TATR 2017

The Adirondack Trail Ride (TATR) is an annual 585+ mile race through the wilderness of northern New York.  TATR 2017 was the 3^rd year of this solo, self-supported mountain bike race.

• In 2015, 1 of 6 racers finished.
• In 2016, 9 of 14 racers finished.
• In 2017, 7 of 14 racers finished.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There are no rules about where racers stop to sleep. You race as far as you can, sleep, and do it again the next day.

For navigation, racers carry a GPS. For safety, a spot tracker monitors the racers via satellite connection, transmitting each individual’s location to a map that is available online to anyone who is interested.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 1 at the start I activated my spot tracker but I didn’t appear on the online map. Dejavu…..last year my spot tracker failed for the first 3 days.

As Mikey Intrabartola, the race organizer made the final announcements, my GPS screen went blank. My husband, Mike Feldman, quickly changed the batteries out and rebooted it. That did the trick although I had put new batteries in it the previous night. Something about me and electronics….

 

My friend Steve Williams rode with me out of Northville and up to Jackson Summit. Steve took off then to ride with some others on this first day of TATR. I continued up, leap-frogging back and forth with Mike Roe.

Ultimately, Mike took off ahead of me and I didn’t see him again until the Murphy Lake lean-to. From there we rode together until Pumpkin Hollow Road. I chose to go off-course to knock on a door for water and was treated to a delicious baked pumpkin doughnut, still warm from the oven!

Once back on the course, I passed Mike’s campspot and continued on for a couple of miles. There is one tiny square of land in this remote section where cell service is available. I stopped there to learn that my spot tracker was once again, not working. I was not showing up on the online map. I exchanged texts with folks who gave me directions to rectify the problem, and I followed those directions but to no avail. I camped there so I could re-check the tracker issue in the morning.

Day 2 I left “Cell Service Corner” in the Pine Orchard section of the woods at 6 am. My spot tracker was still not online but I had ground to cover. The bridges were slick and I used my boot spikes to negotiate across them. The hills were not as long or as steep as last year. Had I been delirious or was I simply stronger this year? My bike was lighter than last year for sure. Still, it took me hours to get through, and I had already done 2 ½ miles of it the night before.

 

 

I filtered water along the East Branch of the Sacandaga, but I should have done so much earlier. I wasn’t paying attention to hydration the way I should.

 

I pulled into Speculator at 3 pm and got a room at the Cedarhurst motel—a whole day earlier than last year. My friend Dan Remington drove up to troubleshoot my spot tracker but he found everything in order on my end. Eventually I got an email back from Trackleaders saying the issue was on their end—and voila, I was on the map!

The next morning I awoke to a migraine—a dehydration headache. I did a few exercises for it, drank coffee and lots of water and still left Speculator much earlier than last year, by a little more than a day.

 

I had an uneventful ride to Fawn Lake and then up to Perkins Clearing.

 

 

I arrived at the Indian Lake Restaurant & Tavern at dusk and posted my whereabouts online. Magically, my friends Tom and Kristee appeared in the twilight! They had stopped for a beverage across the street, on their return trip from Tom paddling the Adirondack Canoe Classic 90-miler race, when they saw my message. We couldn’t have planned that timing!

 

 

As we had a wonderful dinner and visit, the hostess found me a cabin to rent along the Cedar River. Off I went in the dark to an amazing setting along the river. Linda had cleared a spot in the wood shack for my bike and made sure I had coffee for the morning.

 

 

Day 4 I left my lovely Cedar River cabin and started across the Moose River Plains for Inlet.

 

Part way across a big yellow van pulled up to check on me and provide water. Misha and Nancy were from Pennsylvania and we swapped bike stories before moving on.

 

 

 

 

In Inlet I bought new bike shorts and energy drink mix since I was running low. All restaurants were closed on a Monday night so I bought my turkey subs and started across the dreaded logging roads.

