Dirty Kanza 2018 – 5 Time Finisher

I am not sure why, but I keep avoiding writing this post this year. I think it is because I finally reached my goal of finishing the DK200 five times. If you want the short version, here it is: I rode, it hurt, I finished. If you want the long version…

Expectations:

Going into the 2018 edition of the Dirty Kanza 200, I was more confident about my chances of finishing than any previous year. I had put in the time on the bike (over 2000 miles so far this year), and my average speed has been gradually increasing. Land Run, La Grind, and Maizie’s all went reasonably well. I was more prepared physically and mentally that I had ever been. I have the perfect equipment, the Salsa Cutthroat, and all of the waterbottle mounts a rider could want.

Cramping is always a huge factor for me. How long can I hold them off? How bad will they get? Just so it doesn’t get too easy, my feet have started bothering me quite a bit this year as well. Anything over 50 miles and they get fairly bad. I actually changed out my pedals to double shots so I did not have to be clipped in the whole ride.

This year, I had a little extra motivation. I was going for my 5th finish. If I could pull it off, I would become part of the 1000 Mile Club. The Gravel Grail would be mine! I know, it’s just a silly glass goblet, but they are damn hard to get. I know how much the first 800 miles hurt and I expected these last 200 to be more of the same.

I have never been accused of being an optimist. I call myself a realist, and the DK200 still scares the hell out of me. Many of my riding buddies were predicting that I might be racing the sun this year, but they drink a lot, so their judgment should be questioned. My more realist take on it was that if I had a really, really good day on the bike, and with a little luck, I might be able to pull it off in 16 hours.

There are many variables outside of our control that can greatly affect the outcome. Weather is the biggest factor. A week out, and it looked like I was in trouble. Possibly 100+ degrees. Are you freaking kidding me? Luckily, as race day approached, the temps kept dropping, but the wind speed was increasing. As much as I hate the wind, I hate high temps even more. Nothing I can do about it, so show up and ride, and let the chips fall where they may.

Goal number 1: Just finish. Play it safe, be conservative, don’t go out too fast, hold the cramps off for as long as possible, just finish. Even if that means dragging your bike across that line at 2:59:59 in the next morning. Just finish

Goal number 2: 16 hours. If I could shave an hour off of my best time, I would be extremely happy. The conditions may not be as good as last year, but I was better prepared this year, and I thought I could pull it off.

Unrealistic goal: Race the sun. Damn it. Too many people keep telling me I can beat the sun. That’s 8:45 pm. 14:45 hours. No way. Do they really think I can do that? Not a chance. Remember, you just have to finish. Be conservative. Be smart. If you go too hard early, you might ruin your day. Who put this damn thought into my head?

Starting line:
Just another typical surprise early morning thunderstorm to start off the day. As I rode downtown, the winds were whipping around like crazy. Lightning in the area led to a 30-minute delay for the start. Just the type of thing to get your nerves really worked up. How much mud will there be now? How many derailleurs will be ripped off? Will one of them be mine? At least it is cool out. I even stole my daughter’s rain jacket as we waited.

Finally, it was time to line up for the start. You sort of self-predict how many hours it will take you to finish and line up accordingly. Do I line up with the 16-hour group? Is racing the sun really an option for me? Line up at 14 hours? I finally decided to line up at right in front of the 18-hour group. Conservative. Smart. Just finish.

Stage 1: Emporia to Madison
We rolled out of town, just me and around 1000 of my friends to take on 206 miles of the best gravel roads in the world. The roads were a little slimy, and quickly, my glasses were covered in mud splatters. The pace was fast, and before I knew it, we were cruising down road 140 and no one turned left on road D like we should have. Actually, the road was blocked off by Jeeps. What was going on? After a little confusion, we realized that we were being rerouted due to road conditions. I was surprised, but I can’t say it hurt my feelings. I was not looking forward to carrying my bike through those low maintenance roads.

