a typical Zwifty winter, with a balance of new features, familiar events, and achievement chasing. In addition to the aforementioned five-ride fondo series, annual events included the 8-stage Tour de Zwift and 3-stage Haute Route. New features included the rollout of “robotic” pace partner rides, acquiring the newly-minted Herd club in-game kit, trying my first individual time trial ride, and the rollout of a couple small but strategic connector roads in Zwift’s imaginary Watopia world. The latter prompted a brief chase to try the four new routes that accompanied the new roads, to reassert my “Route Hero” status. But my focus has been working from Level 43 to 47, ever-closer to Level 50, the current maximum.

Outdoor riding has started slowly. On a couple consecutive days in the 60s, I got two rides totaling 70 miles in, but picked up a tiny staple that flatted my front tire overnight. My biggest problem has been that the pandemic has made parts ridiculously scarce, precisely at a time when I need to replace both my rear wheel and chainrings / crankset. For now I can limp along, but soon I’ll need to address the problem, which probably means swapping out both my wheels and entire drivetrain.

In terms of fitness, it’s been a steady, predictable progression from a CTL around 55 at year-end to 95 following yesterday's Zentury. It’s been a little better paced than last year, when my CTL peaked at 98 in January before tailing off!

Looking forward toward spring and summer, Zwift is running the Tour of Watopia throughout April. With double XP for every ride, you know I’m going to be hitting that hard, which will artificially reduce my outdoor riding. That’ll probably continue to elevate my CTL before I dial it back a bit and enjoy some time outdoors in May, while still putting time into my quest for Level 50 inside.

The prognosis for a summer of outdoor rides is mixed. On one hand, Covid vaccinations have been rolling out quickly, and I hope to get mine before too long. Once vaccinated, I’ll have less fear about stopping to refuel during long rides at convenience stores. Plus most major rides have scheduled dates, with surprisingly few exceptions.

On the other hand, most of those events have dialed back their scale, in terms of length, duration, number of participants, and/or amount of rider support. Some are taking a “Here’s a route map; you’re on your own” approach, some two-day rides are now one-days, and century-plus rides have downsized to piddling 100ks. So it really remains to be seen how many outdoor events — especially organized century rides — I’ll be able to accrue. Still, I’ll hopefully be able to do a few solo centuries, as well as simulated ones back on the trainer.

The remaining big questions are what I’ll do for my hundredth century, and whether I’ll do another “reimagined” Pan-Mass Challenge this year. I should spend some time thinking about those while I’m stuck on the trainer next month, chasing that elusive Level 50 jersey...

The Mon Valley Century is the most cursed ride in southwestern Pennsylvania.

The first time I rode it (2016), the organizers abbreviated the route at 80 miles due to a landslide on Bunola Road. Despite everyone missing a waterstop that the organizers decided to move at the last minute, I went and actually rode the missing 20-mile segment of Bunola Road solo just fine to finish with 100 miles.

The ride wasn’t even held the next two years due to additional reconstruction of Bunola Road.

In 2019, the event returned, finally avoiding Bunola Road completely, and tacking the missing mileage onto the start of the ride, which cuts across quiet and scenic Pennsylvania farmland. However, in true cursed fashion, the organizers didn’t provide GPS directions, large sections of the route were on milled or loose gravel roads, and one rest stop consisted of two empty cooler jugs and a canister of Gatorade powder dumped on the side of the road, unattended and with no water source in sight. Truly PedalPGH levels of negligence!

So perhaps it’s good that the tiny ham radio club that organizes the event didn’t even bother to announce a ride this year (or its cancellation). Over my five summers in Pittsburgh, they've hosted just 1.8 rides, a sparse 36% success rate.

Presuming they had cancelled it due to the Covid-19 pandemic, I was left to simulate the mid-August event on my own on the indoor trainer, as I’ve done with all my other annual cycling events. On the plus side, at home I can count on getting something to eat and drink at the rest stops!

My process should now be as familiar to you as it is to me. I consulted the Zenturizer to find the Zwift routes that most closely matched the 2019 MVC ride’s 102 miles and 5,925 feet of climbing. Out of several options, I chose to undertake seven laps of the 15-mile “Greater London 8” course, which includes the short 450-foot climb of Box Hill.

Outdoor temps that ranged from 73-82º made riding much easier. After dancing away from a couple wheelsuckers, I spent the first half of the ride testing my defective Wahoo TICKR heart rate monitor, determining that it will only work if I’m sitting upright in the saddle in the “no-hands” riding position. If I was in any normal riding position — on the bar tops, brake hoods, drops, or even standing — it would give me obviously erroneous readings… if it gave any readings at all. Time to return that piece of slag and go back to Garmin.

The highlight of the second half of the ride was randomly coming across Herd team member Simon Keeling, who was doing the similar-but-not-identical century-plus PRL route. We exchanged encouraging messages then vectored off on our own again.

My legs started cramping on the last of my seven laps. This was made worse when I had to make an extra climb up the back side of Box Hill to make up some climbing I’d need to properly approximate last year’s MVC ride.

But I limped home to complete my tenth Zentury of 2020. I only realized after a friend’s comment that I’d logged no less than 96 Strava achievements on that ride, 16 of which were PRs!

In terms of lessons learned...

Doing long rides on a weekday is a big improvement, because you don’t have to worry about neighbors trying to sleep in. But if you don’t start until 10am, even a fast century is still gonna kill an entire day.

If you know you’re gonna have to do some extra climbing somewhere along the line, don’t leave it for the end of the ride, when you’re tired and cramping.

And if you want to keep some fruit on hand to munch on, either freeze it beforehand or keep it cool with some ice, because warm fruit just isn’t as palatable.

And finally… I’m getting tired of Zwift’s courses. That’s not surprising, considering I’ve ridden 4,860 miles on them over the past ten months. Zwift hasn’t implemented that many virtual roads to begin with, and it doesn’t help that only a few of them are adequate substitutes for real-world events.

And that’s not a good thing now that I’m at peak season, with three more events to mimic over the next 4-6 weeks. Plus another round of barf-o-tronic FTP tests.

But before that, a bit of rest, please?