Last year I rode that section at night—until my bike light failed. Then I walked. Once the rapid gunfire started, I trotted, ran when I could and just keep moving and yelling. I didn’t get across that section until 2:30 am last year. This year I managed to get some good foliage shots and made it out at dusk with a fully operational light system!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I rode across the dirt road from Big Moose Station and arrived at the Stillwater Hotel at 9 pm. Joe had locked the place up and told me they were closed. I finally convinced him I had reserved a room that afternoon. Once I got inside, Marion made me a hot dinner and entertained me with her stories, after berating Joe for locking me out. What a great pair!

Last year, I spent night 4 back in Indian Lake. I was ahead of “last year’s me”!

Day 5 I left the Stillwater Hotel at my usual 9-10 am “go” time. I intended to refill water bottles at the Oswegatchie Educational Center, about a quarter mile off-course. Last year when I had been off-course for over 26 hours, I backtracked to this spot and the Center’s Director, Bill, and his crew had been so generous and kind to me. They had helped orient me with my map, had given me a place to rest and some good food to eat. I definitely wanted to stop by to thank them once more.

Earlier that morning, I had found quite a nice knife in the dirt on some torn-up trail near Soft Maple and thought I would give that to Bill. However, I was so dialed into my GPS this year, I never saw my “wrong” turn into the Center. I was part way up Bald Mountain Road before I realized I had missed them. So I stopped at the Oswegatchie River to filter water and I left the knife on the bridge rail so someone would find it.

More atrocious snowmobile trail. Standing water, and mud to mid-shin. It was a long push into Star Lake. At 10 pm I was huddled in the convenience market with a cup of coffee and all my warm gear. I may have thought about quitting that night. A Facebook post from Mike Whiting though told me to hang in there and that’s just what I needed. Eventually I pedaled on to the Inlet Road to find my campspot before tackling the Moore Trail in the morning.

Number 6 was a stellar day. I awoke in my sweet little camp spot tucked into the woods near the Moore Trail. No flat tire that morning like last year!

The trail, however, was in pretty tough shape….like all the single-track and snowmobile trails this year. I was glad I hadn’t done the trail the previous night because I would have missed a few excellent pictures.

 

I did well on this trail until the very end. There’s a super steep pitch up to the dirt road and a couple of misplaced boulders. I must have braced myself near the top trying to get my bike up over the very last yard for at least 20 minutes. Every time I’d try to hoist my bike up, the rear wheel skewer would catch on a boulder and there was no budging it. I was just clearing my panniers between a tree and that boulder, but it wasn’t letting that hub through.

I briefly considered going back down and starting again, but I couldn’t see an alternate outcome. I was willing a car to drive by with someone who might see my predicament and come to help, but there aren’t too many cars going through Wanakena.

Eventually I was able to kick my back tire out an inch, and then do the same with my front tire. Then I was able to gather every bit of strength I had to push up and over the last of that pitch. Once more, I realized how much stronger I am than last year.

Otto’s Abode was open and although the little store doesn’t offer a big selection, I enjoyed some instant oatmeal as I sat talking to Nolan, the owner-resident artist. I then moved out to the sunny village square for my coffee, Fig Newtons, and a Facebook check!

             

 

 

 

 

 

I took off through the Peavine Swamp Trail where I ran into two different sets of hikers on the Cranberry 50. The first one startled me when her sunglasses and hat seemed to appear out of nowhere!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once out and in the parking lot, I was greeted by Curt Cess, a 2016 TATR rider, and Sally Wilder, the daughter of the wonderful couple who generously welcomed me into their home for the night last year. Curt and Sally certainly lifted my spirits and fired me up to continue on into the Tooley Pond Wilderness area.

 

I made good time, yet it was dark when I hit the snowmobile trail in there. That was definitely one of the worst trails on TATR and I didn’t pop out on Rt. 56 until late that night. It was midnight, and yet there was my good friend from Canton, Dan Palmateer, waiting for me with a cup of coffee and the best tuna fish sandwich I’ve ever had! I had planned to continue to Lamphear’s store, the most northern point on TATR, but my external battery pack had died and that was getting in my head. So I found a spot to pitch my tent and called it a night.

