TnGa StaGe One, The GrAvEL GrInD to MiLL CReeK RoaD

This had to have been the coldest September morning I had awoke too in a long time. My alarm had gone off at 3am, and the snooze button had been my friend. It was time to get my finely tuned kit put together for the adventure that was about to begin.

Out the corner of my eye I see a bouncing LED light, typical of what you would see on a helmet, and as the Light approached I recognized it to be no other than my good friend Rob Roberts.

I immediately noticed Rob was fully dressed and ready to go.

Panicked I said "what time is it"??

"4am".
**Note to reader, were supposed to leave at 430am**
I immediately go into panic mode.

I pack up my gear quick as I can, throw all my stuff in a bag, grab my other gear, run up the mountain, do what I must in the bathroom and get there in time to eat, before we loaded up and ROLLED OUT.

In the back of the Limo I could hear the chatter of the riders as they discussed various subjects.

To my left, driving the stretch Limo and listening to Kick ass tunes was my New Best Friend Rick MOON.

The chaotic morning had finally calmed for me. Whilst feeling relaxed, I still felt anxious about what was yet to come.

At the start, I immediately started strapping the bags and getting all my final last bits together. I had received a bunch of food from Mulberry and I didn't want to throw it away. So at the last minute I strapped it onto my bike in a HoboTic fashion.

Looked not so good, but it was food that I may need.

David said some quick words regarding the route and the event, and then we were off.

You would of thought that it was a 35 mile race instead of a 350 mile race, as Stephen Huddle was off the front tucked into his Aero bars in a move that reminisced something out of the Tour de France.

Seemingly the group ignored the attack. I looked around as everyone just kind of stayed bunch up as we started to go through some North Georgia Rollers.

Then on a downhill I decide to gun it, Open up the legs, and at the same time, test my set up to see if I could chase down Stephen.

Immediately I am gone, Rob follows, tells me not to get caught up in the pace..

And after we all pass Stephen, cause he stopped for a moment, we hit Gravel and the race really picks up.

Immediately there is a split in the Front as Matt Lee, Eddie Odea, Rob Roberts and a few others start pulling away.

A split had already formed in our tight little group and off the back but catching up was Mark Donagehy.

Matt Fusco, Brad Kee and myself were in the chase group.

We hit some Rollers and flow sections of double track that I was really able to just get ahead of my little group.

But once we hit a climb they would slowly creep past me and we would rinse and repeat.

I have no idea how much time had passed but this craziness and chaotic feeling was persistent.

Eventually, I saw Cricket creep up and she past by as Matt and Brad all left me on a longish Gravel Climb.

As I crested the climb, from an even steeper Road above me, descend Brad, Matt and Cricket, after apparently taking in some extra elevation meters.

Cricket stopped to wait for a friend and we continued on.

The rhythm of the race at this time persisted in that same little dance, of downhill small gap, uphill small gap, till after a turn on a climb, they all disappeared, Matt, Brad and Mark were gone. I picked up the pace, then climbed to a road going left, thinking I was following the Green line on my Etrex Well, only to end up at the threat of a Jack Russell two pronged Terrier attack at the front of someones yard.

My first Navigational error had occurred and it cost me the spot I had worked pretty hard to get in the chase group next to Matt and Brad.

No matter, I was really liking the section I was on. Overgrown double track climbing, I stopped to take a mental break, and tighten up my Hobo gear that had been starting to Lop to the right.

I kept going, seeing Brad Kee's Boot Tracks in the Dirt. Hoping If I did enough Modest work, maybe I could see some of them again. At least See Mark.

I eventually cleared the first Forest Section, feeling proud and defiant. Feeling like I was not only riding in this thing, but I was racing it as well, which was kind of the point. This whole thing is kind of like the Dare of Dares, the Feats of Feats. Pack your shit, go out and ride the ultimate Dirty Enduro and let's see in what order we get to the finish line. I love how Wild this type of event is. I love how Poetic the spirit of the event is. We go out and do it for the ride of it all and nothing more.