We rode. I passed many riders. Many riders passed me. I chatted with some friends. The pace continued to be fast. Riding up road YY (we call it the Towers Climb) went well. Looking at the stats after the race, it was actually my fastest time ever on that segment. I was riding strong and feeling really good. In the past, I had already been passed by many of 100-mile riders already, but I did not see any of them until a few miles later. I made it past the cattle pens and down Camp Creek Road and still feeling strong. I was trying not to go too hard, but if I could keep this up, I would reach my 10 pm goal. And then, that stupid little voice in the back of my head starts talking about racing the sun. Shut up! Just relax and just finish.

I had a chance to ride with a rider from England off and on over the first leg. She had a video crew on the course and they were producing a video about DK. It was great to meet her and I look forward to seeing the final product. I wish I could remember her name, but thanks for the chat and hope to see you back again next year.

As I approached checkpoint 1, it looked like I would make it there in about 3 hours and 15 minutes. Wow, that is fast for me. I told my wife to expect me in around 3:30 or 4 hours. At this rate, I could beat the sun, but I knew there was no way of keeping this pace up for another 150+ miles.

There is one steep little brick road hill just before you reach checkpoint one. Due to the wet and slimy conditions, everyone’s drivetrain sounded awful by the time we reached it. As I was spinning up it, my chain got sucked up and I almost took one too many pedal strokes, which could have been disastrous. Luckily, I was not cranking hard, and I was able to dismount and walk the rest of the hill, saving my chain and derailleur.

I had a little trouble finding my sag crew, somehow Kate and I missed each other, but after a little confusion, I found them. Chug expertly cleaned my drivetrain, and my wife took care of everything else. It was fast and efficient. I was out on stage two in no time, quicker than I ever had before, and feeling strong.

Stage 2: Madison to Eureka
I knew stage two contained the three biggest climbs of the course, but I was determined to ride all of them, unlike in the past. I also knew that I made it to mile 60 last year before my first cramp. My goal this year was to make it to Eureka cramp free. Yes, I know, that was a rather ambitious goal.

Mile 51, failed to reach my goal. Shit! Not even as far as last year. Okay, now I can throw out that stupid idea of racing the sun and get back to the business of just finishing.

Before I took on distance riding, I never really put much faith in visualizing success, and it will happen. Well, now I can tell you it works for me. Every time I felt like shit and wanted to quit, I would picture myself crossing the finish line. It has worked for me all 5 times that I have completed the DK200. Give it a try.

When I reached Texaco Hill, I was determined to not walk it this year. I was able to spin up it and keep the cramps to a minimum. One down, 2 to go. On the back-side of Texaco Hill, there is a very fast and very rough descent. Unfortunately, someone had gone down very hard. He was sitting on the side of the road, hands on face, and blood everywhere. The good news was that there was already an ambulance there and other riders helping out. Hopefully, he heals up quickly. It sucks, but it happens. This is just part of taking on these types of events. There is risk involved, and we all know what we are getting into.

Next up, Teter Hill, the hill that never seems to end. The bottom two-thirds we fought a strong crosswind that slowed us to a crawl. Then, as you near the top, the wind is blocked and it turns into a furnace. The sun was out by now, and it was heating up quickly. I managed to ride Teter Hill as well, so two down, one to go.

Before we reached The Bitch, we turned back north for about a mile, and the north wind smashed us in the face. The good, it was cooler, the bad, pushing that wind was brutal. In our heads, we knew that eventually, we would turn back north for good, and it was going to kick our ass.

The Bitch, not a chance. I was cramping off and on, and I knew that if I tried to push up this hill, I may be able to climb it, but my day may be over then. Legs would probably lock up for good. Be smart, walk, just finish.

We had a great push into Eureka due to the tailwind, but it was really heating up, and I hate the heat, but maybe you already knew that. I may have mentioned it before. Also, my feet were starting to hurt quite a bit. Just another thing to annoy me.

My teammate, Rick Becker was in before me but sitting in a chair relaxing. We discussed how much leg two hurt, and how much leg 3 was going to hurt more while our pit crew got us ready to go out again. I cannot sit down and rest at check-points. If I did, I would not get back on the bike. I was back out on the course in no time.