At this point, I was 3 ½ days ahead of my 2016 pace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the morning, I had a paved ride north to Lamphear’s store where I was sitting when Michelle DuLieu caught up to me. She was the only other woman registered for the race but started two days later on a time trial format because her bike repairs hadn’t been completed in time for the Grand Depart. At that point, Michelle was 2 days ahead of me and I never saw her again!

 

 

I had hoped to increase my lead over my 2016 time on Day 7, but I camped in the same place as last year in Meacham State Park and the following day I just barely made it to the same North Pole motel in Wilmington.

I left Meacham fresh for the ride around Debar Mountain but started losing steam once off the Thatcherville Road, where the climbs really start.

 

 

 

 

 

I filled my water bottles at the spring near the bridge over the Saranac River but soon realized I’d need more water before the climb up Gillespie Drive to Wilmington. Houses were sparse but I pulled into one yard to ask for water. Dogs and unknown animals from the neighboring compound started an ear splitting cacophony. Their angry owner is the only person in the Adirondacks who has ever refused my water request and turned me away.

Although I was hesitant to stop at the next cabin up the road, a very kind young man not only filled my water bottles but insisted on giving me a large bottle of Gatorade. That made all the difference that day. I ran out of my hydrating/energy powder a few days before and this was the day I started dragging. I was looking forward to my Post Office general delivery box where I would resupply this drink powder that had been making such a difference for me.

After the vicious climb, there’s a few miles of downhill, single-track into Wilmington. I jumped off the trail to let 4 young guys go by. The last one called out to me saying how tough the rocks are. Under my breath I said, “Yeh, try it on a fully loaded bike and when you’re 61 if you want tough!”

The A&W served up the most delicious chicken sandwich I’ve ever had in my life, so I ordered an extra for the next day’s lunch and pedaled across the street to a well-deserved motel room.

I had a rough start when I woke in Wilmington—a sore throat, a cramping toe along with plantar fascia pain, and an arm and hand that were constantly falling asleep. Some yoga, pranayama, myofascial release and MELT work, copious amounts of coffee, and I finally got started. I actually pedaled out of the North Pole Motel 2 hours (AND 4 days) earlier than I had the previous year. The newly added single track to TATR on the way out of Wilmington is sweet and was a terrific start to the day.

 

 

My husband surprised me between 2 good climbs with a cup of coffee and a chair!

                     

 

 

 

 

 

My goal was to camp at the Boreas River but since I hadn’t made any of my daily goals yet, I set the seedy motel in North Hudson as my backup plan. A single-track section enroute to Essex had been removed from this year’s TATR and replaced with some more climbing.

     

 

 

 

 

 

 

Somewhere on one of those hills, Shannon Thomarie pulled up behind me with her bike on her car. What a trip it is when someone follows you on the map, tracks you down and then rides a day with you! At that point I still felt strong and had the Boreas as my ultimate goal. Shannon, having a better grasp of reality, drove south to leave her car near Moriah. She then biked north to meet me and found me in Westport sucking down coffee at dark.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shannon biked up and over Mountain Springs Road with me, for her second time that night. Hell, I remembered it from last year and didn’t want to make that climb once!

Our stretch of pavement soon turned to dirt and I finally realized I would not make Plan A, so I called the North Hudson motel and got their last room. Who knew that place was so busy!  Just making it there was a very long night, as we pulled in at 2 am.

Day 9 was a tough one.  I had only 3 hours sleep the previous night and this day started with a 13-mile brutal climb up the Blue Ridge Highway.  I said goodbye to Shannon at the Boreas River. Thankfully, the crossing was actually easy, and the woods through Lester Flow were much more manageable than last year.

 

         

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then across another creek and I went down in the slippery mud, with the bike coming down on me.

Onward and upward along Cheney Pond Road….but it’s really not a road. It’s rocks and boulders with long stretches of muddy, standing water.

It was well after dark when I finally hit pavement and pedaled on to Olmsteadville. No one was there—not a single light in the little village. The convenient market was dark. I nearly cried but instead called Beds ‘n Heads in North Creek and reserved a spot for the night. I had nothing left in my quads and walked up the slightest of inclines. A shower and food didn’t help much that night but at least I had a bed.