On the road, my Freddies were my friend as I tucked deep and kept going, searching for the way point that told me where there was a store.

Interesting, no way points could be found, and I realized that after spending Hours looking on Google Earth, making way points on the route to help me with reloads and mileage goals, I had forgotten to hit the load way points button when I loaded the route on my GPS. Costly mistake, but it was too late to make tears over.

I take on some liquid calories, and load up on snacks and roll out.

I learned something critical. During my work day on the bike, snacking is the only thing I should do and save the big meal for before bed. Now I didn't learn this day one, but I did this day one without even knowing it.

Onward I rolled. I thought I had about 30 or so miles to Helen, and I ended up being wrong. It was more like 60, but at the time I was rolling on an "I got 30 miles left for the day pace."

Up I went, down I went, this went on for hours.

Big Rocks little rocks all over the roads.

Too big to climb steady, too big to corner hard.

These Little Rocks made every type of riding a chore.

After climbing my umpteenth mountain, I stopped and eyeballed a sweet little pocket of warm sunshine that was shining on the clay, perfect size for my frame to rest in.

I laid there resting, and easily drifted into dreams, waking 30 minutes later, feeling like a new man.

I pulled a snickers out the frame bag and ate, tasting the chocolate and enjoying the flavor. As I sat up in a Yoga like pose to stretch my back and arms, I felt the familar Sting on my left Calf muscle, but wanted to dismiss it as a rock or a poke from a stinging Nettle Leaf.

I instinctively smacked only to find in my Sweaty palm, a dead Bee.

I have Not been stung my a Bee in 15 years or more and this past 8 weeks I have been stung 3 times. The first time was at work and the effects sent me panicked to the emergency room thinking for sure that I needed medical assistance to stop the Histamine reaction that was racking my body. But alas, that day when I left the hospital, the doctor told me, if this happens again, "just take some benadryl."

AND it did happen again, at work, and I DID what he said, and It DID Work.

But At this point I could not believe this was happening during the biggest challenge of my life.

WTF, for real?

Any how, I took the benadryl and got rolling. After a good little downhill I was pushing uphill when my heart started pounding in my chest making the veins in my skull pulsate.

Then the itching began, all over my back and buttocks on my arms neck and scalp.

I continued pushing, till this histamine reaction got the best of me and I forced myself to sit like a huge pile of allergic bee poison on the trail, thinking one thing and one thing only:
This is gonna cost me some time, will someone finally catch me now. I would love to see another face, someone to talk too and tell them how awful I was feeling at the moment.

But through the ordeal, no one came.

I forced myself to stand. Forced myself to push the bike uphill attempting to ignore the itch, but sometimes I would just give in.

AND I got back on the bike and kept the pedals turning, grinding the gravel away, while my body complained of Bee venom.

And eventually, as the night got dark and cold, I put more clothes on, and continued my forward movement. The torrential physical downpour that my body was experiencing subsided and dried up. The Deluge of itch was gone.

And I felt fine. Had to put on the lights. Had to put on my wool shirt. Had to keep going forward.

I got on some pavement, and I was looking around at the houses, trying to figure out how I had not reached Helen Yet. My math was apparently off.

I spotted a trailer home that looked dilapidated and kept going on my way. Got to an intersection, asked my GPS how far Helen was, and after riding all day long, since 8 something A.M., it was 1030 at night and I still had 25 plus miles to go. I was not ready.

I went back to check out the trailer since I knew that this evening would be the coldest of the three evenings I didn't want to hang in my hammock and not be able to sleep.

The back had an opening in what would of been the Trailer homes hallway, and I parked the bike, climbed in and jumped in my sleeping bag wearing all my clothes. I knew this would dry me by the morning.

Although my body slept, one lEar was always alert. I could hear the Nails from the Mice running underneath where I slept. Sometimes I would have to roll from one side to the other, but I slept good.

Part 2 tomorrow.

Take care,

Laters,

The NaKeD InDiaN