Still can’t talk Chris into doing this later in the year, but at least the weather was lining up.

Five years in a row now. I’ve started all of them, finished half.

I’m not going to go into all the details, past posts cover a lot of that 2021, 2022, 2023, and 2024. I’m not sure why I keep doing this to myself, but after bailing last year I sort of had a score to settle. Even though I’d settled it before?

Six starters this year: Chris, Matt, Andy, Justin, Travis, Clint. Four on single speeds, two with gears. Three finishers: Matt (19:02), Andy (1:42 AM), Chris (2:00 AM).

Turkey Pen – Squirrel

Started strong. Beautiful sunrise as we rolled over Black with most of the crew. Dropped onto Turkeypen, and the first blowdown was less than 100 yards in. That set the tone—trail covered in debris, untouched, full-on leaf surfing. My worn-out GeoClaws weren’t up for it.

Hit the first missing bridge, shoes off, waded through. Yep, it was cold. Dry wool socks? Amazing.

Mullinax was in great shape (too bad nobody rides it without the bridge). Squirrel was a mix—some stuff cleared, a lot of blowdowns still there. A few got interesting. More creek crossings at Wolf Ford. Trail conditions slowed us down, but the pace still felt solid.

At some point, Justin and I rode away from the others heading toward the Cache. As soon as we hit open gravel, he took off. Rolled in around 10:20 AM, about 5:05 for the first loop—pretty solid considering all the hike-a-bike around trees and detours.

Parkway – North Mills – Laurel – Pilot

Weather was perfect. Tailwind? Could see Justin here and there, but by the time we dropped into Big Creek, he caught me. I hesitated on the first technical move—forgot how to ride a bike for a minute—and he was gone.

Big Creek was a mess. I crashed in the leaves a couple of times, settled into “just keep moving” mode. Down in the bottom, I found Jorts, and we worked our way through the jungle of downed trees. A whole lot of over, under, around. We managed to keep our feet mostly dry thanks to some creative rock-hopping—being tall helps. Eventually, the trail turned into the creek, or the creek turned into the trail. Either way, wet feet.

Ran into Neko Mulally at North Mills. He asked if I was doing “that 99-mile ride.” How did he know? Felt pretty famous for a second.

Up Fletcher/Spencer. Surprisingly, not too much traffic. But after North Mills, I started feeling it. The climb to Yellow Gap was slow. Laurel? Soul-sucking. Finally dropped down Pilot. Ran into Jason Vance, who was doing the route backwards…because why not? Slowed for a quick chat, then pushed on.

Back at the Cache, Justin was there, grabbing some food before the final stretch.

Farlow and Final Push

Quick stop—eat, refill bottles, add layers. Justin rolled out first, planning to stop at his other cache on 477 to swap socks. A few minutes later, I followed. Never saw him there, though. Our paces were just different now.

Climbing 5003, I kept expecting him to come rolling by, but he never did, I’d find out later he bailed with light issues. Deep Gap, into the steeper, chunkier stuff. A lot of hike-a-bike at this point—rocks just the right size to kill momentum. Over Farlow at 7:50 PM. Cold.

Farlow…man. Half of it barely qualifies as a bike trail anymore, especially after 15 hours on the move, cold, and wrecked. Off the bike a lot. But once at the bottom, the “hard stuff” was done.

Davidson River, 475B, Club, Black—these were familiar. At this point, any uphill singletrack was getting walked. Mini-cache at 477/276: Coke slam and Oreos. The hike up Club was actually nice.

By now, the wind was whipping—blowing leaves, dirt, and everything else in my face. Helmet light dimming. I had a spare battery but didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to take my gloves off. Eventually, I had to. Picked a low point before another climb so I could warm up again.

Black Mountain. The Rhodo Tunnel = climbing done. Finally. Just needed to get to the bottom in one piece. Took it easy, got a little playful. It was fun. About halfway down, realized I couldn’t feel my fingers. Braking was sloppy, but almost there.

Then, the van. Hung the bike, cranked the heater, sat for a bit, hoping the others were close. After a few minutes, time to head home. Finished at 12:15 AM—19 hours from start to finish. Almost exactly the same time as five years ago, but this time? Way tougher. So many trees down, the cold, the wind.

Why….

Felt good to get it done. I think. It’s tough.

Honestly, the first 2/3 is a big day. The last 1/3? Kinda dumb. But sometimes, the dumb parts are what I’m after. So much time alone in your head. And I’m oddly comfortable there.

At some point during the day, I questioned what I was doing—flailing around in the woods, struggling, thinking I could be home with the kids and Katie. No real reason to be out here. But then, later that night, that feeling of pushing through.

I don’t know.

Chris and Andy finished a little while later. Six starters, three complete, all fun…

It’s a tough day. I think I might post more on the why later.