I learned a few things about myself in 2018.
One of them being, as a cyclist, I really don’t care about racing. In 2016, I helped form a cycling team with some friends and fellow bike nerds (shout out to Team Good Life Shred Squadron) and began training and racing for the first time. I started a Strava account to log all of my rides and began focusing on putting in some quality training miles with the team. In 2016 I logged 2,806 miles over 144 rides, thanks to the support, encouragement, and camaraderie of the Shred Squadron. One member in particular, our team captain Ben, was responsible for pushing me to attempt cycling events and situations I didn’t know I was ready for. His urging toward the ambitious was a needed counterbalance to my somewhat cautious nature. Needless to say, he talked me into entering Gravel Worlds 2016, a grueling 150 mile gravel race outside Lincoln, Nebraska.
I spent a decent amount of time in 2016 and 2017 in cyclocross and mountain bike races. While I enjoyed the act and energy of racing, I began to realize that I merely enjoyed riding my bike with my friends. The competition aspect did little for me.
I rode most of 2018 alone. It turned out to be the year I discovered where I go and what I do when left to my own devices. The idea of “training” for something lost its luster for me after completing a good number of difficult events the previous two years. Tour of Dirt Roads, Gravel Worlds, Jinglecross, Psycowpath MTB Race Series. My interest in riding in circles, large or small, had waned. I began to wonder how far I could go with merely the strength of my own mind and body.
Why a single speed?
In 2016, I had some spare bike components left over after upgrading my cyclocross bike. I decided to buy an inexpensive frame and build up a simple, short trip, mess around spare bike that I didn’t care too much about. The kind you lock up outside your local brewery and don’t worry about someone messing with. A single speed setup was the cheapest and easiest route. I put some flat/clip in hybrid pedals on it to keep my options open. I fell in love with the simplicity and at times, brutality, of only having one gear. There is no wondering if you’re in the right gear, there is only pedaling or not pedaling. It is a primal and zen endeavor.
First, Lincoln.
Living in Omaha, Nebraska, your travel options are somewhat limited. The coolest large cities are Denver, 540 miles to the west, Des Moines, 135 miles to the east, and Kansas City, 200 miles to the south. After riding countless gravel road miles as part of my training for Gravel Worlds 2016, I began to realize how much more I enjoyed riding with a purpose or destination. I was also growing into a stronger rider and could cover much more distance. Around this time, Omaha completed work on a connector bike trail that linked the Field Club trail (which starts a mile from my house) to the larger southwestern Keystone/Papio trail network. This opened up a world of possibilities for me and on those days that I craved a Fairy Nectar IPA from Kros Strain or wanted to just ride around (JRA, as the hip kids say), I would always find myself on this newly expanded network. My mind raced with possibilities. On the weekends, I explored. At work, I geeked out over Google Maps and Strava routes. I started to wonder if I could make it to Lincoln, which is about 60 miles to the southwest of Omaha. The majority of the route was on the MOPAC trail, so the trip basically planned itself. I had completed longer rides a few times before with the Squadron, but never solo. My main riding buddies always had plans, routes, and ideas in mind, so by default, I never guided our rides. I decided on making the Lincoln ride a solo century. 100 miles, on a bike, by myself. On July 16th, 2016, at about 6:00am, I began my trek.