Leaving North Creek for me on Day 10 was incredibly slow.  I had injured my right arm the previous day, when I slipped in the mud and the bike fell on me—on that Cheney Pond section I despise.  Since my left arm and hand had been falling asleep continually, I was a little concerned that both arms were compromised. In addition, my right foot just did not move right due to a plantar fascia issue.

 

So I sent out some texts and found a wonderful massage therapist from Indian Lake who would drive to North Creek to meet me at her raft company base, Square Eddy Expeditions.

 

 

After my massage, it was to Izzy’s for lunch where I ran into Ed, Linc & Jeff, and met Kathy.  On to Sarah’s Cafe for a double macchiato, and only then was I ready to roll out of town at 3 pm – all my aches and pains a dimming memory!  The benefits of Lori’s massage held for 24 hours – exactly the time I needed.

 

 

 

 

 

I hit the woods and started climbing up and around Crane Mountain, starting my regimen of powdered energy drink/calorie supplement in late afternoon instead of my usual mid-morning.  That did the trick and I felt good long into the night.  I started down the trail to Bear Pond after dark.  The guy who lives across from the gate stopped to check on me since Michelle, the rider who went through the previous afternoon, had told him I’d be coming through.  He expressed concern about us being out there on our own, but agreed it was probably safer than being in a big city.  He assured me the bears wouldn’t bother me on my way to Bear Pond – always my biggest concern!

I continued onto the dirt roads and eventually stopped at a remote little cabin around 9 pm because it sounded like a party was in full swing.  There was a sound system on the porch with a ball game blaring and a large screen tv could easily be seen from the road.  The 80+ year-old sweet man who opened the door was startled at first since he’s only accustomed to such visitors on snowmobiles.  He filled my water bottles and threw in an extra 32-ounce bottle of water.  That was the magic–just enough water to get me to the finish line.  I filtered water only twice on the entire race–choosing instead to spend time talking to whoever might provide water.  It was also faster that way!

My goal was to make it at least to Baldwin Springs on East Stony Creek to camp–15 miles from the finish.  It was 1 am when I did, but I was still wide awake and feeling good.  So, I pushed on through the Arrow Trail—a tough 5 miles—much of it hike-a-bike.

Just to make sure I could make it out the other side before needing to camp, I pulled out a GU packet with caffeine that Steve Williams had given me at the starting line, just for such a time.  Typically I do not take my caffeine in any of the energy options–choosing coffee only when I want caffeine–but I figured this might get me through.  I tried….I ate half of it…..tasted like medicine…..wondered if Steve was trying to poison me.  Must have ingested just enough caffeine in any case, since I kept going until 5 am when I reached the “barrier” which often signals the start or end of an Adirondack trail.

The barrier in this case, however, was a natural one, and it was a problem–a stand of enormous trees that had come down, criss-crossing over one another. Eventually I made my way through and around that and found the gate.  I threw my sleeping bag down right by the gate and slept for 2 hours. I wanted to get in on that day—8 am signaled the start of the following day—but there was no way I would make that.

 

 

I still had loads of standing water to get around on the Harrisburg ATV trail and then more hike-a-bike out through the West Stony Creek Trail.

 

By the time I came out of the woods in Hope Falls, I was spent and it must have been about 1pm.  Although it was another 6 miles or so of pavement to the finish line, I had to walk up a couple of hills.  I had nothing left in my legs.

When I turned onto Main Street in Northville and saw my welcoming committee out in full force, I was able to momentarily pick up my speed for the final quarter mile!

In my muddled mind I was a bit down about my time, thinking it was Day 12, but everyone at the finish was so supportive I pushed that to the back of my mind.

Once I had a good nap at home and a little more food, a question on Facebook drew my attention to this year’s time compared to last year’s. It was only then that I was able to sort out the correct days and realize I made it through this year in 11 days—a whole day less than I had thought all along and 5 days less than my time last year. I’ll take that!