Will Boulware (2)

After a lovely ride in Tellico this summer, I basically forgot how to climb a hill while I was focused on Gravel Worlds in Nebraska in August. After that was over and I saw how much fun Mike and Buck seemed to be having on these ITT’s, I decided it was time to get off my duff and try to string together 130 miles in Reliance. Day-of, I got myself up at 4:00, downed a hefty dose of caffeine and oatmeal, and was out the door shortly after 5:00. Quick stop at Hardees in Ooltewah and up the road we went.

I got to Mona’s, puttered around for way too long re-checking things that didn’t need to be checked, and finally rode off from Hall’s store around 6:30. My bike for the day was my Salsa Fargo set up with 2.25 Rekon/2.2 Rekon race tires, a 30/11-42 GRX drivetrain, and a frame bag full of enough stuff that I’ve been accused of packing for a trip to Jerusalem. If there’s a perfect bike for this area, this is it. Just ask me. I’ll tell you all about it.

I was apparently out and about before the neighborhood dogs started their day. I didn’t even get a bark out of anything as I passed by the string of houses leading to Kimsey mountain. About half a mile into the gravel, I realized it was bear season when I got passed by 4 trucks with boxes full of barking hound dogs in the back. There would be no bears on the road today!

The Kimsey climb was the usual lengthy affair I’ve come to expect, but it went by uneventfully. I turned left onto the Smith mountain descent and promptly dumped half my snacks out of my top tube bag when it flew open on a bumpy section. This, of course, happened right in front of an F150 full of barking dogs that had to stop while I picked up my yard sale. The remainder of the road down was wet and covered in leaves, so I lost some time there due to my cowardly descending pace, but I made it down to the bottom in a reasonable amount of time.

Lost creek was a wonderfully smooth respite after the up-and-down I’d just done. The construction crews are never there on weekends, so the only people I saw were bear hunters. I did wind up with a spider in my mouth at one point when I rode through its web on the descent down to the campground. I spit it out pretty quickly, so I was only moderately traumatized by the event. The spider may feel differently.

I stopped at Webb’s and bought a honey bun, 2 bags of cheese-its, and an armful of Gatorade bottles. I got some peanut butter cookies too, but they turned out to be quite dry. First world problems… I had been dreading the creek crossing all morning, as I don’t particularly care for being wet, but thankfully it had gone down a LOT from the pictures I saw the weekend before. I only got about knee deep at the lowest point. The old roadbed after the creek was pretty soggy, but after a mud bog or two, I popped out on spring creek road and started pedaling towards highway 30 again.

I usually fail to eat enough and bonk catastrophically around hour 5 of any given ride, but today was going pretty well. On the climb up Star Mountain, I started to feel the wheels coming off the wagon, so I made myself stop and put a foot down while I ate one of the aforementioned dry cookies, a gel, and half a bottle of LMNT. The rest of the climb felt pretty bad, but I was a lot better by the time I started the descent. I stopped twice on the way down to stuff more food in my face, and by the time I got to the paved road, I was feeling ok.

Ivy was uneventful, and I stopped at the Coker Creek welcome center to restock. I headed out of there looking forward to the Shuler Creek descent that followed. I think it has to be everyone’s favorite part of this route. It’s gorgeous, and it’s enough of a false flat that you feel like you’ve still got some legs left. The subsequent climb up to buck bald wasn’t bad either. It’s fairly gradual and I wasn’t letting myself get in a hurry. I took the requisite photo, ate something else, and rolled back down the hill toward Fingerboard road. Fingerboard doesn’t look like much on an elevation profile, but it’s maddening when you’re tired and trying to get to the next food stop for an ice cream cone before they close.

Speaking of… I had consulted The Google about what time Reliance Fly and Tackle closed on Saturdays. I was told 9:00. The Google lied. I rolled into the parking lot at 6:50 and they were very, very closed. I had one full bottle left, so I was getting ready to roll on when out of nowhere, a friendly campground attendant offered me some hose water from one of the campsites. I filled all 4 of my bottles (I’m sure somebody out there will have something to say about my bottle count – you know who you are) and thanked the nice gentleman for his kindness. I had plenty of calories left in the bag to make it through anyway. I didn’t really need that ice cream cone…

Powerhouse has never seemed like much of a climb to me when you hit it fresh out of the boat ramp parking lot. When you attempt it at hour 13 as the light begins to fade from the sky, it’s a completely different experience. I turned my handlebar light on and slowly made my way up the hill. After a brief enough slog, the road finally pointed downhill again and I rolled on towards McFarland and Ditney.

I stopped at the piped spring to refill my one empty bottle, because why wouldn’t I carry all the extra weight I could find when heading up the worst climb of the day? Thankfully, McFarland has seen a recent refresh. They’ve dumped some sort of gravel dust on it that’s filled in a lot of the ruts and uneven areas, and the rain over the previous week had settled that stuff into a pretty smooth surface. It’s still steep, but it’s smooth.

I don’t think the Ditney section has seen 10 minutes of road work since Harambe was alive. It’s covered in loose rocks and embedded shale and the ruts are big enough to keep all but the bravest Toyotas far, far away. In the daylight, it’s steep enough that it presents a struggle for those of us without Tour de France legs. In the dark, it really brings out the best of my vocabulary, and on this evening, it threatened to wear out the soles of my shoes. I walked a LOT, but I was here to finish the loop, not fall in a hole and require a rescue effort. Good life choices sometimes result in bad lap times.

I finally made it up to the Kimsey/Smith mountain junction, ate the last of my Cheez-its, and started down the hill. I turned my helmet light on to add to my bar light, and I felt like I had a pretty good view of what was in front of me, but I think I hit every rock out there on the way down. I cruised back through the neighborhood area and once again didn’t see a single dog. They must work banker’s hours on Saturdays. This was a crazy-long difficult day, but man, it felt great to roll back to Hall’s store and stop the clock.

I’ve done all 3 of these ITT routes now, and this is far and away the most difficult. I managed to keep my head together better than I usually do, and I shoveled in enough food and water to keep my energy levels pretty high for the day, all things considered. This is a beautiful, incredible route and a massive challenge. If you haven’t done it yet, put it on your list. Well worth all the pain and suffering, even if you don’t get that ice cream cone you wanted at mile 100.

Big round of applause for Kim and Shannon and all they do to keep this gravel community going strong! Thank you guys so much! Now I just have to find a weekend to go do another Death March….