Stage 3: Eureka to Madison
Stage three, the longest stage, and the stage that can break you. It came very, very close to breaking me this year. The first half contains a lot of rollers and a few tough, punchy climbs. The cramping was getting progressively worse, and the miles were getting longer and longer. My feet were on fire, and my left foot was getting really bad. I stopped more times on leg three than I ever have before. My legs were done, my feet were done, but my mind would not let them quit. Just visualize crossing that finish line, and keep moving forward.

When we finally turned north, the wind was as bad as I thought it would be. Just north of highway 54, I saw Neil Taylor sitting off the side of the road, so I stopped to see how he was doing. As I rolled up, he started talking. I was so tired, so dizzy, that I did not even comprehend what he said. I just stood over my bike, trying to refocus. Finally, I came around and we had a nice chat. He was sitting on the ground, but I did not dare to get off of my bike. I knew I would not make it back on. A couple of other riders came over and joined us and we all shared our pain. Rick Becker rolled up and he looked wasted too. Group suffering counseling session, exactly the motivation I needed. I knew I was riding slow, and the 10 pm goal was gone, but that is when I made up my mind that I would finish. It may be slow, but I would get that 5th finish. I wished everyone good luck, and I was off again. It happens to me every year, you reach that turning point where you make the decision you will finish. No doubts after that point. Just get it done.

Multiple times on the third leg, there were farmers out with a hose or ice cold bottled water. What a lifesaver. I don’t think they understand how incredibly uplifting such a simple thing is. I know all of the riders truly appreciate it, and in many cases, it is the difference between finishing or not finishing. A huge thank you!

The remaining miles into Madison seemed to take forrrreevvvvvveeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrr. Ride a little, stop, eat, drink, visualize finish. Mile after mile after mile…… but I made it.

I was exhausted, my legs and feet were screaming, but I was determined. My pit crew was excellent as usual, and they had me ready in no time. I had plenty of time on the clock, so I could just limp in before the 3 am cutoff. My attitude was surprisingly positive, I gave everyone a high-five, and away I rode. I hoped the miles would go by much faster on this last leg.

Stage 4: Madison to Emporia
I relaxed on the last leg. I had no more goals to meet, except finishing and barring a catastrophic equipment failure, I could get that 5th finish. I even stopped to take a picture of the sunset. I was trying to look around more and appreciate what might be my final DK200 ride.

When I reached road 20, a particularly rough low maintenance road, there was another ambulance and sherif’s car in the middle of the road. There was barely enough room to ride around, but they seemed to have everything under control, so I rolled on past. I took it fairly safe, knowing that a bad crash here could spoil my day.

We also had the Chase the Chaise to look forward too on this leg. As I approached it with another rider he was sharing with me how he had raised $40,000 for charity by riding in the DK200. Suddenly my goal of 5 finished seemed fairly insignificant. I told him to get his photo first, because I had a prop, but felt a little silly now.

Yes, I suck at having photos taken, and my photo from LR100 was proof. I decided to take it to the next level for the DK200, and packed one of my Mexican wrestling masks (yes I have multiple ones). I know they are goofy, but it is a bit of an inside joke that I decided to bring back for my 5th finish. That mask is the second best $10 that I have ever spent in my life. What do I consider the best? Well that is another story. Ask me about it sometime if you really want to know, but don’t say that I did not warn you. You probably don’t want to know.

scottharaldson.com

26 miles to go. At the time, it sounded like too much. But I was actually riding really strong this last stage. Just power through and you will make it. It does not matter how much time it takes.

15 miles to go I had to stop. My feet felt like they had severe frostbite. Getting off of the bike and walking around a little helped. Get back on and suck it up.

Bird Bridge. I am riding with a guy from France, via Florida. Rolling fairly strong, plenty of time. Damn him. “Do you think we can beat midnight?” (actually 12:30 due to the 30-minute delay at the start) “I think we can do it if we really push hard. It will be close.” I told him good luck. I just wanted to roll in at a nice, relaxed pace. But noooo, I had to try and keep up. Next thing I knew, I was pulling for a small group. We turned north again, and every stinking year, I hear a train whistle. Well, at least I can slow down a little. The first time it was a short train and it was gone by the time we reached the tracks. Getting close, but can’t push too hard or legs will lock up. Can I beat 18 hours? Don’t really care.

Only Highland Hill left, so I spun up it casually. I had planned on stopping on campus to put on my mask and tape a number 5 across my chest, but did I have time for that and still beat 18 hours? Yes, 15 minutes to spare. The tape would not stick, but the mask was on and I decided to record my trip down Commercial Street to the finish line. I even considered waiting 15 minutes on campus so I could get a different patch than last year. The huge crowds were long gone, but still some enthusiastic fans to cheer me in. My family, teammates, and friends were there as well. I crossed that finish line for the 5th time. I was sore and tired, my left foot felt like I wanted to cut it off, but I did it. I actually thought I might be more emotional, but I wasn’t. I started the day expecting to be here, and I did it.

Was my ride a success?
Hell yes, it was. 200 miles on gravel is freaking hard. I did not come close to beating the sun, I did not reach my 16-hour goal, it was not even my best time, but I once again dug deeper than I thought I could, and I finished. On Sunday morning, I received my 1000 Mile Club challis. Thank you, Dan Hughes, for taking the time to recognize the efforts of a back/middle of the pack rider like me.

Time Over the Years:2011: DNF (96 miles)
2012: Approximately 19:30
2014: 20:28:30
2016: 20:37:55
2017: 17:05:12
2018: 17:48:57
Not my best time, but not the worst.

Thank you:Obviously, something like this I could have never accomplished without the help of others. I hesitate to name names because I might forget someone. If I forgot your name, I apologize.

Jim Cummins, LeLan Dains, Tim, and Kristi Mohn. (DK Promotions) Thank you for building this event to what it is today. It has helped transform Emporia as a whole, and individuals like me. I would never have thought in 2010 that I would even attempt 200 miles, let alone 100 miles.

Adam Blake at Gravel City. Best bike mechanic you will ever meet. He will go above and beyond to give sound advice and make sure you are prepared for any challenge. I can’t tell you how many times I repeated to myself “ride hard when it is easy and ride easy when it is hard” in my head during this year’s ride.

All of my SAG crews over the years, too many to name. Chug, you knocked it out of the park again this year with the bike maintenance. It is a huge confidence builder when you know that you do not have to worry about equipment. My wife and daughter Kate for taking care of all of my nutrition, hydration, and mental needs at the checkpoints.

My teammates on Team Mulreadys. What a crazy, beer loving, bike riding bunch of misfits! Also to our other sponsors, Gravel City Adventure and Supply Co., Mohn Standard, and Wichita Brewing Co. Thank you for supporting an average guy like me.

Emporia cycling community. Way too many to mention. Wow, how lucky are we to have such a huge support system? Although sometimes we can be competitive, we are also always there to support and encourage each other.

Finally, my family. My wife Lisa, and daughters Jessica and Katlynn. Although Jessica has been away from home for years now, all of this started when she was just a baby. I have spent countless hours away from home on my bike, leaving my wife and kids at home. Thank you for all of your support and understanding.

What will I do next year at DK?Ask me at the end of the 200 miles and I would tell you “thank goodness that is over and I never have to do that again.”

Ask me a few days later, when the pain starts to go away, I am not really sure. Just need to remember how much it hurt.

Now that it has been almost 3 weeks, and I still don’t have an answer. I know that I can complete the 200. Do I really need to do it again? If I keep up training at my current pace, perhaps I could improve on my time. If I ever decided to eat healthy, perhaps racing the sun would be in the books, but don’t hold your breath on that one.

I could ride the 100. 100 miles are still really hard, and I could get back in time to enjoy the festivities. That would be the smart thing to do, but unfortunately, I don’t always do the smart thing.

350? HA! Not a chance. No way. Not even thinking about this one. Really, I am serious. Why don’t you believe me?

However, I do own a fat bike now. Perhaps the 100 on my fat bike. That could be a challenge. Oh no, don’t even think it, 200 on the fat bike? No, that’s stupid. I don’t do stupid…most of the time. I guess I have a few months to decide, but I know this, I will be back for something, just not sure what yet.

All I know right now is that it is time to go fly fishing.

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